A Daughter of Silvaris

Chapter 3 - Revelations

The journey back to The Northlands seemed everlasting.

It was audibly soundless for what felt like hours, until Papa abruptly snapped his fangs at Oberon—fangs that had not yet receded since dinner—ordering him into silence even though he had uttered no words. Clearly there were heated, telepathic opinions being thrown back and forth between Mama and Papa, and Oberon’s interjections were not welcome.

Papa’s fury was palpable, and showed no hint of dissipating, instead rolling off him until the atmosphere turned thick and heavy. The horses snickered at the frequent rumbles from his chest, and Mama’s mare nearly spooked when she herself snarled back at him. I’d never seen Mama snarl at anything before, but her anxiety crashed into me like turbulent waves crashing against a cliff face in a storm. Unyielding, corrosive.

Holding the reins in one hand, I had started to chew the skin around my other fingers absentmindedly—a ripping sting and the taste of iron in my mouth as I chewed too far. The small throbbing pain didn’t bother me though, it was helping, really… a distraction, from the twisting knots churning up the food in my belly.

Just when I could take the silence no longer, when I was ready to scream at them all to include me, to tell me what the hell was going on, I saw the void. A c***k in the mountain, wide enough to fit five horses abreast and black as onyx, was our portal back to The Northlands. There were several voids located across our continent, each leading to a void somewhere else, like simple doors—doors that could carry you across a territory in a matter of a few paces. We rode into the darkness until it blinded us, and then we rode out the other side, more than a hundred miles north and into Iron Ridge Pack lands.

We bypassed Ferratonin—our beautiful city built of grey stone that shimmered in the moonlight, streets lined with colour and blooms, and trisected by the Lewyd river flowing down from the grey, snow-capped Arianeira Mountains the city was mined from, and forking at the vibrant Arts District, whose colourful, spirited streets would likely have lifted my mood. But I did not want my mood lifted; I did not want the temporary relief of distraction. I wanted to go home. I wanted to tuck myself away, hidden, protected, and not come out again until I could be absolutely sure I’d never see that man again.

Almost there. Almost home.

I inhaled deeply, letting the homely scent of the pine trees soothe my racing mind. We emerged from the forest to the whitewash cobbled streets of Iron Ridge.

The courtyard at the apex of the hill was banked by the High Alpha’s house on the right side, and the Beta’s house, home to Papa’s Second in Command, Robart Thornton, and his family, to the left. Their beauty was hidden in the evening, but by day you could appreciate the steps made of the same grey stone that led to a wraparound porch, the glittering fountain in the centre, the ivy that snaked up the great walls and around the large oak doors and bay windows, and the bushels of brightly coloured flowers, pinks and yellows and lilacs, Mama loved so much.

Mister Grancis, our stableman with a head of thick chestnut hair that matched Orion’s pony’s, despite his advancing years, was already waiting for us when we arrived. Papa’s stallion whinnied in fright when he leapt from his saddle in his giant, silver wolf form and disappeared into the night, his snarls echoing back to us from the forest. Mama handed Orion—who had fallen asleep on the ride home, blissfully unaware of the gravity of the night’s events—to Mister Grancis, who stood wide-eyed but said nothing of his High Alpha’s outburst, before dismounting and scooping Orion back into her arms, holding him tightly to her chest. My legs barked in pain and wobbled when I hit the ground, nearly numb from the ride.

“Take Olena to her room please, Oberon. I’ll be along after I’ve put Orion down to bed,” Mama said, her voice weary.

“Yes, mother,” Oberon said, a hand at my back guiding inside. “Come on sis, let’s get to bed.”

I walked in silence behind my older brother, the only sounds being our shoes on the carpeted runners, the occasional creak of a stressed floorboard beneath, and the roaring questions whirling around in my mind. Two floors up and several hallways tastefully decorated in neutral tones and Silvaris colours, with darkwood floors, silver ornaments, and flame lit fixtures across.

Suddenly, my nose throbbed as it collided with Oberon’s back. We were outside our bedrooms, situated opposite each other at the end of a particularly lengthy corridor, and he looked at me and sighed.

“Goodnight sis.” He gave me a half smile and turned to his room. “Get straight to bed, okay.”

