Chapter five
1119 Words
LUCIAN’S POV
Silence filled the ritual chamber and no one made a move for a long moment.
The girl was still laying on the stone platform, her body had gone limp and blood covered her face, even soaking the torn clothes she had on.
But that was not what held everyone’s attention.
It was the mark.
The Queen’s Mark was clearly visible on the side of her neck.
One of the priests stepped closer, with a place look plastered on his face.
“That… that is not possible,” he whispered.
Another priest shook his head slowly. “The ritual does not make mistakes.”
A third one looked at me cautiously. “But she is Wolfless.”
Their whispers started spreading through the chamber.
But I said nothing as my eyes remained fixated on the mark.
A servant girl—in rag-like clothes—with mud on her hands and possibly her entire existence.
And the Queen’s Mark seared into her flesh.
This should not exist. This cannot exist.
One of the older priests cleared his throat.
“Your Majesty,” he said carefully, “perhaps the ritual has chosen—”
“Enough.” I ordered and the whispering stopped immediately.
I stepped closer to the platform and looked down at the girl again.
She looked fragile now and she was barely breathing.
There was blood still running down the corners of her eyes and down her temples.
She should have died during the ritual, at least any ordinary human would have.
Yet she was still alive and that mark remained on her neck.
“Your Majesty,” another priest said, “this matter must be handled carefully. If the court hears of this—”
I did not need him to finish that statement to that know that if the court heard about this, it would become a disaster.
A servant marked as Queen. A Wolfless girl tied to the throne.
The political marriage to Lady Seraphina waiting for me would collapse before it even began.
Rival packs would question my rule and the chaos that would follow, would be unthinkable.
All because of one girl.
The girl suddenly made a weak sound and I turned to look at her.
Her eyelids were fluttering, which meant she was waking up. She groaned faintly and she tried to move her head.
But the pain in her expression told me she could barely even do that.
“Where…” she questioned weakly as her eyes opened slowly.
They moved around the chamber in confusion before landing on me and fear overtook her face in an instant.
“What did you do to me?” she asked.
No one answered her.
She tried to move her arm but the effort made her wince. “Why… why am I here?”
She lifted her hands slowly towards her neck and brushed the mark.
“What is that?” she whispered.
The priests exchanged glances and I ignored her and turned away.
“Prepare the rejection ritual,” I said.
One of the priests looked at me in surprise. “But your Majesty…”
“Now.”
They hesitated at first, and then another priest spoke up. “To reject a Queen marked by the ritual is not a small matter.”
“She is not a Queen.”
The priest lowered his head. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
They began preparing the ritual and the girl watched them in confusion.
“What are they doing?” she asked. But no one responded.
The priests formed another circle around the platform and begun chanting again.
The girl struggled in pain against the restraints.
“Stop,” she said. “Please stop.”
But it was too late as the ritual started, a glowing red light came from the platform and the high priest nodded at me to declare the rejection.
So I spoke.
“I Lucian Alpha King of Valdris, reject you—what’s her name?” I asked.
“Elara.” The younger priest replied.
“Okay,” I nodded. “I Lucian Alpha King of Valdris, reject you Elara as my mate and queen.”
And immediately I uttered those words I felt the bond forming between us snap.
It dissolved quickly and then it was gone.
The glowing from the platform stopped and the priests lowered their voices.
One of them stepped closer to the platform and looked at the girl’s neck.
“The bond is broken,” he said.
The girl looked between us helplessly. “What bond?”
But the mark still remained on her neck. I looked at it for another moment.
Then I spoke again. “Remove it.”
The priest frowned slightly. “Your Majesty?”
“The mark,” I said calmly. “Cut it out.”
The room went quiet and the younger priests shifted nervously. “To cut a royal mark from flesh could be dangerous, especially to her.”
I looked at him “Do I look like I care! Do it.”
No one argued again and one of the guards stepped forward with a dagger.
The girl saw the knife and started panicking.
“What are you doing?” she asked quickly.
The guard grabbed her shoulder to hold her still, she tried to pull away but she was too weak to do that.
“Wait,” she said in fear. “What are you doing?”
As the blade cut through her neck, she screamed in agony.
The guard peeled the mark from her skin while the priests held her down, blood flowed down her neck immediately as she cried in pain.
By the time the guard stepped back, the mark was gone, only a cut open wound remained.
The girl’s head fell sideways and she lost consciousness again, but blood continued dripping from the cut.
I looked at her one last time, then turned away.
“Take her to the Deadlands,” I said.
The guards hesitated at first, then one of them asked, “Alive, Your Majesty?”
“Yes.”
They nodded and two guards moved to lift her from the platform.
Her head was limp as they carried her out of the chamber and no one said a word while they left.
The priests remained where they stood, watching the doorway.
One of them finally disrupted the silence. “Your Majesty… if she survives—”
“She won’t.”
No human survived the Deadlands and everyone in this kingdom knew that.
The chamber became silent once more.
Outside, the guards would already be riding towards the border.
By morning, the girl would be gone and this mistake would disappear with her.
- Writer
