BOUND TO A CURSED KING

Chapter Two - Broken Beyond Repair.

Lyra awoke with a sharp pain in her chest, her body hard and unsteady. She slowly opened her eyes and attempted to see, but then she suddenly jolted to the realization that she was not entirely human. Her hands, which were partly clawed, were trembling with disbelief. Fur and long limbs and eyes with amber in them were seen in her mirror, which was the polished floor of her room. She made a gasp, her wolf whimpering, a weak and strained moan, in her.

You are awake, Lyra, said a healer, and came on cautiously. He was a mature man and his white hair was tied behind with eyes gentle but worried. “It’s a delicate state you’re in. Your wolf… it’s damaged. Severely. It is holding you in between forms. Your wolf is extremely weak Lyra.”

Lyra’s throat tightened. Enclosed?--asked she, with a shiver. “You mean… I can’t shift back? You mean I can not transform back into a wolf? You mean my wolf is gone? Dying? I am about to turn into a wolfless girl?”

The healer shook his head. “Not yet. Your wolf is broken. Part of it, part of it perished last night in the ceremony. We can make you steady, bring you back to human shape, but you will not be as strong as you were, nor so changeable, as you were, until your wolf is healed up. And that will only be possible when you get a mate that loves and cherishes you. then your wolf will rise quite up again. Only the bond and love of a true mate can heal you.

His words churned her stomach. A mate? After what Isaac had done? Would anybody ever love her enough? Was there any way that someone could restore the aspect of her that she had lost permanently? Was there anyone out there that was fated to be her mate? Was there anyone out there who would love her even though her wolf was growing weak and dying? Was there anyone who would love her enough to bring back to life her dying wolf?

The magician came in with a tray of medicines. It will assist in the change, he said, voice soft. It will not cure your wolf completely, but will enable you to be a man. Drink it slowly.”

Lyra did, and she put the little vial to her lips. It was bitter liquid, and it burnt her down the throat. She fell on the bed shaking violently with the writhing of her body. She had a pain running through her muscles, her bones seemed to be stretching and a weak howl came out of her mouth. The transformation became slower after an apparently endless time. With a shudder of the body, she at last, with a great effort, reverted completely to her human shape, and opened her wide silver-flecked eyes with exhaustion.

You will be able to work again as a human being, the healer said, and his hand touched her lightly. But do not forget... your wolf is still tender. You will be a human being and a weak one until a real mate awakens it. Do not attempt to force it. Do not… shift prematurely.”

Lyra choked, and the tears stung her eyes. She nodded her head, and put her hand to her breast where her wolf had so fiercely beaten. She still felt a hollow ache, which reminded her of what she lost.

The silence of the room was interrupted by a sudden appeal: a sharp, authoritative voice proclaiming an order new. The maids of Crescent Ridge Pack are all to appear at the palace of the Alpha at once.

Lyra bristled, and her heart sank. She understood what that was--she would have to see Isaac again. She was not ready after the rejection, after the humiliation. Not today. Not ever.

“No,” she whispered to herself. “I can’t. I won’t.” She lowered herself onto the bed, and embraced her knees as though her body were protecting her against the world.

Hours of stiff silence elapsed, and the shadows swept through her room with the setting sun. Then followed a second call, more urgent and loud. This time it was a personal order: Lyra Hale should appear at the palace at once.

Her stomach twisted. This was no suggestion, it was a command. She moaned, massaging her temples, and at last was compelled to get up. Her legs were trembling, her body still exhausted, yet she tugged at a plain dress, dark and inconspicuous, so as to pass as much as possible.

The avenues approaching the palace were long and inexcusable. With every stride to the gates, every breath was heavier than the one before it, every breath full of dread. Her head was low and she did not meet the inquisitive looks of the people she passed whispering. Her wolf awoke a little in her, and felt something dangerous, but it was feeble and noiseless.

As she got to the gates of the palace, there were guards on both sides of the gate, and they were alert. One of them came forward, and glancing at the order scroll bowed slightly. Lyra Hale, the Alpha orders you around. Follow us.”

She obeyed without haste, heart pounding, till she came to the throne room. The huge doors swung open with a creaking boom, and Isaac appeared, with an expression that could not be read, but was hard and penetrating, and his golden-brown eyes gleamed into hers.

You did not appear when everyone was called, coldly said, voice reverberating in the great hall.

“I… I was weary, said Lyra, and dropped her eyes. “I needed rest.”

It is the law, said he, and the law is the law. When to obey it, you do not choose.

Her hands were clenched on her sides. I, I know, she said to herself, but anger and fear struggled within her. I regret that I did not appear when all maidens were called, forgive me my alpha. She claimed that even the words were spiced with sarcasm.

She was led further into the hall without a word more. The floor was that of the floor below, perfectly polished, and was a mirror of the magnificence of the palace. She was escorted by guards in every direction, and the sound of her footsteps reverberated in the cavernous depths.

There was a group of maidens at the far end of the hall, some of them whispering with nervousness, others gazing in awe. And in the center, and more imposing than all the rest, was the Lycan King. Power was in his presence, a silent authority that caused her to feel weak in spite of her.

She came nearer and an elder was walking behind her, and the robes were floating softly along the floor. He paused right behind her and looked at the crowd that was present. His voice was sharp and authoritative:

“She is here.”