First Blood

MOON

"Why do people hate me?" Seven-year-old Zina, led by her adoptive mother, had asked the woman. It was because she knew it, that people sneered whenever she passed them. It was because she felt it; the hateful stares they fixed her.

Her mother sighed, "it is because you're without a wolf."

Zina knew that much, but she didn't understand why it would warrant such utter disgust from others. She didn't kill anyone, nor has she ever harmed anyone…she was simply born that way. Blind, and an Aberrant. 

She supposed herself was the most despicable. Born with more than one deformity.

Her mother, noticing her frown, explained harshly. "There are two ways to become an Aberrant. Either you're born one, or you're turned into one by the Deformed."

Zina shivered on hearing the word 'Deformed.' Monsters that lurked in the nightmare of every child.

"People hate you so much because an Aberrant can't bow to an Alpha and doesn't feel the bond of the pack. In comparison to a rogue, Aberrants are probably just a point better."

Tears stung Zina's eyes as she was compared to a rogue. A rogue of all people?!

"You're blind, and you're an Aberrant. Two things that our people absolutely detest. For this reason, Zina, you must understand that it is you against the world! No one will ever take your side, not when they hate you so much."

The tears fell freely, and Zina's heart twisted inside of her. There was a pain there, as if her heart was breaking into physical pieces.

She tightened her hold on the woman's hand, smiling up to her. "Except for the WolfKnight's, right?"

The woman smiled tightly, "indeed. Our pack would never abandon you."

Delusion, Zina lived in Delusion her whole life. And right then and there as the Alpha King stepped into the room, as everyone's wolf quivered in subservience and absolute adoration of the man with power… Zina felt nothing.

Like a blank canvas.

She read the room alright, but she didn't feel a thing.

Daemon kept staring at the white girl from the pavilion where he sat across from her. She was a seer? He guessed there was no age qualification to become one but that fact still stunned him.

Sitting in the midst of two older seers, the girl looked like she would be easily squashed among their presence. Still, she somehow managed to outshine all of them in a way that was breathtakingly dangerous. And yet again, she was clutching to her wooden-like staff like it was her lifeline.

Shadow's report was correct. At least to an extent. His father had invited the Seers to his birthday banquet, and the rest of his honoured guests stared at the three women with suspicion and curiosity.

Who were they? And what was their purpose?

When the Alpha King finally took his seat, everyone sat and the banquet celebrations began. Daemon who was sitting by the left of his father amongst his six legitimate brothers stared at the man who had sired him.

His father was capable of a lot of brutality, he knew that much. Despite the haughty titles, Alpha Xavier's Arctic Wolf was known as a patient striker, and it would seem as though the man's patience had waned off. 

Eliminating a son he had no affection left for was not something he was incapable of. But would he do it? Would he believe some lies over the testimony of his only son that was born of his fated mate?

He would, Daemon knew it.

He looked sick, so maybe indeed he had been poisoned. But Daemon, after being ostracised by his father ever since his mother, the Luna Queen, passed away no longer knew of the affairs of his father. And honestly, he had come to appreciate their relationship like that.

Everyone stared at the Alpha King expectantly as the dinning and the drinking went on. Celebrations such as the King's birthday were usually characterised by eating and heavy drinking. A game of which werewolf would best hold their liquor.

The King drank and drank. Not saying a single word. Occasionally, he took a precursory glance at his legitimate children that sat by his left, and the four Alphas by his right. His first three legitimate children were born of the King's first love who was not his mate by any account. The first son was inept, the second a drunk, and the third a horrible gambler. No matter how he tried to look at it, he didn't believe they were capable of taking his life.

But his fourth, Daemon, was an entirely different matter. Just like his mother, the King's fated mate, Daemon's thoughts were hidden behind shadowed eyes, his intelligence carefully tucked in wraps. He appeared playful, even gentle, but the king was no fool.

He knew an intelligent person when he saw one, and Daemon was shrewd. Just like his damn mother!

His last three legitimate sons were not even worthy to be spared his thoughts just like his illegitimate sons. One was twenty, the other eighteen, and the last fourteen… what could they possibly amount to?

"Bring him in!" the king billowed, bringing the chatterings to a halt. Startled by the king's command, every eye turned to the door, waiting for who it was that would be revealed.

The doors opened, and Moorim, the king's closest advisor and the Beta to the NorthSteed pack ventured in. Behind him, an Epsilon dragged something… or was it someone.

The Alpha King stood, staggering while at it. His skin colour had a strange hue to it, and a cold sweat broke over his skin. Despite his very sick state, his black eyes morphed into a deep golden hue that had the Omega servants staggering under the potency of the raw power he emitted. 

"For years," his thunderous voice billowed as the thing being dragged was dumped to the ground. It moved, revealing that it was indeed a living thing. "The rogues have tormented us, waging war against us! They see us as vermin, when in truth, it is them that do not deserve to exist!"

The crowd billowed their agreement with his words with a brief shout. "Hundred years ago," The Alpha King continued, gazing at each and everyone in the room. "The five regions decided to stop the killing and massacre of rogues by suggesting the Hunt Operation where rogues have the opportunity to join packs as respectable members of the werewolf community… but they have refused our goodwill!" he shouted, raising a piece of cloth scrunched in his hands.

Zina, for the second time became terse as cold sweat dripped down her neck. What was going on? What was happening? 

Moorim stepped forward collecting the piece of cloth and spreading it out. Gasps of outrage filled the room, as everyone growled in the language they understood.

Zina, incapable of seeing what it was, strained her hearing.

"The rogues have united and have thus raised a flag against us!" 

Zina gasped, clutching at her staff tighter as the blood supply in her palm was cut off. 

"Horrible people," the middle aged woman by her right sneered.

"They are courting death." The old woman by her left rasped in an airy voice.

"As you can see now, I am no longer the same." the Alpha King continued, "do you not wish to know why?"

The room fell silent, as no one dared to predict a thing about his health. He laughed maniacally, well aware that they could see his very pitiable state.

"Well I shall sate your curiosity! The Arising Rogues as they have called themselves have made a move on my life! They wish to take down the great Arctic Wolf that rules the North with one of my sons!"

Zina froze entirely as the chatter about her erupted into a commotion like no other. Her heart started racing, and for the first time, she really had to rethink her mission. Could she tell this lie? Must she tell this lie?

It no longer seemed like a simple lie if ever it did look like one, it was a dangerous lie. A treasonous one.

In a swift motion way too fast for the eyes, the Alpha King swiped his claw at the neck of the rogue wolf that lay captured, and his blood spluttered like a fountain, painting the pristine gold room red.

"The first blood has been drawn," He growled, "and now, the second blood shall be drawn!"