4. THE SAND CASTLE

he Duke walked in with slow steps, his eyes down cast as he made his way inside the manor and headed for the stair case that would take him to his study. As he walked, he heard laughter ringing in the distance, laughter of his remaining sons and his Omega, followed by their rapid footsteps as the neared him.

“Daddy! Daddy daddy daddy look! I beat Demos in sword sparring!” Kiekie exclaimed with a giggle, rushing to the Alpha and sprinting to his older brother who walked with elegant strides alongside his mother. Behind them came Elias, the eldest of the three in all his handsome glory and wolf pride. The Duke stared at what Kiekie was showing him, but no hint of mirth crossed his face. His heart was still aching from the empty farewell that he had bid his son, the look of blankness in Stefanos face haunting him as he wondered what he had made his son- an empty shell.

“Honey, Kiekie is telling you something.” Sofia interrupted her husband’s melancholy thoughts, staring at him intently but the only reaction the Duke gave was to turn his stare at his eldest son Elias. Using his Alpha voice, he declared with authority, and yet the empty happiness he felt in those words was utterly visible.

“From this day on, I hereby declare Elias de Vesilios as the next in line to the Duke and future Alpha of our pack. The responsibilities lay in your hands now, Elias.”

A long strange silence befell the family as Michaels words sank in. No one knew what to say, no one knew whether he was merely jesting or was serious. He had said it all so suddenly, that neither of them had any idea what to make of it. Until Sofia decided to finally break the ice.

“T-the next in line...Duke? F-future....A-Alpha? Our Elias will be?2 Her eyes had grown as wide as saucers, but her husband made no move to repeat himself again. The look he gave her proved to her that she was right. Her surprised face suddenly turned to one of all the smiles as she begins laughing and clapping like a mad woman before engulphing her son Elias in a tight embrace, the latter being still under shock. She laughed so much that in time her sons had no other choice but to follow the lead as well, before she shooed them away and turned to her husband, who was already walking away to his study.

“But, but what about Stefanos? What did you do to him?” Sofia questioned as she hurriedly climbed the stairs, picking her skirt up and trying to keep up with the Alpha. The only reply the Alpha gave was four words. “I sent him away.”

This confused Sofia. “Sent him away? What do you mean you sent him away? What if he comes back again? And demands for my boy Elias place saying it was his? What if he tries something funny?2

“Like what? Trying to kill Elias? The way you tried to kill him?” Sofia flinched at the sudden rise in her husband’s voice as his eyes blazed with fury, turning hazel like the colour of his wolfs eyes. The aura around him was lethally dangerous and Sofia couldn’t help but cower away at her Alphas dominance, whimpering like a lost puppy. All the more because she was found out. Michael had known all along about her schemes. She was lucky she wasn’t dead yet.

The predatory Alpha stalked to her while growling, lowering himself to her height until their noses almost touched. He hissed his words straight on her face. “My son is where ever I want him to be and it does not concern you. You have what you wanted, Elias as the next Alpha. So you better sit in your seat and play the porcelain doll and conduct your own little gossiping tea parties about who dresses like whom and who is acquainted with whom. Should I find you doing any funny business like trying to find were Stefanos is to execute your murderous plan, I will have your head in a spike and display it to all the citizens that include your three sons. Do I make myself clear, Duchess Sofia?”

When Sofia made no attempt to reply with her heart running in a marathon, the Duke finally screamed into her face. ''DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!?''

''Yes A-Alpha.'' Sofia replied while flinching back, bowing her head down in submission and to avoid eye contact. With that, The Duke stormed away, knowing that Sofia wouldn’t try anything any time soon. Her life and that of her sons was on the line.

-------

Seventeen Years Later:

Stefanos:

The daisies in the garden were finally starting to show some real signs of life. It had been so long since they actually grew ever since that one thunder storm were all the Daisies and Tulips got washed away. The Tulips were back again not long after, but the Daisies, well, they were a handful. I had to change the saplings numerous times, until it finally started showing some form of life.

“Don’t you dare die on me again, understood?” I whispered to the baby plants with my Alpha voice, and as if they could hear me, the baby plants swished back and forth, and I swear I saw them growing an inch taller.

Once I was done watering them, I moved on to the next batch, which were a group of shrubs of Hibiscus. I continued watering my flowers, going from flower to flower until I had come to a stop before the pond that was a part of my huge garden. Without sparing a single glance to my reflection, I moved on, going to the next batch of flowers when I heard the loud flapping of wings beating in the wind. Looking upwards towards the blue sky, the soft morning sunshine catching on my adult face, I watched the large silhouette of Wraya my dragon companion getting closer to the tower, before he landed on the tip of it, his bat like wings folding behind him as he perched on top of the tower.

Deciding not to bother the Dragon, I continued with my watering, until he roared like a fool trying to draw unwanted attention, making me turn my undivided attention to him. From where he sat, Wraya looked down at me as if calling out to me. I grit my teeth in annoyance, my hands tightening over the watering pot. Wraya could be such a handful at times.

