To Kill a Werewolf King

Juliana and Dutch

Hawke

Oh, great.

Just who I need to hear about.

The old hag.

“Dorian, you know I don’t trust her. She’s given false readings before.” I remind him kindly.

“Has she though? Or are you just not comprehending? I remember the last reading she gave you. Did it not turn out correct in the end? No matter the journey?” He persists. I purse my lips, unwilling to answer. He’s right. The mission was a success in the end. I just had to damn near kill myself to make it happen.

“So? Do you wish to know what she has to say or no?” He’s being patient. I hate when’s patient. Because he knows… He f.ucking knows he’s f.ucking got me.

“Yes, please, sir.” I give him the only response he’ll accept.

“Good girl. Grab a pen. You’re gonna wanna write this one down.” He instructs, so I do as he says. I already had a pen handy, laying next to my whiskey decanter on top of a notepad page full of names, agreements and favors. I reach over and grab it, flipping the page, and preparing to write.

“Okay. I’m ready to go.” I inform him when I’m comfortably settled once more.

“There is a right way and a wrong way to do things. A right choice and a wrong choice to make. A right path and a wrong path to follow. Keep your wits about you. Trust only your wolf bond, no one and no thing else. Your bonds have already been sewn, choose wisely for one bond that is weaker than the others can break all the bonds together. Light the way and you'll find your place in the darkness.”

I wrote everything down as he said it, not allowing myself time to process yet as I knew I would need to reread it anyway. Dorian sat in silence on the other end as I finished writing and started reading. I read the vision three times before I decided it’s not something I want to focus on right now.

“Okay. Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it. I’ll have to try to read it later. More phone calls and all.” I finally say, sighing through my nose. I am appreciative, it’s just not going to be my main focus right now. I don’t even like Sylvia.

“Mmm. I’ll see you tomorrow, kitten. I wanna talk to you in person. Good luck.” His smug tone gives away the smirk I know he’s carrying as he hangs up before I can respond.

Umm… what?

F.ucking Dorian.

F.ucking Sylvia!

Ugh.

Okay…

Who’s next?

I spend the next few hours calling in all of my favors and contacts, exchanging items and deals where necessary to sweeten some pots. Never the kind Dorian gave me though. I can’t take that kind of risk with anyone. My mind wander back to our conversation and the next page on my notepad frequently, so I stop after the seventh call. I have phase one's needs now taken care of any way, so a break is exactly what I need. From the arrangements and from Dorian.

Briefly, I consider the order Apollo gave me, and although I still felt the residual power from it, it had been three days already. I decided to push against that feeling in my mind, testing it, an within a few moments, the string binding me to obey, broke. I was surprised at myself for having the ability to remove an Obedience Bond, let alone from a deity, but I didn't question it too much, chalking it up to Apollo not really wantitng to command me and leaving me with an out.

I grab up my phone, shooting a text to my bestie.

Me:

Hey babe!

Let's get coffee?

Jules:

Yes! Dutch?

Me:

Always. 10?

Jules:

15.

Buy mine. ?

I smile at our back and forth. I met Jules when I was 23, after I figured everything out, on a suicide revenge quest. She’s unaware of who I am, what I do and how much blood I have on my hands. She’s pure and perfect and sweet, and I’ll f.ucking kill for her, readily. She’s a maid in the Royal Palace, a kitchen maid specifically. Her meals are to die for. Sometimes she’ll bring me new recipes to try on her days off. Only if I agree does she take it to the head chef. Some of her dishes are just too damn good to share.

Do you think you have an idea where this is going?

Is it in the direction of me using Jules to poison the King’s food, or to gain access to the King’s food in any way?

Well… I’d be lying if that hadn’t originally been the plan. This b.itch. This sweet, docile creature figured me out within hours of gaining employment. I hadn’t even been near the King’s food yet. How she knew, I still don't know. She's never told me. I've never asked. I've chalked it up to my impulsive nature. Now, just because I'm free doesn't mean she didn't lay down the law for me to follow. The only rule being, if I decided to kill the King, I needed to make a foolproof plan. Not rush into another suicide mission with only a 50% chance of actually killing the King.

