Chapter Seven

I stood before Barsilla in a black fuzzy robe, having just bathed. My hair was wrapped in a towel and still damp. The piskie hovered in the air with her clipboard and organized gown and tiny shoes. She was almost always writing something, taking notes, etc. Though as small as the clipboard was, I wondered if I'd even be able to read it if I could steal the pages away from her.

Even if I could, I don't think I'd want to try it, I thought, remembering how the piskie had rendered me paralyzed on the ground with but a snap of her fingers.

"Are you ready for your first appearance at court?" Barsilla asked, which seemed silly because I was standing in a robe.

"I. . . haven't even picked out an outfit," I said.

"Why would you? Queen Varsella is taking you in as a wolf, remember? It doesn't matter what clothes you wear. I'm a little confused why you bothered to bathe at all," she said with a tone that let me know Barsilla thought she was more intelligent than me.

She was, of course, but the tone still grated a little.

I shrugged.

"I guess I expected that to come later," I said.

The piskie shook her head, causing the purple braid behind her to whip back and forth. She slid her tiny pencil into the clipboard and motioned with her free hand.

"So, chop-chop. Get furry," she said. "The queen is expecting you in about five minutes."

And here we were back at a dead end once more.

"Um, Barsilla. I can't transform on my own outside of the full moon. My mistress called the wolf forth last time," I said.

This stopped Varella's left-hand lady for a moment while she thought.

"She calls forth your wolf?" the piskie asked, narrowing her eyes.

I nodded.

"You truly have surrendered every part of yourself to her," she said, pulling the pencil out and taking notes again. "What did she do? Infuse her magic directly into your wolfheart?"

Thinking back to how easily I'd fallen for her trick playing two lies and one truth, I sighed. That was a lesson I needed to remember before going to court today at her side. Well, then again, was it? My inner wolf would be the one present today, not me. All she had to do was look fierce. I had no doubt she could accomplish that.

Keeping some discretion and letting Barsilla fill in the blanks for herself, I just said, "She. . . held my wolfheart in her very hands. If some magic slipped inside while she grasped it, there's not much I can do about that."

The piskie flew closer, near enough that I could smell her scent. Such a tiny thing, but her scent was bold and filled with apples and cinnamon. It would have made a great gum flavor, not that I would ever tell someone as terrifying as Barsilla that.

"You know what I think, young wolf? I think you enjoy giving yourself over to the queen. If I could put money on such a bet, I would. Sadly, the gambling hall hasn't opened up that particular wager for you yet," Barsilla said.

I blushed and sighed again. It was one thing for my mistress to tease me, but I didn't need the buzzing chippie over here giving me shit. And thankfully, before I smarted off, my mind ran off down a different path.

"Wait, you said people are making wagers on me?" I asked, cocking my head to the side a little. Werewolves and faeries aside, that was a truly ridiculous thing.

"Yes. Word spread fast that the queen had secured herself a new pet. Commonfolk and even some nobles are eager to place money on what you'll do first. There's big excitement. And with today being your first appearance at court, there's more money flowing into the gambling hall than there has been in quite some time," Barsilla said.

I crossed my arms, feeling a tad bit humiliated that people were placing bets on me, not that there was anything I could do about it. Part of me was angry I couldn't make money off these wagers myself.

If they're making money off me, I should get a cut, I thought. Not that I'd have much to do with money. As the queen's pet I get free food, room and board, clothes, and anything else I needed.

"What are the fae wagering on?" I asked, frowning.

"Simple stuff for now. What color your wolf coat will be today, how big your wolf form is, how long it'll take you to spill blood, and whether you'll obey the queen. Though I think we all know how that last one will turn out," Barsilla said.

My face heated further.

"You don't know shit, piskie! I'm a murderous werewolf. And for faeries to expect such easy control over my carnivore instincts is an opening for me to utterly humiliate them and their predictions," I growled.

The piskie didn't even flinch.

"Bitch, you and I both know the queen could whip you like a bath towel, sling you over her shoulders, and you'd thank her for the experience. Save the tough attitude for your appearance at court today. I'm not buying it. . . . because I already wagered all my money on your fur color."

Grinning and inflating with confidence, I said, "Good luck, pipsqueak. You haven't a chance in hell of guessing that. For all you know, I could transform into a plaid werewolf today."

Barsilla didn't seem amused by my bravado. I was starting to think she was immune to that sort of thing.

"First, plaid is a pattern. Not a color. Second, I already know your fur color is walnut," the piskie said, checking her notes.

