The Luna Breeder

~Crimson pack’s palace~ Ethan’s POV “Ashen Crow, do you admit defeat?” the queen’s voice came, powerful, resonating fear in my very being. My heart raced. I couldn’t see her face; the light behind her was blinding. She and her cohort of chancellors had my Alpha, Ashen Crow, and me kneeling to accept our verdict. We had just lost the war. How? I calculated everything right, nothing was out of place. Their troops were many, but it wasn’t a threat to a small pack like ours. “I would be at the other side with my ancestors before me or any of my men surrender to you,” he spat back at her. I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. I knew I couldn’t pledge such loyalty. The queen cackled like an old witch before saying, “soothe yourself, Alpha Ashen”, and with that and the subtle sound of the blade swinging, his head came rolling down. When it stopped, his eyes were locked in mine, as if daring me to betray him. Just then, a wave of cold water washed over my face, and I realised I had been dreaming, but the fear of impending doom still stayed with me. We had indeed lost the war and the Alpha, and I was kept prisoner for the final day of judgement. I was told the queen of the Crimson pack enjoyed torturing her prey. The prison warder dragged me off the floor like I weighed nothing. It was the day of reckoning, and I might have just had a glimpse of it. Soon we were kneeling before the queen, exactly as I foresaw, and for the first time, I cursed that damned gift of mine. “Ashen Crow,” she began, and I knew the rest. “We won’t admit defeat, we’d rather be on the other side with our ancestors,” I cut the queen short. Ashen and I share a knowing look, and he gives me a slight nod. But only I knew what was coming next. And it happened in the blink of an eye, Alpha Ashen’s eyes locked lifelessly onto mine. Tears escaped my eyes, and death felt like a sudden relief from this pain. I waited for the sword to hit my neck, falling into death’s cold embrace. “Stop Otto,” a voice came from behind us. The man came forward and bowed, his cape trailing with Ashen’s blood. “You will need this one, Queen Charlotte,” the man said. It was then that I noticed the seer’s staff he was holding. This old man was about to be my saviour. The panel of chancellors murmured in unison, each drawing his own conclusion, debating on who would object first. “Silence,” she commanded, “this better be good, seer.” “I wouldn’t dare to interrupt your trail in vain. This one is a shadow wolf,” he said. The murmurs erupted again, “A breeder is what I suggest. His blood will do a great good for your lineage.” A shadow wolf? Me? What was that even? Does that explain the predictive dreams I always had? I didn’t care at that moment, I held on to the string of silence following that and wished upon every shooting star on what the queen would decide. “A shadow wolf has never surfaced in two hundred years,” one of the chancellors stood up, “act with discretion, my queen.” He cleared his throat before taking his seat again. I could tell that keeping me alive did him no service at all. “Exactly why you should keep this one,” the seer said as he turned to me and waved the old black staff over my head, and I couldn’t see it clearly, but a flame exploded over my head. The seer had proved his point, and the panel concluded at that point. “Ethan Bladestone is sentenced to be subject to the royal family as a breeder for the next Luna,” she announced, and the place fell silent. No objections, no suggestions. She was my real enemy. I forgot that I had pledged to be loyal and die with my pack a minute ago, and now, just now, I had thanked all the stars in the sky that my head was still attached to my neck. How fickle. I despised myself for that. But more than that, I despised this tyrant. And for every drop of blood my pack shed, I was going to draw it back. Blood for blood. *** ~ Crimson palace, Lyra’s chambers~ ~Lyra’s POV~ We had just won the war against the Saxton pack, all thanks to grandmothers' grand schemes. I felt bad because we didn’t win fair and square. But as grandma always says, there’s nothing fair about war. You win, or you lose. Simple. I sighed. “Lilah,” I called to one of the maidservants outside, “prepare a bath for me.” Minutes later, a knock came on the door. “Greetings, princess, the queen sends a message,” I could tell it was Gustov. I adjusted my bathrobe before opening the door to greet the short man. “What’s the message this time?” “The queen has carefully handpicked a breeder for your highness and with it, a letter.” I sighed, not again. Setting me up with someone other than the only person I ever want to be with, Otto. I snatch the letter from the dwarf and slam the door. I read the first three words, and I was already tired of reading. I dropped the letter and went in for my bath. Immediately, I got out of the bath, and a knock came at the door. It opened immediately as I struggled to get my robe in place, and that’s when I saw him. Ethan Bladestone. I turned my face away immediately. Grandma had sent me to be a Trojan in his army for the war. That was when I got to know their brilliant plan to win the war and bring victory to my pack. I didn’t like the fact that I stooped so low just to win a war, as if we hadn’t won enough. “Get out!” I commanded him without looking. Silence. I turned slowly and let my eyes land on his tall, slim frame. The candles were dimly lit, but I could see that He was just standing there, wearing the crimson-marked clothes, as if hypnotised. If he was wearing the crimson-marked garment, it meant he was one of us now, which only meant he had betrayed his pack and escaped execution. And if he was in my chambers at this time, it only meant he was the breeder my grandmother arranged. I should have read that damned letter. “Ethan,” I called to him as I approached him. Each step more daring than the last. His face was down as if his eyes were avoiding me. I could tell his aura was something sinister. “Ethan,” a whisper again, when I was a breath away from him, that was when I captured his eyes. Dark as coal, as if possessed by something wicked. I screamed and tried to get away, but he drew me into a tight embrace, my robe falling freely from my body as he pressed my wet body against his. His body was hot, as if in heat. “Ethan, wait!” “Gotcha,” he whispered into my ear.