“Oberon, wait.” He stopped, glancing back at me, kindness and brotherly love evident throughout his sharp features, but I could still sense his concern. Reading emotions was a peculiar talent of mine—one which I sometimes wished I did not possess.

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet, slowly letting out my shaky breath. I want him to tell me, offer the information; what is going on? But when he says nothing, I knew that if I wanted to know anything, I was going to have to ask. So, I did.

“What… happened tonight?”

Oberon looked at me, sympathy filling his eyes. He didn’t need my talent to know that I was confused, scared—it was written all over my face. “I think mother should go over that with you, sis. She can explain to you better than I can.” Before I could argue, his giant hand cupped my shoulder. “But you haven’t done anything wrong okay, kid, there is nothing to worry about.”

“But Papa—”

“You know how he can get when he worries, he’ll be fine in the morning. Don’t stress about it, okay?” he said raising his brows, his face studying mine. “Come on now, it’s late and you need to get into bed. Mum said she’ll be along soon.”

A deep sigh.

Oberon hugged me quickly and placed a peck at the crown of my head. “Good, goodnight, sis,” he said, the corners of his mouth tugging into a soft smile. With that, Oberon turned into his room for the night, and I did the same.

Stopping at the edge of my bed, I threw my arms out wide and fell face first onto my bedding. Three long exhales into my duvet and I could face the world again. I kicked off my sparkly lilac pumps and shimmied out of my dress and into nightclothes before bouncing back on to my too big bed. Once I settled, my eyes found the shoes again, and my mind drifted to the boy who had gifted them to me.

Rhett.

Moon Mother above, what I’d give to speak to him right now, to tell him of the night’s events, to let him make everything better. Words silently spoken during a hug from a best friend can settle a soul like no other; who needs therapy when magic like that exists? I know Mama said I could just tell him tomorrow, but I needed that therapy now.

Telepathy was a gift shared by shifters of all kinds, but it was weak at my age—isolated purely to those closest to me and heavily restricted by distance… it wouldn’t stop me trying though.

I closed my eyes softly and summoned his image to the front of my mind; a mop of richly pigmented brown hair that flopped down his forehead, finishing just above thick brow and emerald eyes. Tan skin and the dimple that puckered his right cheek when he smiled his slightly lopsided smile—oh, Moon, that dimple… So he was handsome, I supposed. Of course he was, but anyone could appreciate that. Mayli certainly did.

I huffed out my distractive thoughts. Focus. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, I summoned him again. Tall… manufactured with lean, chorded muscle from head to—

Argh! What was wrong with me!?

Stupid—it was a stupid idea anyway. I could never reach him from here, the courtyard between the Alpha and Beta houses was some fifty paces wide, and I hadn’t yet shifted. Most first shifts happen somewhere between sixteen and eighteen, so I likely still had at least two years to wait.

Why break tradition; another sigh. Waiting it is.

It wasn’t long before light footsteps approached down my hallway corridor and the floorboard five paces from my room creaked predictably, telling me that she would be knocking on my door in five, four, three, two… one—

A light rap preceded her the bedroom door opening and Mama’s beautiful head appearing around it, smiling warmly when she found me awake and waiting for her.

“Hi sweetheart,” she said as she came and rested next to me. The mattress dipped and I rolled over into the comfort of my mother’s arms.

“Am I in trouble, Mama?” My voice was muffled by her chest where I pressed my face into it. She was still wearing her blue dress; I inhaled her light, floral perfume deeply, my body filling with the feeling of comfort. Exhaling, I relaxed into her further.

She smoothed my hair gently. “Oh, my darling girl. No, you’re not in trouble.”

“Who was that man?” I asked, turning my head back so I could look up at her face. I didn’t want to miss a thing, though I sensed her mood shift. Mama exhaled gently, her eyes surveyed the ceiling, clearly choosing her next words carefully, as she always did as Luna.

“That man...” She stalled, took a deep breath, then emptied her lungs heavily through her nose. “You know Lupaelia’s history, understand our heritage, right sweetheart?” she asked. I nodded, but a little too slowly. She saw through the lie. As a High Alpha heir, I should be knowledgeable of our histories… and I was, to a point. But it had been a good while since I’d studied the Great War and the six Lycan Lords.

