"Cheta… it has been a twilight since you have come to see us."
The night was strangely darker than usual. The moon had retired to its nest and for miles, all around was darkness, lit only dimly by the small candle Cheta was holding. The crickets' cries were deafening to hear, as though they had stories they were all desperate to tell.
"I... I am really sorry."
He was out of breath. Leaving the palace by this time was a very risky mission. The White-Eyed were ruthless when it came to guarding the Palace. Even an Obadari such as himself, though of higher status than the White-Eyed, found it difficult to leave after dusk. Yet for all these moons, he had managed to make it work.
She had watched him grow from an indecisive teenager, to a Obadari who was feared and respected in all the lands, skilled in the art of fighting and deception. Slender and graceful, he moved like mist slipping through a blade's edge, never caught. His skin was deep brown, flawless and soft, glowing. Long lashes framed eyes that could be warm as honey or cold as obsidian, depending on what the moment demanded. His lips were full and mischievous, quick to smirk but rarely to speak unless it mattered.
Cheta wore the traditional silk-wrapped tunics of the Obadari -dyed in deep indigos and silver thread, fitted close enough to reveal a lithe, athletic frame beneath. He wore his hair long and braided with charms of protection, a single blue bead marking him as bound to the royal line.
He was well versed in secrets. A power that gave him an edge, making him feared and respected.
There was even a local adage that went, "If you think it is hidden, Cheta the Obadari would definitely find it."
People stared. Men and women alike desired him. He was man, he was woman. But somehow, he was none. However, Cheta desired none of them. Love and relationships were distant concepts to him. His heart, his vow adn his loyalty belonged to the Princess. Cunning as a serpent, loyal as a dog, Cheta was not just the Princess's guardian, he was her secret blade, and in many ways… her only friend.
And through these moons, he had become Ola's only friend too forming an unbreakable link between slavery and royalty.
"The Great Moon Festival is coming up soon. After all these moons, the princess would soon be back from her Osimiri. I have been very occupied with activities surrounding her return."
"How… how is she?" He motioned to little Aira who lay on a raffia mat, fast asleep. Her brows were creased in worry, and he could sense that she was troubled.
"I… I do not know, Cheta. It is getting harder and harder to hide her wolf. I have done all I can. I think we need some sort of spiritual assistance right now. She is growing too strong for me."
She glanced briefly at her daughter.
"Even tonight, it was so difficult to get her to sleep. She kept shifting from wolf to human and back. I am afraid that she is beginning to hate me too. I am becoming too strict on her.." Her voice broke, tears threatening to spill.
"I am only doing what is best. But she is too young to understand."
"She would be fine. The princess has given me instructions to begin training her. She is old enough to learn now. Once the ceremony is over, the princess would handle the spiritual part. You know, she is soon to become an Osimiri." The last part of the statement, said with pride.
Ola thought about the princess. She remembered the first and only time she had seen her before her father sent her on an inter-palace exile. She was a vision unlike any the kingdom had ever seen.
She was an albino and in those times, albino's were rare, beautiful, mysterious.
Her skin, pale as morning light upon untouched snow, shimmered as if the gods had carved her from moonstone. Her hair was thick, pure wool. It folded in silvery coils, catching glints of gold in the breeze, like strands of starlight spun by divine hands. Her eyes were of pale amber, striking, otherworldly - They held a quiet intensity, as though she could see not only the world around her but the threads of fate that danced beneath it. They glowed with wisdom far beyond her years, framed by lashes so fair they seemed like whispers on her cheeks. Her features were delicate yet regal, carved with the grace of ancient queens. High cheekbones, a gentle brow, full lips the color of rose quartz. She moved with the stillness of spirit, every step deliberate, as though her feet remembered the rhythm of the earth's first song.
Clad in flowing white and gold robes embroidered with sacred symbols, she looked less like a royal and more like a being from the realm of spirits- an angel sent to walk among mortals. She bore no crown, yet the air around her felt holy, as if the very winds bowed in reverence.
Ola had never seen anyone so beautiful.
