Loved by the Vixen Alpha Queen

CHAPTER 4

The rhythmic thunder of hooves grew deafening, shaking the very foundations of the humble cottage. Astrid and Axel bolted toward the door with their instincts, screaming for the cover of the deep woods. But as the cool night air hit Astrid’s face, she skidded to a halt.

Through the open door, she saw them, the mother and the little girl, Estelle, huddled in the corner. They were defenseless, their eyes wide with a terror that Astrid herself had once inflicted upon others. For the first time, the Queen’s heart didn't feel like stone; it felt like a wound.

"Astrid, let’s move!"

Axel hissed, grabbing her arm.

"I can’t leave them,"

She gasped as she tried to summon the change, to let the white wolf emerge and tear the approaching soldiers apart, but the dampening spell from the palace still clung to her veins like lead. She was just a woman, vulnerable and slow.

"No!"

The mother cried out from within the hut. She stepped forward, shielding Estelle, her voice trembling but resolute.

"You must escape, your highness! Your life is the hope of our kind. We are just shadows in the forest. Please, go! For the future!"

Before Astrid could protest, the mother slammed the heavy oak door and threw the bolt.

"Open it!"

Astrid screamed, throwing her weight against the wood.

"I won't let you die for me!"

Axel grabbed her around the waist, hauling her back toward the tree line.

"Astrid, look at the torches! There are dozens of them! If you stay, we will all die!"

She fought him, scratching and kicking, until a horrific, jagged scream tore through the air as the sound of the cottage door being splintered by an axe. Then, the cries of the mother and daughter rose in a sharp, agonizing crescendo before falling into a sudden, sickening silence.

Astrid stopped fighting. She collapsed into the mud as the heavens finally broke. A torrential rain began to fall, cold and unforgiving, as if the sky itself were weeping for the lives extinguished in that hut. She let out a broken, guttural sob that drowned in the thunder.

"They’re coming,"

Axel whispered with his face streaked with rain and tears.

The horses were closed now. Astrid stood with her eyes vacant, her spirit shattered. She looked at her brother, the only piece of home she had left and reached out to cup his face. Her touch was uncharacteristically gentle.

"You must leave, Axel,"

She said with her voice eerily calm amidst the storm.

"Have a good life, brother. I am so sorry... for the greed, for the hate. This was all my fault. I cannot live knowing you fell because of my sins. Run. Escape. That is a royal order."

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. Axel tried to speak, but the words died in his throat. Seeing the resolve in her eyes, he turned and disappeared into the black maw of the forest.

Astrid turned to face the path, waiting for the soldiers to emerge. But she never saw them. A blinding flash of white light turned the world to fire. A bolt of lightning, summoned by the lingering magic in the atmosphere, struck her directly.

The force threw her body twenty feet through the air, hitting the sodden earth with a heavy thud.

Axel, watching from the safety of a thicket, saw her body go limp, her skin blackened by the strike. He began to crawl toward her with a scream building in his throat when the soldiers finally arrived. They circled the charred, motionless form of the Queen.

"She’s dead,"

One soldier remarked, poking the body with a spear.

"The gods did our work for us. Leave her for the crows. We have a palace to secure."

Axel waited in the silence for hours, soaked to the bone. When he finally approached her, his heart was a lead weight. Her face was

Unrecognizable; her regal features lost to the burns. He fell to his knees, wailing into the wind.

But as his tears hit her scorched skin, a soft, ethereal glow began to pulse from her chest. Before his eyes, the blackened flesh shifted and knit itself back together. The burns receded, replaced by the smooth, pale skin of the woman she had been.

"She will not wake.

A voice said.

Axel spun around. Standing in the rain yet seemingly dry. A woman draped in shimmering white silk. Her eyes were not human; they held the swirling depths of a nebula.

"Who are you?"

Axel stammered.

"I am the Oracle,"

She replied.

"Astrid is not destined to die this night, but her time in this world has ended. She has a great mission to fulfill, one that lies in a

Future you cannot yet imagine. You must be the guardian of her sleep. Protect her body until the stars align, and the world calls for the Wolf once more."

The Oracle stepped forward, placing two heavy sacks of gold at Axel’s feet.

"This is for the generations to come. Ensure your bloodline keeps the secret. She will be needed when the darkness returns in a different mask."

With a shimmer of light, the Oracle vanished.

Five Centuries Later

An old man sat in a sterile, hidden basement beneath a sprawling estate in White Lake City. He held the hand of a woman who looked no older than twenty-five, her breathing so slow it was nearly imperceptible.

"Sister,"

The old man whispered, his voice cracking with age. "I am sorry... but my time is at an end. I can no longer watch over you. But my son, Axel the Second, knows the stories. He will keep the vigil. I hope Oracle was right. I hope you find peace when you wake."

