To Kill a Werewolf King

A Strange Guest

Chance

I head out through the front door of the packhouse, grabbing hold of the rail and descending the eleven steps to the driveway. I’m still fuming, so I stop at the bottom, running a hand, throwing my hair and taking a deep breath. It does nothing for me, so I take another and another until I feel like I can continue surviving. Then I remember what my father said.

Weeks.

How many weeks?

"She’s here", I hear through the pack mindlink but I had already sensed that when I heard the rumbling of the vehicle down the road beyond the gated fence of the property. I close my eyes, taking another breath, although I feel like kicking over the potted plant that I know is beside my leg to the right of me. I f.ucking hate roses. My mother loves them, but all they remind me of is delicacy. I don’t care for delicate things and I have a foreboding feeling that whoever this woman is, is going to be delicate. Of course, it’s possible to be delicate in many ways. Roses for example have thorns to help prevent scarring, and thorns can bring down the mightiest of tigers.

No matter how sharp this Roses’ thorns are, I have to do as I’ve told. For today at least.

‘It’s just one day.’ my wolf, Fenris, mumbles to me. ‘You don’t actually have to sleep with her.’

‘No longer disgusted by me I see.’ I mutter back. He always does this, hides away during a session. I don’t actually know why. I’ve used many adjectives to describe what he could be feeling - hatred, anger, sadness, pity, disgust, to name a few - but he’s never given me a hint. Even now he just huffs at me, perking his ears to listen to the movement of the car stopping just before us. Carefully, I walk towards the center of the pathway, hoping I’ve stopped before the passenger door. I hear the door open, and a woman muttering under her breath to herself. Even with mine and Fenris’ excellent hearing, I cannot make out definitively the sentences, just words.

“Apollo… Bulls.hit… Julianna…”

Along with her muttering, I hear the rustling of tote bags, and I don’t know if she’s seen me yet, but as hear her feet hit the ground, I move my eyes in her direction. It's a subconscious muscle movement at this point, to attempt to look in the direction of the sound.

I’m not expecting to see anything, so imagine my f.ucking shock when I can see the perfect silhouette of a small, curvy woman surrounded by a galaxy of hues I have no idea how to describe. All my life, I’ve been in the dark and although I still am, whoever this woman is, has brought about some sort of color into that darkness. I have no idea how to describe what my mind’s eye is seeing but I know I’m seeing colors for the first time.

The colors flow like water around her. But not calmly, like ripples, more sudden and stark, like rapids. And the colors are dark, versions of black that I don’t recognize. One of them reminds me of the powerful aura I felt from a warlock once, but it’s not the same. This is deeper, consisting of a rawer stroke of power, like the nobility among the King’s inner circle. Its waves of luxury pull me in, casting a feeling of timidness within me as I’m suddenly reminded of my rank.

The other reminds me of the tides during a storm, a mixing of peaceful chaos and orderly destruction. A strange sense of security comes from it, though I can no longer help the feeling of inferiority in my soul the longer I stare. I can’t say for sure, I will have to talk to my mother about it, but I feel like this is the color blue I’m seeing for the first time. She's told me the seas and oceans are blue. I still have no clue about the other, but this one feels familiar to my mind.

She also smells f.ucking heavenly, like the first rain of spring and the first hints of snow in the winter. I can feel her aura, and it’s so very powerful, yet so contained. It carries the briskness of her scent, permeating the air around her, forcing itself into my lungs until it’s all I dare to breathe. I don’t know why this woman smells so perfect, or why I can see her in a way I have never seen anyone other than the dying before, but I don’t want these things to go away.

‘We’re her escort for the day. We have her all to ourselves.’ Fenris comments, inhaling the wondrous scent and focusing in on the light pitter patter of steps as she moves towards us. I understand what he’s saying but as her scent gets stronger my brain flatlines. She’s no longer muttering, and speaking, or even breathing it sounds like, but her heart is racing.

And I realize, as I watch her look me up in an appraising sort of way, I can see her eyes. Not in the way that eyes are supposed to look, from what I've been told. She has no iris, no pupil. Instead, there seems to be some sort of fluttering, reminding me of the times when my physical eyes focus on a flame. I know it’s there because I can feel the heat and I can’t see the light, but the darkness somehow becomes… lighter, less heavy. Tends to flutter and sway.

Her eyes do the same, the flames filling up the entire sclera of both eyes. The color is a mix of her auras, what I think are blues and that darkish, off-black color that I don't recognize. And the flames flicker a bit higher when they land on my face.

