*Rafe*
King Axel looks smaller than usual behind his desk, though I’m not sure why. His graying hair, long and thick despite its change in color, hangs loose around his shoulders. He leans back in his chair, listening to our reports, saying very little until we finish going over everything we’ve discovered while we were on our mission to collect data about the status of the wolf shifter villages.
“I feel the only way to get some of these territories back under control is through a culling,” Kris is saying. “Leadership in several of them told us just that. I saw such unruly behavior, such blatant disrespect for the crown.” He shakes his head, clearly still irritated with what went on in Beoutown.
“Disrespect for the crown?” King Axel doesn’t hesitate to speak up now. “In what way?”
“Well, in one town, an insipid girl called Prince Rafe all sorts of horrible names and nearly attacked him in the streets just for bumping into her.” Kris exaggerates the story, and I find myself growing irritate at him now.
King Axel’s brow furrows as he turns to me. “Is this true?”
I let out a sigh. “Not exactly.” Kris gasps in protest, but I ignore him. “It was a misunderstanding. We took care of it.”
Axel doesn’t seem to accept my response. “Did you punish her?”
“I set it straight.” He needs to trust my judgment. “It’s not a problem.”
The king’s eyes attempt to penetrate deeper through my exterior for a moment before he nods and says, “Very well. But do you feel that law enforcement has a handle on these people, or do we need to send troops? You did speak to the sheriff and the mayor, correct?’
I answer this time, wishing Kris would just keep his mouth shut. So far, Zeke has hardly said a word, as it should be. “We met with them.” That’s about all I have to say. All of the leaders in that territory seems untrustworthy to me, and while that’s true to some extent in every village we visited, Beotown is particularly troubling to me. “I think they have established their authority.” That much is true. Their people are too weak and fragile to cause an uprising. Starve them to death, and they can’t fight against anyone.
Including us.
But they also can’t fight for us against our enemies.
“What are the feeder numbers looking like these days? You mentioned a culling. Is it necessary?” The king steeples his fingers in front of his face, his eyes back on Kris, as if he is the expert on the matter. He’s not, but he’ll pretend to be.
“We could certainly use the boost. This village continues to turn in dwindling amounts of blood each day. If we had the feeders here, we could make sure they are producing.” Kris seems assured of what he’s saying, but he hasn’t answered the question.
So Zeke does. “I spoke to Jerim earlier today. He mentioned losing another feeder a few nights ago. While we still have adequate numbers to support the current population, we can’t grow significantly unless we take on more producers.”
Axel nods and lets out a breath. “Jerim is qualified for the job, I’m certain. But he’s so unlike Petra. I wonder if it’s him that is the problem or something else.”
I speak up quickly. Jerim and I have been friends for at least a hundred years. He’s been my personal physician for much of that and was only recently promoted to royal physician when the previous doctor, Petra, retired. “It’s not Jerim. He’s doing everything within his power to fix a situation that had gone downhill a bit.” Axel arches an eyebrow. He’s always been a huge supporter of Petra, so I have to tread lightly, but she had been in that position a long time, and the older she got, the more hands-off she became until the conditions were not ideal for any of the feeders, which was too bad because no one deserves to live in squalor.
“Very well. I will consider your suggestion of a culling, Prince Rafe.” Axel mentions the proposal as if it has been mine, which causes Kris to gasp a little, but he wisely bites his tongue. Correcting the king is never a good idea. “Give me a few days. There’s a full moon soon, yes?”
“That’s correct. In a little over a week,” I tell him. “I’m sure whatever you decide will be for the best.” I stand and bow to him, as do the others. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The king nods and then dismisses us with a wave of his hand. I lead the way to the hall where Zeke sarcastically declares, “Well, that went well.”
Kris grumbles. “Why do I never get credit for anything?”
Turning to look at him, I remind him, “It was Mayor Black who suggested the culling, Kris. You only leaped on board as if it were the only way to solve a problem. Sometimes there are less antiquated ways to fix things, rather than staying married to the way things were handled in the past.
