Chapter 1
Nxälina
"The King is dead."
The dice slipped from my fingers, landing against the stone floor. I stared at my friend, Nüxali, in shock.
"What did you say?"
"The King… He is dead."
"They're coming, Nxälina, and I am afraid of what will—"
"Do not say it!" I snapped, turning around. "Where is the Queen?"
"In the throne room," she swiftly replied.
I rose from the bench, but before Nüxali could catch me, I was already running. I fled my room, my feet thudding against the cold stone. The air seemed heavy, as though the walls could feel the grief passing through me. I bit back the tears that threatened to fall.
At last, I arrived at the throne room. There, upon the high chair, sat my mother, Queen Näzxuwan VI of Nxäerawa, she who was worshipped as the earthly figure of Säli, the moon goddess. The Queen whose ice-cold expression never cracked while attending to the realm's activities. But today, I read fear in her face.
Though I had already known the truth, some part of me prayed to hear another tale, that my father lived, that he had smitten our enemies and would return to us soon.
I approached the steps, dropped to one knee, and slowly bowed my head.
"Mother."
"Rise, child." She leaned back, head poised in a thoughtful tilt.
"Your father, the King, is dead," she broke the news to me.
I felt as if I had been stabbed in the gut. No, no—not Father.
"And Tvärdlynians come swiftly."
I brought my hands to my mouth. "But what about our warriors? I thought we were winning?"
"So I believed," she answered, strangling nervousness in her voice. "But Tünxat'ai pack came at the last hours of battle, when our men were worn out. They cut through us, and your father fell at the crack of dawn."
Tears burst free from my eyes. "Why do we hear of this only now?"
"Because all who could have borne the news are dead. The tidings were brought to us by deserters of Tvärdlyn." She leaned forward. "We must flee."
"Flee?" The word tasted like ash in my mouth. Never had I thought there would come a day when I must abandon my people, my home. "Where could we run to, Mother?"
"Anywhere. We cannot hide here, Nxälina. They come for us, for you."
My father, Mäeruvax VIII, who had seemed unbreakable, a powerful warrior with thick skin and broad shoulders. He'd call me his princess and tell tales of what a great Queen I would be. But now he was gone.
The old dispute with Tvärdlyn had soared these past few months, but never had I thought it would end thus.
I wanted to ask why the other packs did not fight, why fidelity failed us at this dire time. But the answers were all written on my mother's face. Without the King, the realm had lost any advantage we once held. Some warriors fled, others bent the knee to Tvärdlyn's Alpha, Txakailu. The rest were butchered during the battle.
My mother rose, her red gown swirling around her as she descended the stone stairs. I breathed in the familiar scent of her perfume. She took my hands into hers.
"Nxälina, my child. It seems only yesterday that Säli gave you to me, and not twenty years ago. But now we must say our goodbyes."
"Why must we say goodbyes?"
My mother's green eyes were calm as she looked at me. "Because you must flee with your guardsman, Dxülaen."
I glanced at my guardsman. Tanned bronze skin and short brown hair, his face was hard as stone.
"And you, Mother?"
"I will stay. They must believe you are here. My life will buy you enough time to flee. You must go to Üxiryan."
Üxiryan. The pack where my ancestors descended from. Long ago, after the moon goddess appeared to a young female warrior Alpha, Nxälina, she took with her husband and left for Tkämeva. Üxiryan was a land I had never seen, yet now it would be my only refuge.
Dread careened through my spine. I understood the truth immediately. My mother would die, so I may live.
"I do not want you to die!" My voice was warped with pain and anger.
"You must not waste your sorrow on me, child. Soon, I will follow your father. It is your life you should worry for. Forget not what you are, nor the ancient blood that runs through your veins. If our enemies should kill you, then not only you will perish, but the whole of Nxäerawa realm would be doomed."
I shook my head as more tears poured from my eyes. I sniffed them back.
"No, Mother. Please, no."
"Nxälina," she called. "Soon I will walk through the gates of Txärwan, and there I shall meet your father again."
I loathed the way she looked then. Her eyes were already distant, like she was not here.
"Why must you die for me?"
"Everyone would forfeit their life to guard what you carry," she replied. "Your brother, Mäeruvax the young, I have sent word to him already. He shall find you in Üxiryan."
Without warning, I embraced her warmly, and for the first time in years, Mother wept against my shoulder.
"Your Highness," a young priestess broke the silence between us. "Time grows short."
She turned to Dxülaen, and he quickly walked toward us, bowing before the Queen.
"Dxülaen, I entrust the Princess into your keep. Protect her with your life until she reaches Üxiryan."
He bowed low. "It shall be done, Your Highness. I will guard her until my last breath."
My mother flashed me one last smile before she turned around. Dxülaen reached for my arms, but I moved away, sniffing the tears from my eyes.
"We must run away together. Run far away where our enemies cannot reach."
She paused, her shoulders stiffened, but she did not turn.
"Please, Mother. Do not do this. You must not die for me."
"Nxälina!" Her voice echoed through the throne room. "I leave now to join your father, the only place where our enemies cannot reach. You are a Mätleklav. A Queen. The hope of Nxäerawa. Do not forget that."
As we turned around to depart, I heard my mother's footsteps as she ascended the throne. But before we could leave the room, the double doors opened, and I froze as a shape filled the room. Warriors, their heads tied with blood-red cloth. Tvärdlyn warriors.
I staggered back. The warriors slowly parted to reveal a tall figure.
He was frightening to look upon: one eye black as obsidian, the other green as mine. His face was marred with thick scars, his lip torn at the corner and pulled into a grotesque rictus that bared his teeth like a monster.
"Hello, little cat." He smirked.
My body froze.
Mäeruvax. My brother.