She popped my ego like a balloon, and as I deflated before her, all I could ask was, "How did you know? You didn't see our display in the woods yesterday."

The piskie hovered down to my ear and said, "No, but Ceras saw it. And the two of us keep no secrets from one another."

I set the world record for sighing and sat down on the bed. Running my right hand down my cheek, I rolled my eyes. That fucking himbo talon. When I got my hands on them, I'd settle the wager for how quickly I'd shed blood here in the Raven Court.

"I'll have to go fetch the queen to call your wolf. We're running out of time," Barsilla said, flying toward the door.

"Hey, wait. What's the deal here? When we first met, you threatened to shrink me down to the size of a flea. You can do that, but you can't change me into my wolf form?" I asked.

She flashed me another annoyed look as though I'd just asked the dumbest question imaginable before responding.

"Shrinking you is child's play. But that wolfheart you possess is more potent magic than you know what to do with. Binding my energy to it and calling your beast forth isn't impossible. But I'm not stupid enough to think Queen Varella would allow anyone else to bind her pet. She guards you jealously," Barsilla said before opening the door with her magic and flying out.

While I pondered her words, remembering my mistress had told me as much last night, she returned with the Raven Queen. I stood, suddenly excited to see her.

Varella's crown was bolder for her appearance before the court, with thicker strands of silver and garnets intertwined along the sides of its ornate design.

My mistress wore a black feathery blouse crossed with several leather straps. Her skirt was a mixture of black ruffles, silver chains, and more dark feathers along the sides. From her pointed ears, ruby piercings dangled, three on each lobe. And holding all of this giant woman up? Black knee-length boots.

This was the queen of the Raven Court, ready to do business. And the first order of business my mind produced would be for her to step on me. . . repeatedly.

"Good morning, mistress," I said, bowing. I didn't lower my head solely for the sake of honoring my queen, though. I had ulterior motives.

"Good morning, my pet," the queen said, lifting my chin with her fingers until my gaze matched her own.

There it is, I thought, fighting a grin.

"Are you ready for your first appearance in my court?" she asked.

I nodded as well as I could with her fingers still under my chin. So much strength in those fingers. My mind started to ponder what would happen if they moved further down and— no. Couldn't go there. We were on a schedule this morning. But maybe later tonight. . ..

"Shall we call forth your inner wolf, my pet?"

"Yes, your grace," I said, closing my eyes. She moved her fingers down to my chest, right over the center of my wolfheart and just above my mounds. Placing her palm flat while I shivered from her cool touch, the queen spoke, her magic pulsing through my entire body.

And I did not hesitate to answer her call, moving aside so the caged canine could spring forth.

"Arise, wolf. Awaken and come to me now," the queen said.

Sighing and relinquishing control, I felt the queen step back a few paces but keep her hand pointed toward my wolfheart. Her magic pulsed stronger inside me, and the wolf stirred to its mistress' call, eager to be free once more.

A cloud of smoke billowed around me as I let the robe fall with my last act of control. My mind faded into the background as the ground rose to meet me. Thick walnut fur covered every last inch of me as I drew breath, not as Sierra, but as the werewolf inside her. More than 200 pounds of muscle and teeth stood before the queen, my new pack leader.

***

My mistress took a knee, and even then she was still taller than me. She looked deep into my reddish-brown eyes and said, "Your job today is to remain at my side and look fierce, little wolf. You're my pet, a ferocious beast I bring to court for my amusement and to strike fear into the hearts of all who look upon my throne. Are we clear?"

I placed my nose against the bottom of her chin and nibbled once or twice. She had my fealty. Her power was enough to slam me into the earth without breaking a sweat. Like it or not, the bird lady was now my pack leader. I took her orders just as the human girl inside me did, though perhaps with not as much excitement.

The queen patted my head three times and then stood, turning to go.

"When we enter court, remain on my left side," she said.

I let silence be my acknowledgment.

A few minutes later, we stood before two large brass doors covered in depictions of previous Raven Court monarchs who'd ruled through the ages. Their fierce power was on full display in magnificent craftsmanship, which was something the inner human girl would appreciate if she ever saw these chambers. Though it was my understanding she likely wouldn't.

"Announcing Queen Varella, ruler of the Raven Court at Featherstone, she who soars high above and wields the dark wind. And her new pet."

I sneered. Such a title I carried. The inner human had truly received a grand bargain.

That was our cue, it seemed, because my mistress carried forward, her boots echoing on a stone floor filled with precious stones and intricate designs. More faerie craftsmanship that left me uninterested.

The court was large enough to hold a large gathering, with benches and small tables lining the wings.