I can hear her heart clearer than any others before, even my own. It’s loud pounding in my ears, racing to slow down as she tries to contain herself, bringing an inner smirk to my face.

‘She must find us attractive as well.’ I tell Fenris, and he hums in agreement, pacing around inside my mind.

‘What’s got you so anxious?’ I ask, unsure why he’s acting jittery suddenly.

‘I think it’s her. I can’t seem to settle. I feel like ripping myself from you and bowing at her feet.’ He says, sounding baffled at what he’s saying. I’m a bit baffled too to be honest, bit I can’t disagree with him. Her aura is so powerful it makes me want to bend the knee in submission and she hasn’t even said anything.

“Hey, I’m Hawke.” The woman suddenly says, startling me as I realize she’s standing before me now while I was distracted speaking with Fenris. Her aura and her eyes are so much clearer as she is closer, revealing tiny dots of light, almost what I would imagine the night sky to look like. Fenris chuckles quietly in my mind, knowing how much I f.ucking hate jump scares.

“Hi. I’m –”

“Chance Whitehall. Third son of Alpha Paul Whitehall and Luna Jennifer Demontigny Whitehall., standing Omega to the Blue Rising Pack. Siblings being Davina Whitehall, future Alpha, and her Beta, Johnathon Whitehall. Though I don’t see any of them around, so you’re the only one I will bow to. Thank you for the respect of showing up and greeting me. I’ll be sure the King is aware.” She says, her throaty voice dripping with irritation. I’m stunned that she knows exactly who I am, as most dignitaries and other Alphas do not. I’m doubly stunned by the fact that she did not mention my blindness when mentioning my title. Fenris is stunned as well, listening carefully to the cadence of the woman’s tone, memorizing it for the both of us. I watch as her aura bows deep in respect towards me, causing my cheeks to warm.

No one bows to me.

Ever.

She stands back up before she speaks again.

“Care to show me to my room? I have things to unpack. It was a tiring journey, albeit short thankfully.” She says, unmoving before me. My tongue feels heavy in my mouth, and I’m lost for words. But my brain knows what to do, so I reach out, anticipating she’s holding a bag, and find that I'm thankfully correct.

“Oh, you don’t –”

“It’s no problem. “ I rush to say, taking the bag and turning back to the direction of the packhouse steps. I have to step the my left so I can reach the railing, and my steps are careful as they always are, but my anxiety is spiking with each step I take. I can feel her presence behind me like a shadow. Not daunting or scary, but persistent, constant and unfailing. It makes me uncertain about what I’ve gotten myself into for the next few weeks.

I lead her up to the front door, hearing the steps of another approaching as we do.

“I’ve been instructed to get Miss Blakeney settled in.” An Omega housemaid, I know as Bridgit, says to me. I know she’s roughly three feet away, as I can feel the presence of her wolf already.

“Please do.” I state, handing over the bag, then turning to where I hope Miss blakeney is standing.

“Miss–”

“It’s just Hawke. Miss Blakeney was my mother before she mated.” She says, and again, I’m taken aback because this woman had been no more than a foot before me and I had not sensed her wolf at all. Her aura completely hid her from us and others I presume.

‘Interesting’ Fenris notes, putting out a wave of intent towards her, attempting to feel her wolf now. ‘She’s there. She’s well tucked away for some reason though.’

“O-Okay… Umm.. M-Meet me here in a-an hour and I’ll give yo-you a tour.” I propose,stuttering through my words and cursing myself inwardly for the sudden shyness. There’s no way around it though. I don’t want to admit it, but this tiny woman intimidates me and I have no idea who she really is. Knowing she may just decide not to be led around by the blind, stuttering fool, I decide not to resent her if that’s the case.

“I would love that. You probably know this place like the back of your hand.” She comments on my blindness for the first time. And although I’m unphased by her making a comment about my blindness, I’m totally surprised by the specific comment she made. I feel my cheeks warm with the compliment and my tongue ties again.

“Gr-Great…” I say, still stumbling through and quieter than I meant to. I clear my throat but there's no point in speaking again. I’ve already revealed myself. I’m a f.ucking i.diot. I don’t know why I’m tripping over my tongue suddenly, as I’ve never had an issue talking with women before, but this one…

This one is different.

This one has brought more surprises and uncertainty into my life in the last five minutes than anyone has in 29 years.