He kissed her hand one last time and left the room.

For four more centuries, the world outside changed. Stone gave way to steel; horses gave way to engines. The forest where the cottage once stood was swallowed by the grey concrete of a metropolis.

Then, one morning, a ray of sunlight pierced through a high, narrow window, landing directly across the sleeping woman’s eyes.

Astrid’s eyelids fluttered. She inhaled, a deep, jagged breath that tasted of dust and electricity.

Her eyes snapped open as she didn't see the Red Mountain or the fires of Samaria. She saw a ceiling of smooth plaster and heard a dull, rhythmic roar, the sound of a million moving vehicles.

In the Allamore district of White Lake City, the streets were a chaotic tapestry of survival. Known as the Black Street by locals, it was a place where the castaways of society built lives out of scrap metal and desperation.

Jamie, twenty-five and weary beyond her years, trudged through the morning fog. She worked double shifts, waitress by day, dancing by night, all to pay for the black-market medication that kept her mother alive. Life in Allamore had taught her one thing…

“If you don't take, you get taken.”

At 6:00 AM, the roar of a high-end engine broke the morning silence. A sleek, obsidian-black car pulled up beside Jamie. The window rolled down to reveal a woman in a sharp professional suit.

"Excuse me,"

The woman said.

"We’re looking for this address. The GPS is... struggling with these alleys."

Jamie glanced at the paper, then peered into the back seat. Her breath caught. There sat a woman in an elegant black dress, wearing a wide-brimmed, vintage-style hat that screamed old-world wealth. She looked like a queen displaced in time.

“Rich marks,”

Jamie thought.

“Easy money.”

"This is a dangerous neighborhood for outsiders."

Jamie said, putting on her best 'helpful local' face.

"You’ll get stripped of your hubcaps before you find the turn-off. I can take you there personally for a small fee."

"Really? That’s very kind,"

The secretary said.

But the woman in the back seat remained silent with her eyes fixed on the crumbling buildings outside. The secretary checked her reflection in the rearview mirror and hesitated.

"Actually, I'm sorry... there's no room in the back."

Jamie rolled her eyes.

"Fine! Don’t blame me when you end up in a dead-end alley with a flat tire. I was just trying to be a good neighbour."

She turned to walk away, but a cold, commanding voice drifted from the car.

"Let her in. I am weary of this 'Allamore.' I want this finished."

The secretary immediately hopped out to open the door. Jamie slid into the plush leather seat, the scent of expensive perfume and ancient dust filling her nostrils.

The woman beside her, Astrid, was breathtaking. She possessed a terrifying beauty that made Jamie feel like she was sitting next to a coiled viper.

"So,"

Jamie said, trying to break the heavy silence as they drove.

"You’re obviously not from around here. Are you looking to buy some property? Or are you into the... illegal side of Allamore?"

Astrid didn't turn her head.

"I am looking for what belongs to me."

"Right. Well, just a heads-up, people around here don't like 'mysterious' types. Especially in weird hats."

"Ma'am, we have arrived."

The driver interrupted, pulling up to a revitalized historical building that stood like a fortress among the slums.

Jamie hopped out, blocking the door.

"Wait a minute. The 'tour guide' fee. Let’s say twenty bucks, and we call it even?"

Astrid stepped out of the car, standing tall. She looked Jamie up and down with her golden eyes, though softened by the modern

Light, holding a flicker of ancient fire.

"You offered help."

Astrid said with her voice like velvet-wrapped steel.

"You did not mention a price until the destination was reached. A scumbag like you should learn the value of your own word."

She reached out and gently, almost mockingly, caressed Jamie’s hair. Jamie slapped the hand away.

"You, rich people, are all the same!"

Jamie spat.

"You think a fancy hat and a big car make you better than us? You’re pathetic. You’re just a tourist in a graveyard."

Jamie turned on her heel and stomped away, fuming. But then, a sound stopped her.

It was a laugh. Not a polite titter, but a deep, genuine, and slightly manic laugh. Jamie turned back, confused. Astrid was doubled over slightly, looking at Jamie with genuine amusement.

"I like her,"

Astrid murmured to her secretary.

"She has the spirit of a scavenger."

The secretary nodded and reached into her purse, handing Jamie a crisp thousand-dollar bill. Jamie stared at the note, her jaw dropping. It was more than she made in two months.

"Wait!"

Jamie called out, but the driver and secretary stepped into her path, forming a human wall.

Astrid didn't look back as she walked into the building with the stride of someone who had once owned the world, leaving Jamie standing on the cracked pavement of Allamore, clutching a small fortune and wondering if she had just met a goddess or a ghost.