Chapter 1
Txälina
"Do you think Alpha would win?" Txänuwan voice carried a little curiosity, drawing attention as we threaded our way to the front rows. The arena was a sea of bodies, restive with anticipation.
Spectators had risen at the first light of the day to claim seats for themselves. But as the royal family, ours had been reserved in advance. We arrived late, acknowledging other nobles with cursory nods as we strode forward.
"I'm not absolute," I replied. My gaze was fixed on our seats ahead.
Werewolves from different packs, and even humans, were present. Their eyes darted from one spectator to another. Such a gathering could only be for the final challenge between the last two male Werewolves vying for the throne. One of the males was an Alpha from the god's pack. The other was an Alpha from a low pack called Tvämeka.
In the Ngäerawa realm, the throne was never inherited through family. It was seized through a series of strength and wisdom. During each King's reign, eighteen Alphas of the realm would prepare their most powerful and formidable warrior.
Over the years, they would engage in combat and Werewolf duels until only one contender remained.
Now, at the pinnacle of this tradition, two champions stood to contest for the throne. Before the day was over, the surviving one would be crowned Prince of the realm.
The Queen, tall and lovely, stepped forward beside her husband, the King. She waved at the roaring crowd.
Various other royal children and cousins filed in after the King and Queen.
The King stepped forward, raised his hand, and addressed the crowd. Despite his years, he had a fine, deep voice that reverberated as he spoke.
As tradition mandated, the main duel would be preceded by spectacles. There would be contests between wild beasts, acrobatic displays, and dancing meant to rouse the crowd.
The acrobats came first, their oiled skin glowing under the sun. Their bodies moved with such celerity that the eyes struggled to follow. Next came the dancers. They were tall, lean, and beautiful.
Then a battle between an elephant and a buffalo. The elephant's trunk struck the buffalo with a force that made me flinch. After a few minutes of battle between the two beasts, the buffalo collapsed to the ground with a loud cry I could have gone my entire life without hearing.
A lion and a hippopotamus were brought next. The lion, in its hysteria, maimed a sentinel before being slain by the others. Blood smudged the sand, yet the crowd roared for more.
More beasts fought. Then a Werewolf male and a wild animal fought. Werewolf against Werewolf.
At last came the real battle between the two powerful males. The gates parted for the first male, Alpha Dxülaen.
Bare-chested, his taut muscles glowed under the sunlight. Sweat clung to his tanned skin like a second skin. His face was chiseled and hard, as though the moon goddess had created him with no trace of warmth.
"He's so beautiful!" Txänuwan exclaimed.
For once, I was interested in the duel.
The gate at the other end of the arena rumbled.
Werewolves. Five Werewolves, massive and snarling, charged forward.
Alpha Dxülaen watched them in silence as they moved towards him. Suddenly, he shifted. His lupine form towered over the five Werewolves, his fur a deep honey brown.
Alpha Dxülaen picked them off one at a time. He met the smallest one, squashing its skull in his wide jaws. The second Werewolf, blemished with white splotches, fell next. Alpha Dxülaen distracted the Werewolf from the rest of the pack, ripping its neck in an agonizing bite.
The leader let out a deep growl as it attempted to rally the survivors together, but with two down, fright cleaved them apart. Blood dripped from Dxülaen's mouth as he stared at the others with wild eyes.
And to the audience's joy, he chased the rest down and killed them. The leader resisted long, eschewing blow after blow. But Alpha Dxülaen was strong and brought the Werewolf down with full force. He pinned it beneath him, ending the fight with a combination of claws and fangs.
The crowd applauded.
I applauded for him.
They cheered and shouted as the sentinels ushered him away. Then came the other fighter. He also put up a good fight against the five Werewolves.
The crowd also applauded.
"Father believes Alpha Dxülaen would win," Txänuwan muttered, turning to me. "I think so too."
I nodded.
"He's magnificent, don't you think so?" she asked.
"There's something raw and untamed about him. Look at the way he mowed the Werewolves down without a second thought. He wasn't interested in the crowd's cheer, unlike the other. He'd once spoken that he was fighting for the crown, not the crowd."
When I didn't respond, she turned to me. "You haven't spoken anything, Txälina. Do you think he's handsome?"
"I don't know," I said. A hawker's movement caught my attention, and my mouth watered at the honey cakes she carried.
"You do think he's handsome," she teased, looking away. Then she said in a whisper, "I am certain he will win, and when he does, Father will arrange for my marriage to him."
...
The final duel was tough. Blood smeared the sand. Both males put up a good fight against each other. While Alpha Dxülaen fought calculated, the other attacked swiftly. Dxülaen deliberately eluded the blows from Mätxin, and this gave him more power as Mätxin's speed gradually led to fatigue. Mätxin slowly retreated. Seizing the opening, Alpha Dxülaen sank his fangs into a vulnerable spot. The rival staggered but charged forward, only for Dxülaen to sidestep and deliver the finishing blow, his sharp fangs severed Mätxin's head instantly.
For a moment, the crowd fell silent. Then they stood up, hailing the winner. The females threw flowers and kisses at him. Without a word, Mätxin withdrew back into the gate.
...
"Where is Alpha Dxülaen?" Txänuwan asked.
"In the throne room," Father replied.
"But doesn't he desire to greet the people first?"
"No, Sunä," he replied, using the Ngäerawan word for beautiful. "Not until he's crowned heir to the throne."
I looked at Txänuwan. The golden child. Father's favourite. She was indeed beautiful. She had golden almond eyes that shone brightly when they caught the sun. Her bright yellow gown embraced her curves, complimenting her brown chestnut skin. Only a few inches taller than me, she held a proud look.
We were stepsisters, bound once by strong friendship. We had loved each other until my stepmother drove a wedge between us.
Sentinels spread out to stop commoners from following us inside the throne room. Only those of royal blood were allowed in.
I had not stepped foot here since my parents' death, and the sight left me breathless.
The throne room looked so perfect, like a painting come to life. I'd heard tales about the throne sculpted from ash wood, powerful enough to kill a Werewolf. Anytime a King died, his blood was spilled upon it to claim ownership for the new leader. It was beautiful and grotesque in a thrilling way. The bronze colour of the throne was mottled with brown from old blood, stirring a rush of repugnance inside me. The pillars stood strong and felt ancient. The windows were shrouded with thick black curtains, blocking natural light. The chandeliers hung high, spreading beautiful light across the room.
The sound of our footsteps sent echoes across the room. The stairs stretched long, promising to expunge the strength of anyone who tried climbing.
The King, his wife, and the high priestess stood side by side. The Queen's black veil, which she now often wore since her son's death a few weeks ago, concealed most of her features. Though I was able to glimpse familiar ones. Wrinkles now lined her face since the last nine years we had met.
The high priestess opened the coronation book as she initiated Alpha Dxülaen into the King's family. From now on, he would be addressed as the son of the King and Queen, the heir to the throne.
He was taller than me by a few inches. Handsome, with russet brown hair and pale blue eyes. I wondered if we could expect great things from him when it wasn't him who was meant to reign as King. When his eyes met mine, I felt a shiver run down my spine, an unspoken awareness that he knew what I was thinking.