For moons, the Princess had remained unseen, hidden within the sacred halls of the inner palace, where she was being trained into being an Osimiri -an oracle of the old ways, a spiritual light for the kingdom. Her father may have been a very ruthless man, but he believed a lot in spiritual affairs. When Kambi was born an albino, it was a sign to him that the goddess had given him an Osimiri. He despised her for being born a female, but he needed her to achieve complete physical and spiritual control. Whispers spoke of her beauty, her power, her silence. But now, at long last, the doors would open. After years of seclusion, she would step into the light.
"You have to help me Cheta. I can not bear to lose this child." Tears were very common now in her life, she felt they had lost their meaning.
"I will… I will. Just give me a little time. Until the end of the ceremony."
Ola nodded defeatedly. She knew the end of the ceremony might just be too late.
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The temple was grand and sacred.
Its walls, dark as night and etched with ancient glyphs, pulsed faintly with silver light, as the moon shone dimly through its windows. Moss clung to the stone like fur, and the ground trembled faintly beneath her feet, as if the land itself recognized her presence.
Massive pillars rose into the sky, each one carved with snarling wolves mid-transformation -half-man, half-beast, forever caught between two worlds. Their eyes were studded with fragments of moonstone, glinting coldly in the moonlight. Vines slithered over their limbs like veins, yet not a single one covered their faces. The faces had to remain seen. Remembered.
Inside, the temple opened into a wide, circular chamber -the Sanctum. There, at its center, lay the Moon Altar ; a smooth slab of obsidian veined with crimson. It hummed softly, like a heartbeat. Above, there was no roof, only open sky. The moon reigned high above, her light pouring down into the altar's core. Around the chamber walls, murals told stories of the first pack warriors, cursed and blessed by the Moon Goddess. The sweet smell of incense, Ash, herbs lingered in the air. The scent of past rituals. The echoes of ancient howls seemed to rise from the very stone, circling her like ghostly memories.
Kambi stepped through the great archway, where two stone wolves sat on either side, their jaws parted in a frozen growl. Her flawless skin was draped in regal flowing indigo and white robes, and on her forehead, the mark of an Osimiri. It was a delicate, spiral sun etched in ochre, branded into her forehead, bearing in it a crescent moon.
"How is she?"
Her voice had grown strong. She had grown beyond a little scared girl. She was now a powerful Princess, saddled with the responsibility of catering for her people's spiritual needs.
For moons, she had been on spiritual exile. The only people who had seen her, were her teachers, the chief priestess, father, mother and some of her closest Obadaris.
"She is doing well, Princess. She is now six moons old… you would be surprised to see how big she has grown."
She nodded proudly. "Do you think she would know me?"
"Ola and I have told her so many stories about you. She is a really bright child. I am sure she would recognize you right away."
She smiled but it did not reach her eyes. There was a painful moment of silence between them. Kambi could sense he had more to say.
"Speak up… tell me what is really happening."
"She… she…" He hesitated. With the ceremony coming up, the princess has been saddled with so much responsibilities and activities. He wondered whether now would be the right time to tell her.
"Tell me what is on your mind Cheta…is the child really alright?"
"She is… she is doing too well in fact. Almost too well to her detriment. The herbs Ola has been using to cover her up is gradually losing its strength. She is becoming too strong by the day. Soon, we fear that she might be discovered as unbranded."
They knew that day was coming soon. She was only worried that it was going to come sooner than they expected it to.
"I saw her wolf today," Cheta said, voice barely above a whisper. "It was a brief moment but I have never seen anything so beautiful, powerful and free."
Kambi's gaze shifted toward him. "And did anyone see?"
"No. But the walls have ears. The White-eyed are very observant. You know that Gamma Ejira, your father's third in command, is in charge of the slaves. Ever since rumors of a supposed uprising have been going round, he has become more strict with the slave quarters."
Kambi exhaled slowly. "Tell Ola to do her best to hold out. After the ceremony, I will perform the ritual to lock her wolf-spirit, until it is the right time for her to be free"
Cheta nodded. There was silence. The flickering lamp seemed to waver with their shared fear.
