Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 32263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
They all turn to me. All of them silent.
“How about on his future mate’s family?” I roar. “I doubt the Wolf King would be pleased to hear of his future mate being shoved to the ground by ruffians. Unhand her at once.”
The wolf shifter releases Isolde and steps back.
“And you,” I shout, pointing at the giant wolf pinning Othric to the ground. “Release him.”
To my utter surprise, the wolf backs away.
“King Alaric will get his women one way or the other,” the leader says, staring me down.
I stare him down right back.
“Then we will be treated like proper ladies,” I say, meeting his cruel eyes. “Royal ladies. That’s what we may be, so that’s how we shall be treated. Or, believe me, the Wolf King will hear about how his future mate and her family have been so cruelly handled.”
The wolf shifter’s hands squeeze into fists at his sides as he stares me down. His teeth are gritted. He looks furious.
I just glare back, shooting all that fury and fire right back at him.
“Very well,” he finally says, his voice dripping with contempt. “Torsten, fetch the wagon.”
A giant black wolf peels off from the group and sprints across the plains.
Minutes later, the wolf returns with a giant harness strapped around his body, and he’s pulling a large wagon behind him.
Isolde is still sobbing. Lyris too.
I catch Isolde’s eyes and let her know with a steely look and a firm nod that I’ll look after Lyris. I’ll look after all of these girls.
There are thirteen of us in total.
Thirteen who will be presented to the dreaded Wolf King.
And only one who will give him a piece of her pissed-off mind.
Me.
Chapter Four
Morwen
I’ve never been in a castle before.
And, boy, it’s a sight to see. The surrounding village, the guards, the wolves walking freely… I’m so amazed as I watch one incredible sight after another from the wagon that I forget to be scared.
We roll over the stone bridge under an arch that has a huge snarling wolf head carved on it and continue toward the giant castle.
It’s enormous. Several tall stone towers hover over gorgeous fountains and statues of past Wolf Kings everywhere you look.
I wonder if the castles of men are this grand. This imposing. This spectacular.
The courtyard of the castle reminds me of life in our village with the children running around playing. They look happy and normal, although some are in their wolf forms, which is a strange sight to see.
The males are larger than our human men and the women look just as tough as our best warriors. I pity the humans a century ago who had to run into battle against these beasts armed with only a bit of light armor and an iron sword. They must have died by the hundreds of thousands. Millions even.
I spot a young female shifter with her pup, smiling and laughing as the baby nibbles on her finger. It’s such a nice, tender moment that it makes me question everything I’ve heard about the wolves.
Since we were young, we humans heard all sorts of warnings and tall tales about the vicious wolf shifters… How they devour their own babies and battle constantly with each other. How they have nothing but hate and violence in their cruel hearts.
But as I watch them interacting, I see laughter and love and mischief and normal people wanting to get by, just like us humans.
Maybe we have more in common than the kings of this world want us to believe.
We roll up to the stone castle and head into one of the gigantic towers. They usher us off the wagon and lead us into a vast room—a room as large as a farm field. I look around in awe. I’m in disbelief that a room can be this large. You must be able to fit five thousand of my tiny cabins in here.
There are hundreds of human women waiting inside, some crying, some looking terrified, a few crowded together, huddling for security and warmth. All of them wishing for home.
“There’s hot food in that room over there,” the wolf shifter leader of our group says to us. We picked up several more women on our trip back, and to his credit, he treated each of us like royal ladies. Although I don’t know how much credit a kidnapper deserves. “Garderobes and water are available over there. I suggest you all get fed and make yourselves look presentable. The Vocatio Regia will commence after the king’s dinner.”
He nods at us and leaves, his men following close behind.
“Come,” I say, taking Lyris’ hand. “Let’s get some food. We’ll be able to better handle tonight’s event with a full belly.”
She doesn’t want to go, but I force her.
I know from experience—everything is always worse when you’re starving.
Almost all of the women try to make themselves look uglier. They mess up their hair, cover up their bodies, and one girl even smears animal grease all over her face.