The Lost Heiress Of The Bleeding Throne

They always knocked twice-never once, never three times.

Just two crisp raps on the rusty old iron door that was corroding faster than I was.

I knew what the knock signified. It was breakfast time, and if I were fortunate today, it wouldn't be spat on.

If I was unfortunate, it'd come with a side of insults. Today felt like both.

"Hey, freak!" a familiar she-wolf's voice rang out through the open crack in the door.

"Your king has eaten. "It's your turn to eat the leftovers."

I didn't move at first. Not because I was stubborn-no, that I'd lost whatever spark I had long ago.

My muscles were too stiff, and the tingling in my bones was warm against the chill outside.

Finally, I struggled up from the ragged mat that passed for my bed.

Trisha stood half-naked-the only thing covered, her crotch.

She was Baron's latest entertainment for the night.

Her mouth was bruised from his kisses, her hair a chaotic mess, and in her hand was a tray that smelled of eggs, burnt toast, and something vaguely like pee.

Also, she reeked heavily of sex.

She grinned when she saw me. "Not dead yet? Huh. Shame."

I gave her a cold glare. Sometimes, I wished I wasn't mute so that I could speak up sometimes, but at this point, I'd embraced my permanent silence.

"God, you're creepy when you do that," she said, shivering and shoving the tray against my chest.

The eggs slid half onto the floor, but she didn't care.

"Oops," she said. "I guess that happened."

I ignored her and knelt to pick it up anyway. I always did.

If I didn't, I wouldn't have anything to eat. And I couldn't risk dying. Not yet.

"Tell me something," she burst out, tapping a finger against her chin.

"Do you ever cry, you know, like normal people? Or does your quiet ass not even know how?"

She laughed at her own joke, and I grabbed at my throat, not because of what she'd said-I'd long since stopped letting their jokes get to me-but because I couldn't quite remember when I'd last cried.

Or laughed. Or spoken. Or even lived.

She leaned forward, her voice deceptively gentle. "He told me you were very beautiful when he first got you.

"But I don't see it anymore," she muttered, stroking a hand down my cheek.

I looked at her again. Not with anger. I was just tired.

I had forgotten who I was a long time ago.

With platinum blonde locks that never seemed to shine again, bruised skin that went gray too readily, and gray, sunken eyes that at one time used to sparkle-when I was a child, when I still dared to imagine that someone might love me someday.

I wasn't ugly then. But I wasn't pretty enough to matter-not in the Moon Bliss Pack.

Not to Baron.

Least of all to Baron.

"Baron needs you," Trisha interrupted my thoughts suddenly, her lips twisting into a sly grin.

"He's... entertaining tonight. Told me to fetch you."

My stomach twisted into a knot. I knew what he wanted, and I refused to move.

She caught my wrist, grasping too tightly. "Come on, mute. Don't make me have to pull you again.

Last time, you made me lose a precious nail."

Her warning made me reluctantly follow. I had to. I always did.

The Beta's house was a yard away from the outhouse I slept in, but it might as well have been miles.

Wolves looked at me as I passed by. Some sneered, and most did not.

They were used to seeing the mute omega who wore shame as a second skin.

Trisha led me down the curving corridor, and the stench of sweat, alcohol, and lust was heavy in the air.

The deeper we went, the louder the sounds increased-grunts, moans, a bed's groan of protest from the force of the activities carried out on it.

The guards didn't stop us. They never did. I wasn't held prisoner here. I was property.

When Trisha pushed open the door, I knew what to expect. But still, I wasn't ready.

Baron was behind a woman, bare and moving inside her. Some other random she-wolf was under him.

Her blonde hair spilled across the sheets as he squeezed her breasts in his palm.

I turned my face away from the sight.

He rolled his head slowly when he saw me. "Ah. The mute has arrived."

The woman underneath him laughed. She glared at me like I was dirt and at that moment, I felt worse than dirt.

Baron didn't slow down. If anything, he picked up the pace and fucked them harder.

"This, Eleanor," he panted, thrusting between words, "this is what a true mate is. Responsive. Warm. Loud."

He groaned, his fingers digging into the other woman's legs. "Not you. Cold. Pathetic. Frigid like a little ghost."

I looked up at the wall above the bed.

"Don't look away!" he snarled, his voice cutting through the air.

"You can feel it can't you," he grunted. "Feel the pain as I fuck these whores? That bond between us, tearing at you.

"But you can't scream, can you?" He turned to face me fully then. "Dumb little mute."

He wasn't mistaken.

The mate bond blazed up within me like venom, shattering every nerve.

The pleasure he felt burned me.