Cheta hesitated, his fingers tightening on the folds of his wrap. "And if she is discovered before then?"
"Let us hope she is not. She will be executed - Ola too." Kambi said, her voice flat. "And I will be imprisoned, or worse. They will call it betrayal, treason, sorcery… anything but truth."
"I would not let that happen. I swore an oath to protect you, my Princess. I would not let any harm come to you or the child."
The servant and the princess sat together in silence, two souls bound by a secret that could shatter the kingdom. Outside, the wind moaned again. But inside the chamber, beneath the dim light and sacred silence, the future was already shifting.
Later that night
Kambi stirred side to side on her bed, restless and unable to fall asleep. She was afraid - for the child, for herself, for her father and mostly, for her future. The moon shone brightly through her windows, casting a beautiful shadow against her bed frame. It was beautiful. She was only sixteen moons, and the weight of her responsibilities as a Princess was already so heavy on her shoulders.
Most times, she wondered how life would be if she was just a normal girl. She fantasized about so many thing- her freedom, her love, her will-power. She was envied by many. Afterall, she was a Princess. She was royalty, the daughter of the great Alpha Amusu of Black silver - The True Heir to his throne. But none truly understood the weight of being a Princess and a daughter of the most brutal Alpha in the Five Realms of the Earth.
Her father hated her to the core. And so did she.
Her mother... she was only a shell of who a Luna should be. She was weak and afraid. She was a good mother but a terrible queen who had no say in the Pack's affairs. Her father made sure of that.
Cheta understood.
He was more than just an Obadari, he was a friend - her only link to the outside world. But there was only so much he could do for her. She was young, she needed to be free, to explore the world, to have friends. She knew all about responsibility and duty. Her father never failed to remind her about it whenever he had the chance, just as her never failed to remind her of how much of a disappointment she was. She worked so hard to make him proud, despite the hatred she had for him.
Her step-brothers and sisters from all her father's concubines were all working hard to replace her.
If she died, one of them could.
She was not even safe within the walls of the palace.
A sudden knock, rhythmic and low stirred Kambi from her thoughts.
"Cheta?" She called softly. There was no answer. "Cheta, is that you?"
For a moment, only silence. She turned and waited.
"Kambi…It is Dalhatu"
Her heart skipped. She rose quietly, and crossed the room. When she opened the carved wooden door, the hallway's shadows parted and there stood Dalhatu.
A vision of defiance.
She wore the black-and-crimson night tunic of the Obadari, the royal crest pressed over her broad chest. Her locs were pulled back tonight, thick ropes gleaming with oil and threaded with charms of protection. Her eyes, deep-set and storm-dark, locked onto Kambi's with a softness that betrayed the iron in her frame. At just nineteen moons old, she was every bit the warrior, tall, muscular, with hands that had broken spears and hearts alike - Kambi's heart.
Kambi's breath caught, all her worries dissipating into thin air.
"Dal," she whispered.
Before her name fully left the princess's lips, Dalhatu stepped forward and pulled her into an embrace. Kambi's toes reached their tips as she stretched to meet her, burying her face in the curve of her neck.
"I missed you." Her voice was deep as it rumbled behind Kambi. She felt the hairs on her neck rise. Slowly, Dal's hand found her face. Her eyes were the most beautiful Kambi had ever seen - like a dream she wanted to remain lost in.
This was her silent rebellion. Dalhatu was beautiful, strong, ambitious but at the same time, she was a bad decision, a mistake, a tread upon stormy waters. But at this moment, Dalhatu was perfect.
Then slowly, their lips collided, sealing their sins in a taste of longing. It was long and sure, a kiss laced with longing, danger, and the comfort of someone who had tasted your soul and loved you still.
"You came," Kambi whispered, smiling against her lips.
Dalhatu grinned, lopsided and devastating. "I always do."
The door shut behind them with a soft thud.
In the safety of flickering lamp light, the mask of duty fell away. Dalhatu's tunic loosened, her armor clinked softly to the floor. The princess traced the lines of muscle, of scars hidden beneath fine cloth, her fingers memorizing what the world had forbidden her to touch.
