Book 2 Chapter 1
Book 2 Chapter 1
Ziana’s POV 3 1/2 years later
“Sh*t.” I mumble as I stub my toe on the staircase.
“Ziana, is that you?” I hear from the Queen’s office on the second floor of the castle. It’s four thirty in the morning and I am currently sneaking in. Curse my big toe for not complying with the plan.
I look to the right and see that my mother’s office door is open with a small lamp on, emitting a soft glow. That soft glow is quickly dimmed as she steps into view. Her arms crossed, grey eyes showing disapproval, and one perfectly shaped dark eyebrow raised.
“Yea, mom. It’s me. What are you doing up so early?” I ask quietly to ensure nobody else wakes.
“I had some last minute plans to go through for the meeting today. It’s the best time to do that since your brother likes to wake up at an unholy hour.” She explains. My brother, Jaxon, the prince of the werewolf kingdom, is now 2 years old.
My mother wrinkles her nose and sighs exasperatedly.
“Ziana. You really shouldn’t be out all night partying and sleeping around. What will your mate think?” She asks me. Repeating everything word for word every time she has caught me sneaking in. I roll my eyes in response.
“No wolf means no mate, mother.” I say and she sighs again at the same counter I always give her. It’s not like it isn’t true, the dark magic in my veins cursed me to a life with no mate. Honestly, I am not mad at that part of the magic at all, that part is a blessing. I don’t want a mate. The thing I despise about the magic though, is the no wolf part. My wolf was taken from me and although I have the wolf abilities, I have no wolf.
“You know that not everybody has a wolf and they still mate. I mean look at witches mated to bears, or wolves. Vampires, fae. Ziana you need to remember that just because you don’t have your wolf doesn’t mean that you won’t have a mate.” She says, taking me by surprise. Normally she just tells me to get upstairs and clean before Warrick scents me.
“Even though that’s true for them, it isn’t for me. You know that. That’s the one good thing about this magic. I won’t have to deal with the mate bond.” I say and regret it as soon as I see her face become dark and upset.
“Don’t you dare say that. A mate is a blessing and you should be looking for them, not hiding in the pack, where you know they are not.” She growls and I look away.
“I’m not going to apologize for how I feel.” I say and she growls again. I feel the rising anger through the parental bond and before things could escalate there is crying over the monitor in her office.
“Damnit.” Mom curses and shuts her door, heading my way to our Alpha suite house thing. “Let’s go before he starts another fire.” She grumbles and we make our way up the stairs to our home. Before we enter she looks
at me. Her eyes are serious.
“I have hung a dress in your bathroom for you to wear for the Alpha meeting today. You need to be there to greet the guests. They arrive at 11.” She says and I nod as we walk in. Best to not poke the bear with grumbling about wearing a dress.
When we walk in, Warrick is standing in the middle of the room, holding Jaxon, who is now safely on his way
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Book 2 Chapter 1
back to sleep.
Warrick’s blue–orange eyes shoot to mine and I see the slight anger flash before the tiredness returns, His
bulk frame, holding Jaxon, always amuses me. He looks like he is holding a basketball in his arms.
“Please tell me it wasn’t a warrior.” He said and I shook my head.
“Not since you asked me not to.” I say and he sighs, then nods.
“Good, we don’t need any more fights.” He says and I smirk as mom’s face becomes reddened.
“That’s all you are concerned about? Fights? Not that she isn’t waiting for her mate?” She silently shrieks. I have to fight to hold in my laughter, because her silent shrieks are hilarious. Warrick shrugs and moves his head to tell me to go on to my room. His brown hair falling into his eyes as he does so.
“Not everybody waits for their mates, Evan. You know this. You also know that she won’t listen to one thing anybody says.” I hear his response as I close my door.
I am not the wh*re that mom thinks I am, but I would much rather her think I am sleeping around constantly than know what I am doing. Granted, when I first got the message after my birthday I lashed out. For about 6 months I was sleeping with quite a few people, and drinking. Lots of drinking. Now I have my select few that I share myself with, but even then, it’s maybe once a week, rather than every day. I’d say that’s pretty good.
I shake my head to rid myself of the thoughts as I walk into my bathroom to wash away the scents on me. Sighing, I undress and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The scars littering my torso are mocking me. I roam my eyes across my body. My hands reach to feel each raised scar. Some are smaller, some are larger. Some are the dark pink that normal scars look like, while others are silver. I haven’t learned why some are different colors. My guess is it has to do with the supernatural healing ability.
I am lucky that most of my scars are on my back. There are so many there, that I don’t think there is a patch of smooth skin. I have tried to cover the worse ones with a tattoo and the artist did exceptionally well considering the skin texture he was working with.
The tattoo I wanted was a phoenix rising over a battlefield, spitting fire onto the enemies. It is beautifully depicted, covering shoulder blade to shoulder blade, reaching just below them. But if you look close enough you can see the raised skin of the scars.
My torso would be the next area, but there aren’t as many there, They didn’t want the front of me to be too mutilated. I have small cuts across my arms that aren’t too noticeable. The most noticeable of the scars that can’t be covered by clothing, are the circles on my wrists from being cuffed. I keep these covered with rubber bands and bracelets.
The only other scar that is noticeable is the one on my face. Running from the hairline on the right, through my right eyebrow and circling my outer eye. It is an old silver scar that wasn’t too deep, but was enough to mark my face. I have heard some describe it as delicate and pretty, but edgy. I can see that, but I hate the memories it brings me.
I sigh, bringing my hand down and look into the bright purple eyes that stare back at me.
“Enough, just get into the shower and go to sleep.” I tell myself and I nod, walking into the shower and cleaning off.