Faerie nobles in gowns and vests stood like statues and watched us closely with silent eyes and whispering lips.

"Oh my, she certainly is quite a large beast," one lady said.

"I heard she ensnared the werewolf with a wiley bargain in the human world," one man said.

Still another gossip added, "I wonder how well the beast responds to her commands? I wagered quite a bit of gold this morning."

The queen's entrance was nothing less than pure ownership of the room. She kept her sights set solely on the throne, a large stone chair, wide enough to seat three people. Or a Raven Queen and her pet werewolf. Emeralds decorated the chair, the back of which stood nine or 10 feet high.

Small caws filled the air around the chair as I witnessed multiple ravens perched on the seat's highest points, living birds that watched their queen and me approach.

A large stained-glass window depicting a dark-winged human wielding a terrible black sword let most of the morning light into the court. Though small torches hung on the walls here and there.

When the queen and I arrived at the chair, she said, "Up," and pointed at the seat. I wanted to stare at her until she heard the message, "Want me to roll over or play dead afterward?" But my pack leader gave an order, even if it could be construed as a trick. So I climbed into the seat, rotated around the stone three times, and sat, looking out of the court.

The queen then sat next to me and patted her lap twice.

Stifling another sigh, I lay down and placed my head on her lap.

"Give me a paw, too," she whispered, and I placed one next to my right ear.

"Good girl," she said, scratching the top of my head with the very claws she'd held over my throat and heart during our battle yesterday.

That was patronizing and relaxing, which just filled me with more agitation. I stilled my tail to keep it from twitching or wagging in any way. She would not receive the satisfaction. I was not the human girl inside of me.

"Let us begin today's court with a simple establishment of fact," the queen said, her voice filling the room effortlessly. "This werewolf is my new pet. She is not for any of you to touch. I will remove every finger from every hand that's placed on her by anyone foolish enough to try it. That's assuming she doesn't devour you first. She is here for my amusement as we commit to these mundane proceedings."

Some of the fae nobles nodded. I kept my head where it was, feeling their prying eyes upon me. They had more questions than I or the human girl inside me was willing to answer.

"With that understanding, let's move on to the first item on today's docket. I understand ships from the Red Court were sighted along our shoreline yesterday morning. Lady Gadella, you wish to petition for increased patrols outside of our home at Saltstone, is that right?"

A fae woman wearing a gray gown and short blonde hair stepped forward, bowing to the queen before answering.

"Yes, your grace. If it pleases you, I'll make my petition now for increased security in light of these ship sightings," she said.

"Continue," my mistress said before I zoned out. She continued to scratch my head while she heard this petition and the next. Two more men spoke. Then we took a break for lunch. I was rewarded for my demeanor with three roasted chickens. And after a quick bathroom break in the garden, it was back to the throne for more petitions. These nobles sure did love to talk.

When the outside light from the window behind us started to dim, indicating sunset, my mistress informed the court this next petition would be the last. And anyone who still needed her attention could see Barsilla to request time during the next day of court.

My legs were stiff and eager to run, so this man being the last petition of the day sounded pretty damn good to me.

He gave the smallest bow imaginable to our queen and stood equal to her height, that is, her height if she were standing. This man's red hair was buzzed, and his beard was braided. He wore shiny metal armor with a crest painted in the center. It depicted a screeching eagle.

"Lord Harroldsen. I understand you wish to speak on recently-levied taxes. This is an unusual request as that matter was settled a month ago. Why should my court again raise the issue?" my mistress said.

Everything about Lord Harroldsen spoke of defiance. He did not look pleased to be standing before the queen. His eyes were redder than mine, and he carried himself with a similar gait as another human I'd seen before. It stirred at the edge of my memory.

But what caught my attention about this man was his scent, a musk that further stirred a memory, one that belonged to the human girl inside me. His scent burned hot and smelled earthy and of eucalyptus.

Someone else I'd met before also carried a similar scent, and it just kept snowballing to familiarity.

"Your grace, I've come here today to ask you to rescind your recent tax increase. I do not find it a fair burden placed upon my house at Eagle's Loft," Lord Harroldsen said with a disdainful tone. He only used the honorific of "your grace" because he knew what would happen if he disrespected the queen. But he walked right up to the line and dared my mistress to address his position.

"Lord Harroldsen, I've seen reports of your silk trades and expenditures. This year, your yields are up 12 percent due in large part to favorable trade routes secured by my feathers. The hiring of additional feathers doesn't come without additional expense. So I levied a pitiable half-percent tax increase to pay for them. It is hardly a hardship you alone bear. The other houses do as well. Yet you stand here acting as though I've taxed your house alone," the queen said.

