The Bastard’s Birthright

Cuilwen’s body began to vibrate, and she had to use every muscle in her body to prevent herself from shifting. She hated being out of control, especially of her own body. While most wolves didn’t learn to control their shifts until well into puberty, Cuilwen had made sure she could control it by age six. She felt that only a foolish mutt would allow itself to be overwhelmed by emotion to the point of accessing its most feral state. They were people, for Goddess’ sake. More than capable of self-control. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, bringing herself out of a panic attack. She focused on the cold air whistling through her nose. In, and out. In, and out. She focused her mind on counting her tattoos: a virgo constellation on the inside of her left wrist, a triple moon over her heart, the outline of her. mother’s wolf silhouette on her left bicep. Her shoulders dropped as she started to calm down. But this letter has changed everything. This letter had made her realize that her pack’s “dirty little secret” hadn’t been so secret after all. That 20 years of hiding and shame had been all for naught. The Alpha king knew exactly who she was, and exactly who she had been sired from. Which meant so did a lot of other people. She looked back down at the royal parchment. ???? ?????? ?? ???????? ????????? ?? ???????, ???? 245 ???? ?????, ?? ??? ????????? ?? ??? ????? ????. ??? ??? ????????? ??????? ?? ???? ????'? ?????? ???????? ?????. ?? ???? ?? ???? ????????, ?? ???? ???? ?? ????? ?? ??? ???? ???? ????? ??? ?????. ??????? ???-??????, ?????? ???? ???? ????? ?????? ???????, ???? ?????? ????? ????, ???? ?? ?? ??? ???? ?? ???? ??? ????? ????. ?? ????????? ??? ??? ?? ???? ???? ???? ???? ??? ???????. ??????, ????? ???? ????? ????? ???? ???????? ????? ?????? ??????? ???????? ???? ????? She knew as soon as she’d seen the heavy, sealed parchment envelope, that this was from the Alpha King. The gold leaf seal had his crest on it, and it smelled like a lush, wooded forest in a rainy beach town. The most envied territory on the entire planet. The Royal Pack lands. Her hands were shaking, and her eyes slid in and out of focus as she read it again and again. She looked up at her half-sister. “There is no way that was sent to me on purpose.” Cuilwen finally managed to choke out. “She-wolves only get Royal letters when they turn 200 full moons, and I’ve never heard of a letter being received past 220. And they’re only ever sent to Alpha’s daughters!” Rowena raised an eyebrow as she turned her head towards Cuilwen. Her unbelievably shiny red hair caught the light as it cascaded down her shoulder, the braids, beads, and fur artistically styled into her hair made her seem so wild, and yet so regal. If anyone deserved this summons, it was her. Cuilwen sighed, running a hand through her own golden hair. “Rowena, you know I don’t count. Since when has my father’s blood ever counted?” Rowena gestured to the room they sat in—a high-ceilinged, fully furnished and squeaky clean living room. “I would say around the time he put you and your mother up in one of the nicest houses in the territory.” She quipped. Cuilwen stood up and began to pace around on her highly polished oak floors. “I’m a bastard. He has to take care of me to some degree, or else people would talk.” “But did he have to give you a house nicer than mine, and a maid and a cook to boot?” She didn’t say it bitterly. She had never been bitter. Just, matter-of-factly. “At least you have birthrights, and you get to stay in the packhouse.” She sat down in the middle of the floor, her head down. Rowena snorted, “I’d much rather have this setup. As the only girl, the packhouse stinks. Especially since all of our brothers have found their mates so our wing always smells like sex.” She curled her lip in disgust while Cuilwen laughed dryly. “They’re your brothers, Rowena. Not ours.” Rowena’s mouth turned down into a deep frown and she slid into the floor to sit next to Cuilwen. “I guess the grass is always greener on the other side, huh?” Cuilwen didn’t say anything. She just let her mind wander to the day her mother had come clean about who her father was, and why Cuilwen could never know him. He was the Alpha of their pack. Married to his Luna, bound to her by law and mating ritual. It was by fluke that they had ever crossed