Maisie

The world felt distant, like I was watching everything through thick, tinted glass.

Seconds blurred past and it felt like I was wading through what couldn’t have been my reality. I let them lead me down the aisle to the Queen.

I recalled one of the many lessons with Brynn. It was customary for the newly mated to walk down the length of the aisle and pay their respects to the queen.

Her presence felt like being sucked into a black hole and her eyes were blacker than they were green as they fixed on the men behind me.

My... my mates?

The word sounded insane in my head.

My husbands?

No. Absolutely not. That made it sound like we had filed taxes together and argued over who left dishes in the sink. We had skipped several hundred Chapters and gone straight to where the story usually ended. The part right before they lived happily ever after.

I wasn’t nearly delusional enough to believe this was a happily ever after. I was certain I would be on the news tomorrow.

Newly wedded bride murdered husbands, claims she wanted to teach them an important lesson on consent.

"So this is your Choice. A she-wolf of no distinction and no bloodline," the Queen said, breaking me out of my deliciously dark thoughts.

Her tone was neutral, with only a minor inflection of disdain, but the words came down like hammer blows, and the Court fell deathly silent at the sound of it.

I felt Mercer go rigid behind me, while the other three huddled closer confidently in response to her question.

Dark green eyes slid to mine and I couldn’t help the tremor that went through my bones. It wasn’t entirely fear. I hadn’t stopped shivering since the crown was set on my head.

I wasn’t cut out for any of this drama. All I wanted to do was go to school, and now, I was getting examined and dissecting like a lab experiment before the Queen and the sneering royals who stood behind her.

When she held out a hand to me and said, "Very well. Come closer, child," I couldn’t help but flinch.

Satisfaction slithered into her eyes. "Skittish little creature. I promise, I won’t bite."

She punctuated her words with a smile that revealed acutely pointed fangs and I shuddered. How could anyone be so beautiful and so revolting?

Mercer’s finger touched the base of my spine lightly. "She must express her acceptance of you to the Court by kissing your cheeks. This is important, Adams."

I hesitated. What if she slitted my throat?

Quinlan made the decision for me and nudged me forward, very firmly.

The Queen’s fingers were surprisingly warm as they clasped my cheek. But her razor sharp nails dug into my skin as she pulled me closer and stared deeply into my eyes, my soul. The ruby at the center of her crown began to pulse erratically.

I felt a slight buzz at the center of my forehead, like something was trying to claw its way into my mind.

I frowned and blinked, confused as I pushed back at it, feeling it dissolve entirely.

The Queen’s eyes narrowed. "Tell me, what was your mother’s name, girl?"

It was spoken softly, but the answer got forced out of me anyway. "Matilda Adams."

She had a disturbed expression on her face for a split second, and then it was gone like I had imagined it. And then she leaned in and pressed her lips to my right cheek.

It felt like being kissed by death.

"Welcome to my court, Maisie Adams."

****

The doors to the smaller private hall slammed shut as the last of the courtiers filed inside.

After the Queen’s public ’acceptance’ of me, the tension had rolled out of the hall and the bodies of the dead and injured had been cleared out, the marbles cleaned and repolished so thoroughly, you wouldn’t know blood had been shed tonight.

The Queen had stood before the general public and announced that they could enjoy the celebrations, and that was all they needed to simply forget what I was sure was the craziest one hour ever. A few of the fourth years had gotten bold enough to take to the dance floors and more than half of the student body had joined them.

Meanwhile, the Queen was holding court right here, in this official, grand hall. There weren’t a lot of full breds present. Less than a score of them. Then, I noticed the hybrids. I realized then that we had been lied to, and statistically, the Queen’s Court was filled majorly with hybrids.

There were hundreds of them, which all things considered, was a very insignificant population when compared to wolves and humans.

And it struck me then. They really were dying out.

The Queen had barely sat back on her throne when a silver haired man who didn’t look a day older than thirty strode forward, fangs bared and fingers pointed at where I stood with Quinlan’s jacket draped over my shoulders, huddled close to the four on the left side of the gathering.

"That is unacceptable and we will not stand for it." He was red-faced and upset. "My daughter has been humiliated, yet again, by your nephew and this mangled cur—"

I had barely flinched at the flung insult when Mercer said, "Finish that sentence, Lord Graham, and I will have you gutted and your innards laid at my lady’s feet."

I stood there, barely breathing, trying very hard to keep the small tremors inside. Anger and despair had become so entwined, I was choking on it.

And I knew I had only a few minutes before it exploded.

Lord Graham’s lips snapped shut and he turned to the Queen. "I formally request the right of Blood Honour."

What did that mean?

The Queen quirked up a brow. "Fascinating as that sounds, Lord Graham, we both know you are no match for any of them in a duel. You are far too valuable to my court for me to watch you die."

Lord Graham bristled, red-faced, but Tessa came out of nowhere. "No. It is not my father doing the dueling." Her sterling gray gaze shifted to me. "I demand a duel with the thieving, whoring bitch."

Soren jerked forward. "No," he snarled vehemently.

Tessa smiled cruelly. "I have every right to fight for what was stolen from me. Keep your girl as a consort, a plaything, or a breeder if the bond demands it. That much I cannot change. But the crown is mine. The throne of future Queen belongs to me by blood and birthright."

She lifted her chin, eyes burning with triumph and hatred as she stared at the four princes. "If I win—and I will win—you will publicly renounce this mistake and make me your wife."

My breath turned shallow, but I willed my body to remain still, so still, I looked and felt like a statue. It was better than letting Tessa or any of them see what I truly felt on the inside.

"No," Jericho, Quinlan and Mercer barked in unison, like they already knew it wouldn’t make a difference.

I might have imagined it, but the Queen’s gaze latched onto Jericho and glinted malevolently as she said, "You have my permission."

"You cannot," Soren said, the unfeeling facade he’d been wearing all evening cracking down the middle. "She isn’t fully transitioned yet."

The Queen ignored him, leaning back in her throne. The tall Lycan male with blue black hair had a lock of her hair twirling around his finger, but he was openly staring at my legs.

"The consummation rite that should have taken place tonight will be postponed until tomorrow," she announced. "A public rite, as tradition demands. The Court will bear witness to the full sealing of the bonds."

My stomach twisted violently.

Public?

The Queen continued. "The duel between Tessa and Maisie Adams will take place tonight, during the Red Moon rite in the caves."

Mercer stepped forward. "She is not ready. This is not a duel. It is an execution."

The Queen casted him a scathing look. "If your bride cannot hold her own against Tessa, then she is not fit to stand as future Queen. The people must know the woman they bend the knee to is worth the blood that was spilled tonight." Her cruel smile widened. "Let the Red Moon decide."

A guttural snarl tore out of Soren but Quinlan gripped his arm, holding him back. "Don’t."

The Queen arched a brow at the display. "You should listen to Chastain, nephew. Acting rash and openly disobeying your Queen will only prove that you are unfit for the title of Crown Prince. The drama you have caused tonight, forcing a wolf with no bloodline onto the throne, spilling blood in my Court.. you are behaving exactly like a rebel."

The words hung heavy in the air. "And should you continue to disobey and disregard my orders, I will punish you like I punish rebels. I will strip you of your title as Crown Prince and name a new heir. I will revoke your brothers’ royal privileges. And I will have your precious bride torn apart by the fires while you watch. Do not test me."