"Permission to speak more boldly then, your grace, to drive home my point," Lord Harroldsen said.

Now some nobles were starting to eye each other, and tension in the room spiked. My ears twitched as I lifted my head toward the fae lord.

"Speak freely," the queen said, with a warning in her tone.

"Your tax increase is unjust. I know your feathers do not benefit my trade routes alone. You were also petitioned by Lord Caldon for more guard presence at Graypoint. His needs drew the lion's share of your new feathers' attention. So I propose you weigh the tax increase according to which houses use your resources more," Lord Harroldsen said. "In short, I do not wish to fund the security of other houses at the expense of my own."

My mistress considered this and then shook her head.

"I heard this concern last month when we announced the tax increase. I gave my decision then. The financial toll of increased feather presence at Graypoint and other hotspots of the Raven Court is too great for any house to bear alone. To make it more equitable, I've spread the cost evenly to all. I will not further complicate my financial policies just to lower your tax expenditure. Your house is wealthy and can easily pay what I've asked," the queen said. "Speak no more of this. It is settled."

"It is far from settled!" he suddenly yelled. And right about that outburst, the memory snapped into place. Lord Harroldsen carried a similar scent, gait, and attitude to Sierra's father, the man I'd killed, whose heart I'd consumed for his years of abuse.

His tone was out of line for my mistress, who had already won his loyalty and the ability to command him decades ago, I figured.

"You go galavanting off into the human world to fetch yourself a little bitch after levying an unjust tax burden, while the rest of us are working hard to meet it. It's ignorant, and your father never acted in such a manner flagrant to his lords and vassals," the lord said.

"Hold your tongue before I do," the queen said.

That was enough. Lord Harroldsen spun and stormed out of the court. My mistress seemed to be weighing whether to make a show of punishing him for his inappropriate outburst. But while she decided, my ears twitched again. He was about 25 feet away when I heard him mutter, "Bitch is going to bleed me dry."

If my mistress heard, she gave no indication. But something inside me snapped. You do not disrespect your pack leader in such a manner! She was owed loyalty and his deference. If yelling at her didn't earn him punishment, his final sentence would. I'd see to it they would be his last words.

Leaping forward from the throne and baring my fangs, I darted after Lord Harroldsen with blinding speed. My ears listened for a command to halt from my mistress, but she spoke not. The man spun with his hand reaching for a dagger at his side, but he was too slow. The fae did not possess even a tenth of the speed my mistress did.

And when I reached him, he did not vanish into a pile of black feathers. My fangs found his throat, and I painted the stone floor with his blood. Lord Harroldsen didn't even have time to scream as I crushed his windpipe, a gasp caught in his throat.

I snapped my bloody muzzle to his chest, chewing at the straps of his armor so I could devour his heart. The cold bastard would digest inside me, and I'd shit him out in the woods. That was what he deserved for his show of disrespect today.

A talon approached me as I released one strap on the armor and set upon the other.

"Hey now, you got him. No need to make a bigger mess," a familiar voice said.

When they took a step and were within grabbing distance, I snarled spinning upon the familiar face of Ceras. They had their hands up, no blade drawn, and wore a pleading expression.

"You made your point. There's no need to spill even more blood while you dig around his chest cavity for a heart," they said.

I huffed. But I did not puff or blow their house down. There was something about this talon I respected. They wielded considerable strength but with perfect control. And they were basically a pack mate. So I did as they asked, stepping away from Lord Harroldsen's corpse.

Ceras produced a rag from behind their belt and wiped the pinkish blood from my jaws. Then they stood and faced our queen, bowing.

"I hope you won't have my fingers for wiping the blood from your pet, your grace," they said.

She seemed amused.

"Not at all, talon. As you were. Get some feathers in here to carry Lord Harroldsen to a wagon outside. I'll prepare orders to send the body back to Eagle's Loft," my mistress said. "Court is concluded today. Unless. . . anyone else would like to speak on taxes?"

No fae lord or lady stepped forward. Silence filled their expressions and the air around them.

"Very well then," she said, exiting the throne and walking toward the large doors we entered hours earlier.

The queen whistled for me, and I walked to her left side. The nobles weren't whispering this time.

When we returned to the bedroom where my inner human slept, the queen said, "Okay, beast. You served your role well today. But it's time for the human to return."

I sat on the floor and waited patiently as the queen's magic stirred within me once more, pulsing across every joint and muscle.