Her pleasure screams scraped down my spine and I could feel the culmination of his orgasm, like a countdown to my own demise.

The worst thing was that I couldn't scream.

I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood. I clenched my fists until my nails were digging into my palms. I tried to avoid looking at him.

"I should've let them kill you when you were a girl," he growled afterward, gasping. Useless little burden.

The only reason I didn't... was because I wanted to know how long it'd take you to break."

He pulled away from the woman on the ground and came over to me without remorse.

"Look at you," he taunted, his eyes roving over my emaciated frame. "You don't even twitch anymore." Maybe you are already broken."

He ran his fingers over my chin. I didn't move.

He slapped me with enough power to knock me over to the wall.

"Better," he muttered, standing over my battered frame.

I fell hard to the ground, and the room spun on its side.

Baron walked away from the other woman and turned his back on me as if I didn't exist. "Clean up your little pet, Trisha."

I didn't hear Trisha's reply. My head was pounding too hard to pay attention to anything.

The pain was slicing now, raw and paralyzing.

Something tore within me-not flesh, but something inside.

And just when Trisha was telling me to get up and move, everything went black.

The palace of EerinHall reeked of old magic and older lies.

The stench of both permeated the air the moment I stepped out of my black vehicle and onto the moonstone path to the Hall of Accord.

Even the skies above EerinHall were deceitful-too still and clear.

The last time the stars shone this brightly, war followed within weeks.

"Do you feel that?" Liam said, his voice quiet beside me.

"Magic," I growled, my jaw tightening.

My wolf had always been restless around magic. "It's tightly coiled around here."

He nodded curtly and adjusted his cufflinks. I didn't comment on how tense his shoulders were.

The Blood Moon Pack were people known for not showing emotion or flinching, not even before the Council.

We stepped into the massive hall where glass domes reflected the moonlight like crystal claws, and the walls shimmered with illusions of the ancient wars.

The long table gleamed with black wood, carved from a cursed tree said to have been blessed by the Blood God, Aioder.

The other six chairs surrounding it were already occupied.

"Alpha Ciaran," said a dry, feminine voice.

It was Amyra, the vampire queen. Her cold, calculating red eyes locked onto mine with amusement.

"Countess Amyra." I bowed my head slightly, taking a seat at the table.

Across from me, Zolaiah grunted in acknowledgment.

The ogre king didn't like formalities. His tusks jutted out from chapped lips, and his enormous bulk made his chair creak beneath him.

"Let us begin," Rune Elarion, Princess Regent of the Bleeding Throne, said-her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

She stood at the head of the table, her copper hair braided back, the circlet above her head burning with starfire.

Rune-young, but as deadly as any of us sitting here.

"Who will go first," she said, finally taking her seat.

"I'll start," Amyra offered, her blood-red lips curving into a smile.

"Three more covens have gone dark this month.

It seems the witches are vanishing. Not running but vanishing.

They leave no trace, no blood and no magic signature behind."

"Then who is stealing them?" Aludria, the naga priestess, hissed, her tail coiled beneath her, eyes narrowed at the glowing scrolls laid out before us.

"Exactly what we're here to discuss," Rune said. "The supernatural realm is unraveling."

"The barriers weaken," Oleus, the silver-haired high elf, said, finally looking up.

"I felt the Earth pulse beneath the veil. Something larger than what we can handle is coming."

He took the cup placed in front of him and poured himself another cup of wine before taking a sip.

Zolaiah struck his chest with a fist. "Bring it on. We'll face it head-on."

"Do you think this is a fight you can crush with fists?" Daryus said, his eyes now open, molten and unfathomable.

He had been unnaturally still when we first arrived, his golden scales glinting faintly at the corner of his temples.

"These are not brawn beasts. This is old. Deep. Forbidden."

"And what of the sicknesses?" Liam asked, speaking up for the first time. "Border packs are reporting fevers that no healing rune can rectify.

Wolves are turning savage and their minds are breaking."

"That's not a sickness," Aludria said. That's a possession. Someone is using their bodies as a vessel."

Rhidian, the merman ambassador, thin-faced and smelling of sea-salt, dropped the goblet he held and leaned forward, his gaze serious now.

"Our waters have gone cold. Sirens are losing their voices.

My people are becoming feral, and I've lost two of my bloodlines already."

"That's impossible," Amyra said, her laugh devoid of humour. "Sirens don't lose their voices."

"They do now," he snarled.

Rune's face remained calm, but her voice dropped a notch. "We're dealing with something organized. And ancient."