“Because tasters, between the kitchen and King's mouth… duh.” She'd emphasized so many years ago. I'd been so caught off guard by her calling me out and lecturing me on how to assassinate the King in a corner in the kitchen, that I let her prattle on and on… wrapping her delicate fingers around my heart in the process.

I didn't love her as deeply as I loved Tommy and she knows my goals and plans for him. She's offered to join me on my coming trip to the Underworld. But I don't know about taking her there. She can defend herself for sure and her wolf, Lyla, is an excellent fighter as well, I've seen them both train. But… I don't want to put her in any kind of predicament if this all goes south. She's far too important to me.

I throw myself together, slipping my feet into flats once I've dressed and my hair into a messy bun, then I'm out the door. Dutch Bros. Coffee is local to the Pacific Northwest, which is where the Wolf King resides for the summers. Being the beginning of September, I know he will be wanting to fly back to Colorado for the winter. I do appreciate the placement of both Royal packhouses.

The PNW packhouse is a three story, 9 thousand foot house. It has eighteen bedrooms, and twelve bathrooms, including the one in the King's suite, on the top and middle floors while a huge kitchen, dining area and living room were sprawled out on the base floor. It is located on a very high cliff, mere yards from the edge where, when one looked down, the cliff plateaus to another level that was home to a beautiful light house. The waves break against the lower cliff, never reaching the upper cliff at all. It allows for the experience of the majesty within safe boundaries as the cliff is, of course, gated off to keep people from falling.

The packhouse was surrounded by trees up to a few hundred feet from the driveway, giving way to lush green grass, and a large oval driveway. There is a fountain in the center, a place where many kids who reside here play and enjoy themselves in the summer. The coastline is beautiful, with magnetizing sunsets and mostly perfect weather throughout the summer. Some rainy days, but not many.

Whereas the Rocky packhouse, located near The Rocky Mountains, was devastatingly haunting when covered in three feet of snow.

But we’re not there right now.

Once I get to the coffee shop I order our coffees and find a two seater high table in the corner unoccupied. The apartment I rent when the King resides in the PNW is technically in a college apartment building, the only room on the top floor and only I have access to it through the elevator and emergency stairs. Though I’ve had plenty of hooligans and drunken frat boys try to gain access, I’ve managed for the last three years to keep them at bay. But the most important part is that it’s located within walking distance of the sit-down Dutch cafe.

I found this awesome because I’d only ever known the deliciously fantastic coffee company to be just a drive thru cafe with walk-up windows. The first summer we came here after I was hired, in the middle of winter might I add, I had nowhere to get out for a bit to relax until I found this place. It only made it better that it was a Dutch cafe. That was right before my very first clumsy assassination attempt on the King.

Jules shows up a few minutes later, basically right on time. I wave her over as her eyes land on me and she breaks out into a huge smile. It’s really only been a few days since we saw each other last. Still, I stand and meet her halfway, hugging her tightly.

“I missed you.” I say, inhaling deeply her sweet, earthy scent. I feel Akira purr in my soul at the touch, and the happiness that comes from being in Juliana’s presence for us. I smile at the small interaction, missing my wolf. Finally we separate and head to the table, filling the space between us with idle chat about recent comings and goings. Mostly things in her life as she knows I cannot divulge much information about my day to day.

“So… what about you? The usual outside of work?” She asks. I know she’s genuinely curious, always hopeful that I’ll find something to do in the little spare time I tend to have. If only she knew all of my spare time was going towards planning the King’s assassination recently. I can tell her. She’d be happy to hear about it, hating the old wolf for the murder of her brother. Why? Because he was an Omega who needed to be taught a lesson when he accidentally dropped the practice dummy.

Yeah, I’m not even gonna talk about what that implies and just say that he received too many whippings, his body giving out in the middle of his punishment. I’m mostly desensitized to killing these days, innocents or criminals I never really know. I’m the King’s assassin, my job isn’t to question, but to kill and I do. I don’t really care if they’re innocent though, because everyone has secrets to hide. I will only deny an order when it’s for someone under the age of 18. F.ucking Johnathan carries those out.

F.uck him and his whole family, the vile piece of s.hit.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jules’ voice brings me from the distraction of my thoughts of the past, back into the present. I give her a small smile, looking away and shaking my head and then laughing disheartenedly.

F.uck. I don’t want to talk about this.