"Retreat, wolf. Sierra Chelsi, come forth, my pet. I call you now. Come to your mistress," the queen said.

My instincts faded as the human girl answered her call and ascended to control.

***

When the smoke cleared, I stood naked and shaking before the queen, the taste of blood still inside my mouth.

"You did well today, my pet. I wanted you to strike fear in the hearts of my nobles, and you did just that," she said.

Memories flashed into my head from the wolf inside. She'd killed. I shook harder.

"You're not mad?" I asked, searching her eyes for any signs of anger. My stomach dropped at the thought of her banishing me for spilling blood.

"I am not mad, my pet. I am pleased. Your wolf acted under my approval and judged Lord Harroldsen to death for his parting words," she said. "But your shaking tells me that your conscience is still fragile and unaccustomed to spilling blood."

I nodded, putting a robe on and rubbing my arms.

"When I killed my father, I shook for the entire next day, even though the asshole deserved what he got," I said.

My mistress wrapped me in her arms. And her body warmth certainly helped. But then she whispered something that tore my heart out.

"I'm afraid, my pet, I cannot stay with you this evening," she said.

"Please," I shook. "I don't want to be alone this afternoon."

The queen held me tighter.

"I know, but while I agree with your wolf's action today, there is still a matter of politics to play that even I am not immune to as queen. I must travel to Eagle's Loft to inform the new widow there she's just inherited the throne of her house," Varella said softly, stroking my hair.

Sighing and feeling my stomach plummet further, I sat back on the bed, shaking even more now. She was right. My heart was too delicate for the bloodshed of this faerie court, even with her blessing.

My skin felt cold and clammy. My balance was off, and I felt anxious, glancing around the room at nothing in particular.

"Do not worry, my pet. I know the delicate state you're in. I will hurry back and see you first thing tomorrow morning. And in the meantime, I'll send someone down to keep you company through the night," she said, walking over and stroking my cheek.

I shook my head.

"I don't want a stranger in the room with me tonight of all nights," I said, my heart beating faster.

As the queen looked me in the eyes, I found renewed calm entering my mind. Her presence did make everything better. And I really wished she didn't have to leave. Shit, I was the neediest pet, wasn't I?

"Relax, darling. She'll only be here to comfort you. It's something she's quite skilled in, having spent considerable time living amongst humans. She'll know exactly how to help you tonight. In my stead, she'll hold you, keep you warm, and stir the storm within your fragile human heart," my mistress said.

My inner wolf fetched another memory, and I squinted, processing it like some fuzzy VHS tape playing on an old black-and-white television.

"And when you return in the morning, will you remove this visitor's fingers for laying a hand on your pet?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and grinning.

"Your inner wolf shared that with you, did she?"

I nodded, feeling my grin fade. It just wasn't sustainable in my current shape.

The Raven Queen sat beside me on the bed and pulled me into leaning on her.

"Listen, my pet. Your entire life you've gone without knowing the joys of a pack. When other wolves mourn, when they are surrounded by darkness, they lean on their pack to share the burden. You were robbed of that. But the companion I will send to you for tonight will fill some of those gaps if you'll give her a chance. I'll bet that by the time I return in the morning, I'll find you snuggling her in your bed," my mistress said.

Sitting up, I raised an eyebrow.

"You're not expecting any elicit activities tonight, are you?" I asked.

The queen laughed, and that sound made me grin a little, even if my heart still felt like a ship searching for a safe harbor in a storm.

"You humans are always so quick to jump to sex. I never once implied this companion would come here to fuck you, my pet. I expect that, should you desire her continued company through the night, she would merely provide warmth to your shaking body as you slept. Surely you can snuggle another person without feeling the need to be intimate with them," my mistress said.

And she was right, of course. I had a few close enough friends growing up that, on a rare occasion I got to spend the night at their house on a weekend, we might share a bed if neither of us wanted to sleep on the floor. It didn't have to mean anything.

I was still a little apprehensive about this entire unknown companion situation.

"Trust me, my pet. When you see her, you'll understand. The very aura she exudes is one of comfort. That's her specialty," Varella said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I wished she could stay to comfort me tonight.

But I promised myself I would give this new person a chance.

"If it doesn't feel right, or I'm still nervous when I'm ready to sleep, I can ask her to leave, right?"

My mistress nodded.

"She will respect every boundary you establish, darling. Just as I would," she said.

I leaned into my mistress and sighed.

"I don't have any boundaries with you," I said.

She grinned and stroked my hair as I calmed down a little more.

"No, my pet. I suppose you don't."