paths. She had been running through the lilac fields in the mountains, far from our pack territory, while he was there building a small summer home for himself and his Luna. She said she didn’t know it at the time, but she was drawn straight to him, and before she had even approached, he had stopped what he was doing and had his arms out, ready to accept her. She shifted mid-leap and jumped into his arms. They only bred the one time…well, the one week. But it was enough. They were wolfmates. Chosen by the Moon, and destined to create the strongest, most beautiful pups. She described herself as slender and petite, with perfectly smooth peach skin and brilliant yellow-gold hair but Cuilwen had only ever known her with dull, pale hair and a sallow complexion. Losing your mate—be it by death or other means—can kill a wolf. But somehow, she had survived not only to carry Cuilwen, but to raise her as well. That is, until Cuilwen was around 100 months. She passed away in her own bed with Cuilwen weeping by her side, the name “Rowan” on her lips as she took her last breath. Cuilwen remembered hearing a strained, broken howl in the distance, and just like every wolf in the pack, she howled in response. The Alpha’s call can never go unanswered, and his mourning was felt by all. The morning after her mother died, Rowena had entered her life. She was strikingly beautiful, with flaming red hair down to her waist and brilliant golden eyes. Her features were foxlike and feminine, and she instantly made Cuilwen feel awkward and small. She explained who she was—her older sister through their father—and swore to raise Cuilwen from this day onward. She found out later it had been an Alpha Command she couldn’t have declined if she wanted to, but they had grown to truly love each other as sisters. “Why don’t you go in my place?” Cuilwen asked Rowena as she began to run her fingers through the blonde’s hair comfortingly. “Because I am my father’s eldest, meant to be mated by my 360th full moon regardless in order to take over the pack. They don’t waste invitations on firstborns. They would rather save the headache of splitting territories if I happen to mate with another Alpha.” Cuilwen nodded, having forgotten that unfortunate detail of Rowena’s destiny. Rowena leaned down and nuzzled Cuilwen’s forehead with her nose—a common gesture from mother to pup—and Cuilwen was able to clear her mind and relax for a moment. Only for a moment. Rowena left after a little while, trying to ease Cuilwen’s nerves to no avail. She promised to bring some dresses to the house in the next few days after Cuilwen had gone pale finding the RSVP in the letter that stated the event was in three moons. She hadn’t realized the solstice was so close. One thing was for certain, she was going to be beside herself when the wolves began to shift under the moon and she was going to be the only one standing there fighting her nature. It was easy to fight her shift when she was alone at the full moon, set apart from the rest of the pack, only hearing their howls from afar. But being in a crowd of wolves—especially the royals—was going to be a hell of a lot harder. Her phone rang just then. Not her cell phone, which was mainly silent except for the occasional f*******: or i********: notification, but her landline. She rolled her eyes to look over at the shaking vintage rotary phone whose shrill ring slices through her tension headache like a white-hot knife. She leapt up and grabbed the receiver to end the noise, and realized she’d answered the phone and now had to take the call. She sighed disgustedly. “Hello?” “Hello, Cuil—“ the Alpha coughed over the line, a wet, deathly sound. Ever since she could remember he had been aging poorly, but since her mother died, it seemed he’d been dying too. “Cuilwen.” He tried again, after some ragged breathing. “Yes, Alpha?” “I assume you’ve received your letter. The Aloha King expects my response. You’ll be attending, I expect?” he asked hopefully. Odd, since Cuilwen was sure he couldn’t have been ecstatic about his secret being leaked. “Yeah, I don’t see why not.” “Excellent. I will send word now. And Cuilwen?” She was silent, awaiting response. “Tell your mother—“ he coughed, even more urgently this time. “Tell your mother I’ll be there soon.” He hung up the line. Cuil had a feeling he didn’t mean her house.