Before he can roar again, I dropped the watering pot and stormed inside my tower, watching as Wraya spread his wings and flew inside the large hall above the tower that was his chambers.

The higher I climbed, the angrier I got, because all the mirrors in the tower were suddenly not shrouded in canvas clothes anymore like they were supposed to be. When I reach the top most floor that is Wraya’s chambers, I watched in fury as the red dragon pulled out canvas after canvas with its huge mouth, revealing all the mirrors that were there, reflecting my own reflection back at me.

“Wraya? What do you think you are doing?” I hissed, a slow growl emitting from my throat that brought a much needed stop to Wraya’s actions. The dragon sighed dramatically, turning his attention back to me. “I'm cleaning away unwanted dust that you so like to keep around, sire. What’s the matter?”

“Put them back.” I replied without skipping a heartbeat, but Wraya had much more to tell with his booming voice. “There now sire, you mustn’t be too hard on yourself. It’s your birthday today! It’s alright to take a look!”

“Wraya, we talked about this! For the last fifteen years, I have been telling you the same thing and if it is so hard for you to understand then you might as well leave! Just like everyone else!”

“Stefanos—“

“I SAID NOT TO CALL ME THAT!”

I don’t know why I was getting so worked up, but let’s just say, this always happened in this day- my birthday to be specific.

Ever since the day my father disowned me, I had never found it in myself to look my face in the mirror. For I already knew what I looked like.

I was ugly.

I had a very long head with a pointed chin and a long droopy nose. My lips were of no colour and they were as thin as a line. My eyelids were hooded and it seemed like I always wanted to sleep even when that was not the case. I had permanent dark circles underneath my eyes that contrasted with my pale rough skin. Oh, and must I add the number of scars and blemishes I have? I was told by my good ole' step mother that I was a very disturbing baby when I was born. I cried so much that in time I begin clawing my own face out of anger. I don’t know how much of it the truth is.

A part of me died the day my father disowned me. I had thought that perhaps he would love me despite what my step mother said about me, that I wasn’t that ugly after all. But he leaving me only proved that I was ugly to no matter who I am with, and that I didn’t deserve to be loved. The world only loves what’s beautiful, and shuns what’s ugly.

I didn’t deserve love, and I hated myself for being such a burden to everyone.

I had lived in this tower that my father had left me in ever since. It was far away from the main land, situated in a village. For the first two years, I had lived all by myself, keeping every single mirror or anything that reflected back covered. Until one day, I found a baby dragon in my garden, all shrivelled and wounded. It was so small and fragile, that I had no other choice but to nurse it back to health, but I made sure that was all I did. I only cleaned his wounds and let him heal. I did not go any closer, for I knew that someday the baby's mother would come looking for him, and when she does, she wouldn’t like the scent of a wolf or a human in her baby. So I kept my distance.

But the mother never came. Months turned to years, until two years had passed, and the Dragon knew about nothing other than what was in the tower. He was really clingy no matter how much I tried to keep him away, but in time, I guess we both accepted the fact that the dragon had no one else. And that his mother wasn’t going to come for him. Judging by the fact that the dragon was injured when he found him, something must have happened for the mother to drop her baby here and fly away to her own doom. They must have been attacked, and the mother dragon must have died.

Shortly after I had come to this conclusion, the dragon had developed the ability to talk like a human and not just growl, whimper and roar. It was then that I learnt the truth of what really happened.

The dragon wasn’t wanted by his mother. She would often torture him, and one day, she went so far that she dropped him from the sky to his own death, were he landed in my garden. The mother never meant to come back for him, she probably things he is already dead.

This story of the dragon had revealed the hidden wounds I myself had in me. The wounds I had buried deep down and decided never to think about, suddenly were opened again and fresh blood poured out. My wolf cried for the dragon, for we both knew what the dragon must have felt. We were all abandoned by our own family at such a raw age, only for the reason that we were ugly and different.

Well, let’s just say, I decided to keep the dragon, naming him Wraya. Wraya had been ecstatic, for he never had a name and he believed if I had named him it meant I was his master. So Wraya decided to become my own valet, or a butler, or a servant, or a slave, you name it. He just decided to serve me from then on, and ever since then, Wraya has been my only companion in this world apart from my flowers. No one talks to me, and I talk to no one, for no one sees me, and I see no one.

But of course, I had a few rules applied. One of that was to never uncover the mirrors in the tower or anything that reflected back. Wraya knew about my story, but he didn’t like the idea of what I was doing. So every year, we had this same argument on my birthday, were Wraya would force me to take a look at myself just to show me how I was growing, but I declined.

The last thing I wanted was to look at my own horrid face.

Wraya stared at me as I breathed in and out heavily, before he lowered his huge head in obedience. “Yes sire.”

I walked out of there, not wanting to deal with any of this anymore. Just because Wraya knew my name doesn’t mean he has the right to call it. No one does. That is not my name. It never will be. Especially when it was chosen by that lady I once called a mother.

I will never be Stefanos de Vesilios again.

-Zohara