Their laughter low, breathless and secret filled the chamber like perfume.
No one could know. A princess could not love a woman. A princess could not love an Obadari. A princess could not love a man who was not betrothed to her by her father - a princess could not love.
But tonight, Kambi did not care. In Dalhatu's arms, she was not a target, not a vessel of destiny. She was simply Kambi. A young woman wrapped in forbidden joy.
And under the watchful moon, two bodies curved into each other, duty and responsibility forgotten in the chill of the night.
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Alpha Amusu's palace was a thing of cruel beauty. It was vast, imposing, carved into the sacred rock at the edge of the mountain. The temple stood behind it like a towering shadow, adding to its magnificence. Its golden spires rose like sharpened claws into the sky. From afar, it shimmered with the illusion of peace. But inside, it was a fortress of fear, a cathedral of silence and submission.
It was the place where the devil himself ruled with an iron fist.
The Great Hall was the heart of his power. It stood long and wide, with marble floors veined in obsidian and walls carved with the conquests of Alphas long dead. The original palace of Amusu's ancestors had been destroyed during the time of Amusu's grandfather when the reign of terror began. It was his way of putting an end to the old beliefs, and bringing about a rebirth of death and destruction.
Massive pillars shaped like wolves rising on their haunches lined the chamber, each one baring stone fangs in eternal snarl. Overhead, thick iron braziers burned with blue flame, casting shadows that moved like spirits watching from the rafters.
At the far end of the hall, on an elevated throne carved from the ribcage of a beast, sat Amusu the Alpha of the Black-Silvered-Wolf Pack. His eyes were sharp, dark, and merciless. His aura filled the room with suffocating helplessness to all in it.
Beneath him - literally, knelt his Luna, Kambi's mother. She knelt at his feet on a small cushioned step, her eyes downcast, her hands folded obediently on her thighs. Though finely dressed in silks and jewels, her position made it clear: she was a symbol of loyalty, a showcase of his power, not an equal. She was betrothed to him when she was barely fifteen moons old, and had lived under his heavy hand for more than twenty moon. She used to be an intelligent young lady with dreams of becoming a Healer. But those dreams remained as they were - dreams. She had become a subject of the Alpha's abuse. She was no more a slave than those who lived in the quarters. A beautiful, silent reminder of his terrible reign over his people, and his thirst for power.
Her beautiful name, Jamira, forgotten. Now, she was nothing more than Luna, Alpha Amusu's wife. Her name was irrelevant.
Below her, scattered across woven mats on the cold marble floor, were the Ekazaris - Amusu's concubines. They were seventeen in number, and more would soon be added. Some were daughters given as gifts to the Alpha by their fathers in hopes of scoring special favors with the Alpha, while some were conquered Lunas of other Packs whose husbands he had slain. Some were heavy with child, their swollen bellies rising beneath embroidered wrappers. Others cradled infants or kept quiet toddlers pressed close to their breasts, silent as stone. They did not speak. They did not raise their heads. They were beauty and breeding, nothing more.
A heavy silence hung in the air.
The Obadaris, the royal guards stood in a half-circle formation at the foot of the dais. They were elite, cloaked in red and black, armed with spears and crescent blades. Their eyes were sharp and alert, watching every twitch and breath of those gathered in the hall. Behind them, placed precisely at the corners and flanking the great doors, stood the White-Eyed - the Palace guards known for their bleached irises and vow of silence. Dressed in bone-colored leather, they looked otherworldly, almost spectral, as if they saw things no mortal should.
Every soul in the chamber held their breath. The weight of the Alpha's presence choked like smoke.
An official hearing was underway, a formal gathering where decisions were made, accusations judged, and punishments delivered. Today however, was about Kambi's return and the great ceremony on the way. However, there was something more a rumor of an unbranded slave had reached his ears.
The air crackled with tension. One wrong word could end a bloodline. One glance too bold could cost a tongue.
The Beta, Gamma and all the other members of the court sat at directly in front of him awaiting the day's hearing, hearts beating, waiting for the Alpha's words.