"Or," Oleus said smoothly, taking another sip of his wine, "someone is working the strings from behind the curtain, and we are the puppets."

That was when I finally spoke.

"Enough speculation," I said, my voice carrying through the room. There was silence around the table. Even Amyra's smile died.

They listened when I spoke- not because I was the oldest, or wisest, but because I was least afraid to spill blood if offended.

Not even Zoliah could take me when I was crossed.

"You want theories, I'll give you one," I continued. Something buried is waking. Something even our ancestors feared.

And while we squabble over what to call it, it spreads. Eats the land and twists into something horrifying."

"You're suggesting what?" Amyra asked. "War? Do you think we're ready for that?

"I'm not suggesting war," I replied. Not yet, at least not yet. I'm saying we should stop pretending this is a threat that can be easily contained.

I'm saying it's time we stop the secrets."

Rune's eyes lingered on me a moment longer than necessary.

"There was a prophecy," she spoke slowly. Centuries ago. Of a girl born of the moon and silence. One who would free... and destroy."

For an unexplainable reason, my heart skipped a beat. I ignored the organ.

"I had never heard of such a prophecy," Daryus said.

"Because it was buried," Rune replied. To keep the realm from destroying itself. The child it spoke of vanished before the century turned."

"And you think this involves her?" Rhidian asked.

"I think," Rune said softly, "we're standing on a time bomb."

The room churned with power. Amyra's cup broke in her hand. Aludria coiled tighter and Zolaiah growled.

I stood.

"I'm done here," I said.

"Sit down, Alpha," Oleus said coldly.

I locked eyes with him. "Make me."

Tension snapped like a whip in the room. I could feel the force of his power bleeding from across the table.

"Enough," Rune growled. "All of you."

I didn't return to my seat. I walked away from the room after giving Rune a slight bow.

Liam trailed silently behind me until we were far from the great hall.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"No," I growled. "Someone's lying."

Liam's eyebrow rose. "Who do you think it is?" he asked.

"All of them."

We descended the stairs in silence.

I knew something was coming, something that felt awfully wrong.

And I'd be damned if I didn't find out what it was before it reached me first.

I woke to ice-cold water washing over my skin like a thousand needles.

I woke up abruptly, and the world came into focus-cold and unforgiving.

I soundlessly gasped, my mouth forming a scream that would never find the voice in my throat.

"You're done drooling, mute?" The voice was shrill and acidic.

Cora, another one of Baron's preferred bed warmers.

She stood over me with an empty bucket and a self-satisfied glint in her eye.

Her red hair was sex-tousled, lips still swollen and smug.

"I thought you were dead," she said, kicking my ribs with her toe.

"Shame. Would've been the most useful thing you've ever done so far."

I blinked upwards at the ornate ceiling, at the gold-imprinted crest of Moon Bliss that appeared to be mocking me. I didn't belong here.

I was still in his room, it seems.

The scent of sex still clung to the sheets.

My clothes were damp, and my hair stuck uncomfortably to the back of my neck.

The ache in my chest had dulled into a heavier type of pain.

The type that no amount of biting my tongue would quiet.

I sat up slowly, trembling with cold and something nastier.

Cora sighed dramatically.

"Oh, she's alive," she said, turning her back on me and heading toward the bed.

"Well, Baron says you have to go. "You're dulling the vibe, and we don't like it.

Baron's voice cut through the silence like a whip.

"Don't just stand there like a lamb for the slaughter, Eleanor," he said, "Get out."

I turned slowly to look at him. He was on the bed, shirtless, with scratches on his chest, and a smirk on his face.

"You fainted," he informed me with a chuckle.

"Pretty dramatic if you think about it.

But I guess that's a trademark of yours at this point. Comes with being weak."

He tilted his head. "You could've at least crawled out on your own. We had a late night."

Cora giggled, drawing her fingers over his chest. "She's always been good at being pathetic."

He didn't even look at me.

"Get. Out."

I didn't need to be told twice.

I stumbled towards the door, water dripping down my body, my clothes clinging to my shivering form.

My dignity was already torn to shreds and there was nothing left for them to take.

But I didn't go straight to my little shack.

No. I needed to breathe.

I veered off the trail as soon as I knew no one was behind me.

I walked deep into the woods, past the thorn trees and whispering pines, to the clearing I'd found years ago-a secret that no one else knew about.

The waterfall.

It crashed into a crystal pool, its mist rising into the morning sun like a prayer.

Flowers bloomed where the spray reached the moss.

Birds darted through the branches above. And for the first time that day, I could almost believe I was real.

I fell to the ground and let the hum of water soothe the bruises inside of me.

