CHAPTER 1
A rain of flaming arrows descended upon the Kingdom of Samaria. The sky, once blue, was choked with the black smoke of a dying nation. Screams echoed through the narrow streets as the soldiers of Artesia moved through the village like a scythe through wheat, slaughtering everyone in their path.
"Father? Mother!"
Princess Astrid stumbled from her chambers with her heart hammering against her ribs. She was met not by the familiar comfort of the palace, but by a symphony of agony.
"Princess! You must flee!"
Her butler appeared, breathless and pale and before she could ask about her parents, two arrows whistled through the air, piercing his throat. Astrid’s scream was cut short as a soldier seized her by the hair, dragging her toward the throne room.
There sat the Head General of Artesia, lounging on her father’s throne.
"There is nowhere left to run, little wolf,"
The General sneered.
"Your parents are dead, and your clan’s wickedness ends today, unless you show us your true form."
"I don't understand!"
Astrid sobbed.
"Please, I don't know what you’re talking about!"
The General’s eyes narrowed. Suspecting she was hiding her nature, he signalled his men. They pinned her to the stone floor, stripping her of her royal silk. The General unfurled a heavy whip. Each strike was a thunderclap against her skin, tearing through her flesh until the air smelled of salt and copper.
Then, the world shifted.
Astrid’s whimpers turned into a guttural growl as her eyes ignited into a terrifying, molten gold. Her bones snapped and reshaped with sickening cracks, and white fur sprouted from her skin, thick and coarse.
Before the soldiers could blink, a massive, ancient white wolf stood where the girl had been.
"Monstrosity!"
The General roared.
"Kill the beast!"
The soldiers unleashed a volley of arrows, but they bounced harmlessly off the wolf’s enchanted fur. With a blur of white light, the wolf lunged, and she tore the General’s head from his shoulders in a single, savage bite.
By dawn, not a single Artesian soldier remained alive within the castle walls.
Four Years Later
The Kingdom of Artesia had finally moved past the shadow of the Samarian m******e. King Valerius, widowed for a year and facing pressure from a restless council, announced a grand ball to choose a new queen.
Women from across the land flocked to the palace, but one stood apart. She wore a heavy hood that masked her face until she stood in the center of the ballroom. As the cloak fell, it revealed a woman in a gown of blood-red silk, her beauty so sharp it felt like a blade.
The King was captivated, so he approached her, taking her hand.
"A woman of such grace... are you lost, my lady?"
"I am only lost if you reject me,"
She replied with her voice like velvet.
"For I am here to be your Queen."
Charmed by her audacity and weary of the sycophants who usually surrounded him, the King chose her on the spot as he did not see the predatory glint in her golden eyes.
As the wedding approached, the mysterious Astrid remained secluded in the Queen’s chambers. When a servant knocked to offer help, Astrid’s voice came cold and sharp from behind the door.
"I do not need help. Leave me."
On the third day of the full moon, the celebration was interrupted by Celia, the King’s daughter and a fierce General. She dragged a bloodied woman into court.
"Father!"
Celia shouted.
"This woman is a Samarian spy. They have beast blood! We are in danger as long as we harbor their kind!"
The King looked at the trembling prisoner, who begged for mercy.
"She is no threat, Celia. Release her."
"But Father—"
"—Enough! Take her away!"
Celia’s face contorted with rage.
As she turned to lead the woman out, she suddenly drew her sword and beheaded the prisoner in front of the horrified crowd.
"We cannot gamble with our lives,"
Celia said coldly, casting a dark look at the new Queen.
"Congratulations on your marriage, Father."
That night, after the wedding was finalized in the royal bedchamber, Astrid offered the King a massage to soothe his nerves.
"You seem troubled by Celia,"
Astrid whispered.
"She is the daughter of my first wife, a woman of dark magic."
The King sighed.
"I fear Celia has inherited those witch-like ways. I would sacrifice a thousand lives to keep my throne safe from her."
Astrid leaned down, her lips brushing his ear.
"Do not worry, my King. If there is no King, there is always a Queen to take the throne."
Before he could react, she drove a hidden silver spear through his heart.
As his life faded, Astrid let out a piercing wolf’s howl, a frequency silent to humans, but a clarion call to the Samarians hiding in the shadows. By sunrise, her kin had stormed the palace.
Astrid walked calmly to the throne, placed the blood-stained crown on her head, and declared herself the Ruler of Artesia.
Weeks later, Celia returned from the borders to find her father dead and a beast on the throne. She attempted a midnight assassination, slipping into the Queen's chambers with a raised blade.
"I thought you were smarter than this."
A voice spoke from the shadows.
Astrid stepped forward, her form shimmering as she shifted into the great white wolf. She pinned Celia to the floor with her teeth, sinking into Celia's arm just enough to draw blood and break her spirit.
"Kill me,"
Celia spat.
"Death is redemption,"
The Queen replied, shifting back into her human form.
"I prefer service. You have the blood of a witch, Celia. Awaken that power. Serve as my right hand, and we shall conquer every kingdom in this world. Refuse, and you will die as a footnote in my history."
Broken and seeing the absolute power of the Samarian Queen, Celia bowed her head.
The people of Artesia, seeing their last hope of surrender, fell to their knees, and the reign of the White Wolf Queen had begun.