“Antiquated?” Kris seems offended, and Zeke’s shoulders go back as if he is ready to defend me. It’s not necessary; I can stand up for myself. But I do appreciate it.
“It’s old-fashioned,” I remind him. “The practice has been around for thousands of years in various forms, though I don’t think anything has changed in the last couple of hundred. Releasing our prey out into the night, chasing them down, capturing them, and bringing them back to the castle to be imprisoned for the rest of their existence? It doesn’t sound like a very modern approach to a problem, if you ask me.”
“And yet you agreed to it.” Kris’s tone is beginning to annoy me, and Zeke looks like he’s about to grab him by the throat.
“Of course I did. It’s King Axel’s way of handling things. I’m not going to argue with the sovereign. Just know that things have a way of changing over time, particularly when there’s a new ruler on the throne.” I eye him carefully, making sure he is clear about what I am saying, and then continue down the hallway. I shall do whatever Axel suggests, but I do worry that, if there is a culling, the girl might be caught up in all of it. I’d hate to see her suffer, but I’m under the impression the leaders of her town are not fans of her family. I’m not sure why, but it was the vibe I’d gotten after the incident.
Kris stalks off in another direction, leaving Zeke and I to walk along together. “You know, I did some reading when I got back to the castle last night. After the war, the Alpha King of Longclaw was put to death. He only had one child, a son, and he went into hiding after being persecuted by everyone, even his own kind. The Blacks have only had power for a few generations, and I’m not sure they’re handling the situation well. They seem to be more tyrannical than necessary.”
I agree with his assessment, but I’m not sure what I can do about it. The area that used to be Longclaw is vast, with several hundred villages in it. Beoutown is just one of those villages. Most of the leaders in those communities came to power after the war, not before it, because the central leaders who were loyal to the Alpha King, who happened to live in Beoutown, were taken out of power. They were Alphas then, not mayors, and this Alpha King ruled over all of them. I was alive when all of this took place, living here in the castle, but I was sheltered from much of it because the king had me in training.
I’ve been preparing for the role I’m about to take on for over a hundred years, and yet I still feel ill prepared, which is illogical, but true. It’s likely because King Axel and I see things so differently from one another.
“But you know what the craziest part is?” Zeke asks me.
I’ve almost reached my chambers and am about done with any discussion at all, exhaustion having set in a long time ago. Vampires can still be tired and annoyed. But Zeke is important to me, so I ask, “What’s that?”
“The girl—”
He’s interrupted.
Jerim comes down the hallway. “There you are. I’m so glad you’re back. I need your help.” His brown eyes are glued to my face, desperation setting in around his jaw.
“Excuse me, Zeke,” I say. “Let’s finish this conversation later.” I truly want to hear what he has to say, considering it was about “the girl,” but I can tell Jerim needs to speak to me.
“Very well.” Zeke dismisses himself, and I settle in to listen to my other friend.
“We lost another one.” Jerim sighs in exasperation. “I can’t figure out what’s going on. This fellow was fine yesterday afternoon when I visited with him. This morning, he’s dead.” He shakes his head as his eyebrows knit together. “What the fuck am I doing wrong?”
“Nothing,” I’m sure of it. I place a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “How long had he been here?”
“A decade or so,” he says quickly. “The one we lost the other day was new. So it’s not just new people who haven’t acclimated appropriately. I don’t get it, Prince Rafe. We aren’t doing anything differently except for improving the conditions. I’ve made everything more sanitary, made sure they have plenty of light and fresh air, yet they keep dying on me.”
“Do you know the exact cause of death?” Jerim is an excellent physician. If anyone can find the answer, it’s him.
He nods. “Cardiac arrest, but the symptoms are all over the map as they lead up to that. It’s all very peculiar. I can’t understand it. And it’s just wolf shifters, none of the other species.”
That makes little sense to me, but I believe him. I wonder if everything is the same amongst the different species we keep here. The lycans and fae we have here are prisoners of war wheras the humans and shifters have been gathered in cullings. They’re kept in similar quarters, but they do not intermingle. What could be different from one area to the other?