I thrust a hand through my wet hair, closing my eyes, trying to scrub out the sound of Baron's voice.

I closed my eyes and let the tears I was tired of holding back run down my cheeks. Why was I so unfortunate? Why?

I caught sight of a sharp rock at the roots of an old birch tree. If I took it, I could end it all.

Save myself all this trouble. But I wasn't brave enough to do it.

I wasn't brave enough to kill myself.

I was gazing at the waterfall when I felt it.

It was a small and soft presence and when I opened my eyes, there he was.

A child. Well, not a werewolf pup though.

He sat on the edge of the rocks, barefoot, his legs swinging above the water.

His skin shimmered faintly, like moonlight on scales, and his ears tapered into points.

His little teeth were too sharp for a pup at this age.

I tensed, my heart thudding in fear.

He tilted his head and smiled.

"Don't be scared," his voice said-in my mind. "I like your eyes."

I blinked, confused. He hadn't spoken. His lips hadn't moved. But... I'd heard him.

A lyrical giggle rang through my mind. "Of course you can hear me, silly," he said. "You don't talk with your mouth and I don't either. Look? Same-same."

He jumped down from the rock and padded closer, his big shining eyes curious.

"Why are you always sad?" he asked, tilting his head slightly in a questioning manner.

I swallowed hard and opened my mouth. Then I closed it again when I remembered that no words would come out. They never had.

He frowned.

"They hurt you," he said matter-of-factly. The big ones. Especially the one who smells gross."

That made me laugh. Well, as much as I could. The boy smiled too and, somehow, I could feel his joy in me.

He was talking about Baron.

I nodded slowly.

"You shouldn't be here anymore," he said, suddenly serious. It won't be long now. You shine too bright and soon, they'll all notice. You'll meet him today."

Meet him?

I frowned. Pointed to him, then tilted my head.

Who are you?

"A friend," he replied. "I've been watching you for a while." Especially when you come to lay against my tree." He pointed at the old birch tree.

My eyes caught the stone again, and I turned my face away.

You're the tree?

I signed.

"If you want me to be that," he replied, "I am much more though."

The boy stepped close enough to touch, reached out and laid a small hand on my heart.

"You forgot something," he said. "Inside here."

I had no idea what he meant. I wished I had. I really did. I reached out to hold his hand but-

He vanished.

Like smoke. Like mist. As though he'd never been there at all.

I thought I'd been dreaming, or I'd seen a ghost, but I could still feel the warmth on my cheek where his hand had touched me.

I stood up slowly, my legs shaking, my heart still beating too fast.

I didn't know what he meant. I didn't know what I'd forgotten. But something in me shifted, like a gear finally clicking into place.

Then I heard a piercing howl that tore through the moment, distracting me from what had happened.

The sound was shrill and loud and seemed to come from the direction of the pack grounds.

I turned-and ran.

By the time I'd gotten to the outer clearing near my shack, I knew something was wrong.

Everyone had gathered around my shack. They all seemed to be waiting for someone. For me.

And at the center, was Baron with his regular harem and half the pack.

The Alpha, of course, was not present. He never was. He had abandoned me years ago and left me to my fate.

Baron was in front, his arms crossed, a sadistic smile spreading across his face.

"There she is," he sneered. "Our little stray."

I stopped, my heart racing.

"Don't. "Don't let them see you flinch, I said to myself.

But they already had.

Baron moved slowly towards me.

"The pack has been restless," he said. "Tensions are high, and the people need... entertainment."

Cora snorted. "She'll be perfect for that."

Baron turned to the crowd. "So we're going to play a little game."

I stepped back. I didn't know what he was planning, but I was sure it was nothing good.

He raised a finger. "It's simple. You run. They chased." I turned then and saw some men and women grinning maliciously at me.

"If you make it over the western ridge before sunrise, you're free for the night."

He paused. A grim smile spread across his face.

"You don't... well, I'm sure they'll have fun ripping you apart."

Laughter rumbled through the pack.

My heart stopped at that moment. I couldn't breathe again.

Baron stepped forward. "You've got two minutes. Best get running, omega."

I didn't move.

And then I saw them.

Real wolves. They are usually kept in the kennels and let out and run wild at times.

Are they bringing them out now?

It didn't end there. Suddenly, some pack members stepped forward and right before my eyes, they began to shift.

The first changed-bones crunching, skin ripping, fur exploding from muscle and sinew.

Then another.

And another.

My breath hitched.

Run. My wolf, normally dormant, screamed. RUN.

So I did.

I turned and ran into the woods as the howls broke out behind me.

And this time... I wasn't going to stop.