“We are descendants of the last Lycan Lords, blessed by the Moon Mother herself for their bravery during the Great War with the gift to separate their wolf and human sides into separate forms.

“All wolf shifters are descendants of the last Lycan Lords, but as we repopulated after the Great War, our genes diluted over time.” I nodded in understanding. “Our line, or rather your father’s and, as a result, yours and your brothers’, retained pure Lycan genes—you didn’t dilute. You are not Lycan, but you are the direct descendants of the Lycan Lord named Silvaris, the closest thing to his heir, a living relic. Which is why you are much more powerful than other lupens.

“Rubris was a second Lycan Lord, and Diablo and his sons are your equivalent in their bloodline. He is to The Southlands what your father is to The Northlands, and they are High Alpha’s by birthright.”

“So... that family are stronger, like us?” Papa was so strong—so, so strong. The thought of Diablo or any of his sons being able to do what my father could sent a shiver down my arms.

“Well, having imperial blood does mean that we are more powerful than others, yes, but, in this family and in this pack, we do not look down on others, no matter their bloodline or rank, do we?” She asked.

“That’s right, Mama,” I said, earning myself a serene smile. She inhaled deeply through her nose before speaking again.

“Because of their bloodline, the Rubris family believe themselves to be superior.” If she had been capable of such an expression, I might have said my mother sneered. “They believe their blood not only gives them authority to rule, but also a divine right over every living being in Lupaelia.”

I gawped at her words. “Over… everyone?” Surely not. It was madness, to think one being could rule over shifters and humans alike.

“Yes darling, everyone except other imperial bloodlines, like ours, and who we preside over.”

“He’s nothing like Papa,” I said, my voice low as I thought back to the smelly, lecherous male.

“No, he’s not one bit like your father. His son Eron is the Alpha of Pac Vaellae des lei Maertos in the Southern tongue, or Death Valley Pack in the Common tongue, his son Luis is Alpha of Pac Caelosi des Braesa, or Ember Skies Pack, and Salvador reigns over Pac des Gaerrai Raepydas, or Fast Claw Pack. Together, they hold dominion over all packs in The South. But, for them, it’s not enough,” Mama said, a grave look on her face. “They want to rule over all living beings, and they hate that your father doesn’t want the same.”

It all clicked into place. I finally understood. And my stomach tumbled, twisting with my innards. I sat bolt upright, knew the horror would be plastered over my face. “Is that why they wanted to… to buy me?” Disbelief—pure disbelief.

Mama sighed again; her brow furrowed sympathetically. “A long time ago, our ancestors would gift their daughters to selected strong lupens and give them lands to rule over as Luna and Alpha. It meant that as our populations grew, lands could expand whilst the bloodline still held some dominion over them, so these secondary packs remained loyal to their imperial.”

“Like Copper Casim Pack and Mountain Ash Pack? Redwood Forest and Black Claw too?”

Mama nodded. “Exactly. We don’t enforce our dominion, but we are fortunate to have many allies who are loyal to us regardless. Diablo Rubris asked tonight that we gift your mateship to his grandson, and in return he would gift his granddaughters to Orion,” Mama said shortly, clearly aggrieved by the mere suggestion.

“But Papa would never do that!” I started, sitting bolt upright.

Would he?

“No darling he wouldn’t, which is why he got so angry tonight. Diablo Rubris is not a good man, and your mateship is your own.”

My mateship. I hadn’t given it a thought before tonight, and I didn’t really care to think about it much. Who? Who would I even give it to?

There was only one person I would even consider… only one boy I could put up with. But we were friends. Best friends, even. Maybe. I put him side by side with Nilo and shudder. The very thought of being forced into a mateship with a Rubris….

“Now, you need to get some sleep, it has been a trying evening,” Mama said, interrupting my thoughts.

I gave her a tight hug, which she returned as always. “Yes Mama, I love you.”

She left with graceful steps. “I love you too, sweetheart. Good night, watch the bed bugs don’t bite!” She jested, and I giggled as the door clicked closed behind her, the smile lingering on my face.

I finally felt the crushing anxiety lift from my chest. My mind stopped whirring and I quickly drifted off into a deep sleep.