Blood and Fury
1865 Words
BRISEIS
The gardens were starting to feel like mine.
It was the only part of this stone fortress where I could truly breathe. Maybe it was the open sky, or the way the air carried whispers of herbs and crushed leaves instead of judgment. Maybe it was because no one looked at me like I was a ghost here.
Or maybe it was because of Lyra.
She was skipping ahead of me, humming something under her breath as she twirled around a bench, her golden hair catching the sunlight like spun honey.
“I think roses are too dramatic,” she said suddenly, stopping by a wild bush of crimson blooms. “Papa likes the white ones. But I like the pinks.”
She plucked one, careful of the thorns, and tucked it behind her ear. “What do you think?”
I smiled, letting my shoulders drop just a little. “I think you look like a wild fae princess.”
“Good,” she grinned, “because that’s what I was going for.”
She skipped off again, chasing a butterfly with one ribbon trailing behind her.
I slowed my steps, trailing a hand over the low hedges.
It was peaceful here.
I hadn’t had peace in years.
Every moment of safety felt temporary. Borrowed. Like something that could be snatched away the moment I started to believe it was real.
I looked up, letting the sunlight warm my cheeks.
Maybe this stillness was real.
Maybe I was finally allowed to have something that didn’t come with pain.
A faint rustle behind me made me turn my head.
Just the guards.
Two of them.
One I recognized, Merek, quiet and calm, the one who’d taught Lyra how to shoot with a slingshot.
The other… I didn’t know.
He was younger than most of the guards I’d seen. Shorter. Pale eyes like frost. He didn’t return my glance.
His eyes were on Lyra.
But not in the way they should have been.
A sharp warning shot down my spine.
“Lyra,” I called, voice firmer than I intended. “Come back here, please.”
She pouted, mid-chase. “But I almost caught it—”
“Now.”
She frowned but obeyed, dragging her feet.
I moved toward her.
Something felt off.
Something felt...
Wrong.
Too late, I heard the shift of boots on stone.
Too late, I turned.
The pale-eyed guard moved faster than any normal wolf should have. Blade drawn not ceremonial, but jagged, thin, designed for close, quiet kills.
Time didn’t slow.
It broke.
I had one instinct.
I threw myself between Lyra and the blade.
The knife buried itself into my side with a sickening, wet sound.
I didn’t scream.
I couldn’t.
Air left my lungs in a rush. Heat exploded through my ribs. Blood, warm and fast, soaked through my tunic almost instantly.
The second guard tackled the traitor, snarling. But the damage was done.
My legs buckled. I dropped to my knees, gasping.
Lyra screamed.
The world tilted sideways.
I felt her tiny hands trying to hold me up, shaking, trembling.
“Help! Somebody help her! Papa!”
I clutched the wound, but my hand slipped in blood. My blood.
I tried to breathe.
I couldn’t.
My vision went dark around the edges.
Inside me, my wolf screamed, furious, wild, ready.
But something held her back. Fear. Trauma. Instinct.
The last thing I saw was Lyra’s tear-streaked face as she screamed my name again and again.
Then,
Blackness.
---
ORION
The moment it happened, I knew.
Pain tore through my ribs not mine, hers. A burning, agonizing pulse through the bond. I stumbled, knocking over a table, gasping like something had just ripped through my chest.
“Briseis.”
Thane stood up from across the war room. “What is it?”
But I was already moving.
I didn’t shift.
I didn’t need to.
My body obeyed something older than thought.
I tore through the stone halls, ignoring the stunned warriors calling after me, ignoring the guards scrambling to follow.
My wolf surged so hard inside me that my bones ached, but I kept running.
And then I heard it,
Lyra’s scream.
High. Broken.
“Papa! Papa, please!”
The sound gutted me.
I rounded the final corner into the eastern gardens—and the sight stopped my heart.
Blood.
On the stones.
Briseis lay crumpled in the centre of it, Lyra sobbing over her, her tiny hands stained red.
Merek was holding the body of the attacker down, a dagger still embedded in the traitor’s spine.
I didn’t see anything else.
I dropped to my knees beside her, gathering her body up so cold, so limp, so still.
“Briseis,” I breathed, brushing the blood from her cheek. “Stay with me.”
Her eyes fluttered.
Barely.
Blood soaked my clothes. Her blood. My hands.
She’d been stabbed.
Protecting my daughter.
The truth of that shattered me.
I looked at Merek. “Who?”
He shoved the twitching body toward me. “He was placed on the inside. New name. Clean record. Someone covered for him.”
The traitor’s eyes opened, glasslike, wide.
“Witch,” he hissed. “She’s a curse on the throne. A mark on the pack. She doesn’t belong...”
I didn’t let him finish.
One strike.
Claws through his throat.
He gurgled once. Dropped.
