Even a Cactus has Flowers

I stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting my wedding outfit. The shirt was long, almost tunic-like, and made of the finest cotton. It was purple, with embroidery along the sleeves and hem, little cactus flowers in gold thread. The trousers were made from donated black dragon hide: one of our allies had shed recently and had no use for his old skin. My boots were of the finest leather, dyed black to match the trousers. On my head was my crown of cactus flowers, with the wedding veil laced through them. My name is Atryia, the daughter of the Alpha King, and today I am taking my Fated mate as my Luna. Some people whisper that it was unnatural for a woman to take the throne, that it had always been a King. My father had rejected that tradition when I was born, along with the foolish notion that a woman must wear skirts. Unfortunately, he was not there to officiate my wedding, having fallen in battle shortly before my Fated had shown up at court. I had wanted to wait for marriage, having only known Tobias for three months, but the elder council insisted that I needed to have a mate to rule. After all, if something happened to me like it had to my father, and I had no heir, what would become of the twelve packs? They had made eerie sense, especially to one having just turned an adult. Thus, the wedding had been planned, almost rushed once the engagement had been announced to the kingdom. All of my subjects seemed relieved that the fate of the royal line would be secure for another generation, so I went with it, the more fool I was. Sighing, I left the royal dressing room, heading for the court. My boots clicked against the stone floor, my stride one of pure confidence; I had been raised for this walk, to assume my place on the throne someday. As I reached the double doors of the palace court, I took a deep breath and reached for the handles. Only for my wrist to be grabbed by large, rough hands. I turned, lashing out with my other hand, only for that one to be grabbed by another set of hands. I opened my mouth to scream: this close to the waiting packs, they would surely hear and come running. The scream died on my lips, though, as a figure stepped in front of me, holding a crossbow armed with a silver bolt aimed straight at my chest. It was the lead elder of the council, the one they called Jett. He had a malicious grin on his face, his eyes cold obsidian. He said in a voice barely above a whisper, "Now, now, Atryia. We wouldn't want the kingdom to see how weak you really are. Especially during Tobias' wedding...see, we needed the perfect puppet to displace the royal line...and with a little bit of magic and some make-up, a servant girl to provide the perfect decoy for that puppet to marry." I fought against the hands that held me, glaring hatefully at Jett. He just let out a low chuckle, "You know, the hardest part about this plan was getting your father out of the picture. He took ten of our best wolves before he fell, but without him our plan has gone off without a hitch. Ah, but I'm wasting time. I'm supposed to officiate the wedding and I needed to be in there three minutes ago. Guards, take the princess to the boundaries and toss her out. Make sure no one recognizes her." They dragged me away, kicking and flailing, trying to get my wolf to surface. Trying to find my voice and scream my denials, but it was as if Jett had punched me in the stomach with the information he gave. That my father, my dear, loving father, had been murdered intentionally. That my Fated was a fake, and being put on the throne with a fake copy of myself. I found it impossible to focus, and was caught off guard when one of the ones dragging me swung his fist at my skull. The next thing I felt was pain and darkness that seemed to last forever. * I awoke to the sound of horses and carriage wheels traveling through unpaved dirt, rocks and grass. The scent of the area wasn't one I recognized, and with a sinking stomach I realized we were at the very edge of the kingdom's extended territory. How long had I been out for? It was a week's hard ride from the capital to the borders...yet my head didn't have that aching throb that would've come from that severe a concussion. I wondered if they had drugged me to keep me quiet. It was as likely an answer as any, but one I couldn't prove at this point in time. I was still lost in thought when the carriage came to an abrupt halt, sending me nearly flying into the other side. Trying to get my balance back, I looked up sharply as the door opened, revealing a tall man with a scar down his cheek. This was not one of the traitorous guards that had abducted me. He looked much tougher than that, though there was a gentleness to his face that surprised me. Then he did something that stunned me further: he held his hand out politely, bowing a bit. "Your Highness, please allow me. Ah, dinnae think I'm a traitor, ma'am. I am still very loyal to your family, but the elder council has me by the balls and I have no choice." I blinked at his highland accent, before shaking my head and taking his hand. The highlanders had been the first pack to join the kingdom's unity so long ago, and as he had said, had always been loyal. Besides, what choice did I have in the matter? I was completely lost, and my wolf was refusing to come to the surface for one reason or another. I was then led from the carriage to a distinct break in the forest. It wasn't gradual, the way a meadow is; there was just suddenly no trees in front of us. It stretched past the horizon, a flat, dry land. Only the occasional patch of grass broke up the monotony. He sighed, looking out at the landscape before pulling a pathetically small bag and handing it to me. He said, "Rations, enough for two days, and flint and steel in case you manage to find things to make a fire out there. This...is the wasteland, Your Highness. Good luck to ye...have no clue what is going to happen from here on out, but please try to survive." I nodded briefly, taking the bag and heading out to the treeless expanse. I was still dressed in my wedding clothes, and my boots sink into the packed dirt only a little. Sighing, I hitched the bag under my arm and started walking forward. I was alive, and for the moment, that's all that mattered. My return and my revenge could come at a later date, when I was more prepared.