“Let’s go have a look together.” I’m not a physician, but I can go observe the conditions the wolf shifters are being kept in and help him assess the situation for anything obvious. I wonder if there’s been any change of their diets. Jerim had mentioned to me that he was doing his best to make them healthier and happier, but I don’t know what they are eating and if it’s possible some of it could’ve had adverse effects.
We are headed to the area of the castle where the feeders live when a stealthy figure steps out in front of us. She says nothing, only leans against the wall, her large, doe-eyes roaming over me. Suddenly, I feel like a piece of meat.
“Riley.” I force a smile to my face as I acknowledge her.
“Rafe.” Her face cracks into a subtle smile. “Where are you off to today?” She doesn’t move, continuing to lay across the wall, like she is a display.
Perhaps it would be more accurate to say she’s on display. Her sparkly white gown is almost the same color as her alabaster skin, and her white-blonde hair is only a few shades closer to blonde. The top of her gown is cut so low her breasts practically spill from it, and the waist is so synched, I wonder how she can breathe.
“We are on our way to visit the feeders,” I explain politely.
Her nose wrinkles. “Why?”
I have no answer for that, not one that will be suitable for her, that is. If I try to explain that we want to see why so many of them have suddenly been dying, she’ll ask the same question again. It would never occur to her that I should care about whether or not people in their circumstances survive. Any other reply will be equally unappealing to her.
Rather than hazarding an attempt at answer, I say, “I’ll see you at dinner, Riley,” and then gesture for Jerim to continue.
The woman says nothing, but I continue to feel the weight of her eyes on me as I proceed down the hall with my friend.
Once we are out of earshot, he asks, “Are you going to do it?”
I know what he is referring to and answer with a shrug. “I’m not sure I’ll have much of a choice.”
“It’s not a condition, though, is it?” Jerim clarifies.
I shake my head. “No, not exactly, but he made it clear that he would like for me to fulfill his obligation to her.”
We are almost to the area of the building we’ve been headed to. I see the large iron door in front of us, and two guards stand there, looking fully attentive, as if no one could ever get through this door without their approval. That’s a good thing. The vampires in the castle know they aren’t allowed to bite these feeders; they must rely on the specialists who work here to properly collect the blood so that no one is accidentally turned. While some species cannot become vampires, even when our venom is injected into their bloodstreams, a few that are here can. And when a fae is turned, the result is a much deadlier creature than either of our species when not combined.
Jerim inhales slowly and then blows it out, and I know what he’s thinking. “It seems unfair. What does her sister get?”
“I don’t know, but as much as I like Sophia, I wouldn’t be any keener in accepting the situation if it were her.”
We walk through the doors, and Jerim says what we are both thinking. “Sophia is much more amicable.”
“I know.”
“All these years, waiting for their father to redeem himself, and he can only repay one for the horrible injustice, but he chooses the one who seems to mind the sin the least.” Jerim is an old soul, though he’s younger than me. He thinks deeply, that is for certain.
Again, I agree with him, but I’m not sure what to say, and I’d rather get on with the task at hand than discuss my possible future wife. “Being turned is never a pleasant experience, and most people would choose to avoid it. I’m not sure how I feel about it now, but if I could go back, I’m not sure I’d change anything,” I admit.
He nods. “I probably wouldn’t either, but then, I was turned by a wild newborn who stumbled upon me in the forest. Not the man who was meant to protect me most.”
“Yes, I understand the difference, Jerim.” It’s not a circumstance that escapes me. To potentially lose one’s soul, be doomed to an eternity of cold, seeking blood for survival, to be called a monster. And not at the hand of some stranger or an out of control creature in the woods. What Axel had done was unthinkable. How his children had ever forgiven him, I’m not sure. But both of his daughters seem to accept that he did it for a reason. He couldn’t bear to see them age and lose them. So he’d turned them himself.
Their own father.
And now, he wanted to make amends for his actions to one of them, by making her queen.
My queen.