Dead.
Gasps from the guards.
But no one moved.
I turned, blood still dripping from my claws, eyes glowing bright gold.
“My mate was attacked in my home,” I said quietly. “The one who did it is dead.”
“If there are others, anyone who knew, anyone who looked the other way, I will find them. I will break their bones. I will burn their names from the bloodline.”
No one answered.
I stood, cradling her in my arms.
“Take Lyra,” I said to Merek. “To the healer’s wing. Do not let her out of your sight.”
He nodded quickly, lifting Lyra, who fought to stay beside me.
“Papa no! No, I want to stay with her!”
“She’s going to be okay,” I said gently, even though I didn’t know if it was true. “I promise. Go with Merek.”
Tears streamed down her face as she clung to his shoulder.
And I...
I carried Briseis to my chambers.
Where no one would touch her again.
Where I would watch over her myself.
Even if it meant burning the kingdom to ash.
.....
BRISEIS
Waking was slow.
Like rising from beneath a frozen lake.
The pain came first.
Dull. Throbbing. Then sharp. A pressure at my ribs that stole my breath, my thoughts, everything.
My fingers twitched against something soft.
A mattress?
The scent that filled my lungs wasn’t antiseptic like the healer’s ward.
It was pine. Smoke. Iron.
Him.
I forced my eyes open.
Low golden light flickered in the room. The fireplace crackled softly across from me, casting shadows on the stone walls.
I blinked, breath catching in my throat.
I was in his chambers.
Blankets tucked tightly around me.
My side burned like fire beneath the bandages.
Then I saw him.
Orion.
Sitting beside the bed.
Still in bloodstained clothes.
Still wearing the look of a man who hadn’t moved in hours.
His eyes were locked on me.
And they broke when he realized I was awake.
“Briseis…” His voice cracked on my name.
I tried to sit up. Pain lanced through my ribs. I gasped.
“No, don’t,” he said immediately, leaning over me. His hands hovered, unsure where to touch without hurting me. “Just breathe. That’s all you need to do.”
I obeyed, even though every breath made the wound pulse.
“What… happened?” My voice was barely a whisper.
“You were stabbed.”
The memory returned in a blur.
Lyra. The blade. Blood.
Her screams.
I tensed. “Is she...?”
“She’s safe,” he said quickly. “Merek got to her. She’s with the healers. She keeps asking for you.”
My heart squeezed.
I nodded weakly.
“I killed him,” Orion said quietly.
I looked up.
“The wolf who touched you. Who tried to hurt her. He’s dead. I didn't let him beg. I didn’t give the pack a speech. I just... tore his throat out.”
He said it like a confession.
Like it mattered whether I thought it was right.
I swallowed. “Good.”
His eyes softened at that.
He sat back slightly, his jaw tight.
“You shouldn’t have been unguarded,” he muttered. “I should have vetted every single one of them myself. This shouldn’t have happened.”
I watched him.
The veins in his forearms stood out. His shoulders were tense. There were dark rings under his eyes like he hadn’t slept at all.
And in that moment, the fear in me quieted.
Because this wasn’t the Alpha King.
This wasn’t the terrifying warrior the realm feared.
This was just a man
One who almost lost the one thing he was finally starting to believe he could keep.
“Orion,” I said, reaching for his hand. My fingers were cold. His were burning.
He looked down at where I touched him like it physically hurt.
“I’m okay,” I whispered.
“You’re not.” His voice cracked again. “You almost died. I carried you in here and for a moment I thought...”
He shut his eyes tight.
I squeezed his hand.
He swallowed thickly, then leaned forward, resting his forehead against my hand on the blanket.
“I’ve led wolves into war,” he murmured. “Watched them die beside me. I’ve been stabbed. Beaten. Broken. But I’ve never felt fear like I felt when I saw you on that ground.”
Silence.
I could barely speak through the lump in my throat.
His voice dropped to a rasp. “You were willing to die to protect Lyra.”
“I didn’t think,” I whispered. “I just... moved.”
“That’s what terrifies me,” he said.
His lips brushed my knuckles before he pulled away just enough to look me in the eyes again.
“You’re not just mine, Briseis. You’re my centre. My blood feels different when you breathe. I don’t care if this bond came from the gods or the moon or fate, I choose you. Again. Every time.”
My heart cracked wide open.
Not because of pain.
But because I knew, deep in my soul, that I was no longer just surviving.
I was loved.
And I loved him.
Even if I wasn’t ready to say it yet.
Orion leaned in, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek.
His voice was softer than ever before.
“You’re not leaving this bed until you’re healed. And after that, you’re never walking alone again. I don’t care if the entire council tries to stand between us, I’ll burn the bloodline to protect you.”
He meant every word.
And gods help anyone who dared test him again.
- Writer
