The Wolf Queen (The Queen's Slave, Book 2)

Fifty: Queen's Gambit

What Other People Say

By: Sam Fischer & Demi Lovato

&

Feels

By: WATTS & Khalid

I woke on a cold stone slab, my wrists and ankles strapped down, the thick leather cutting ruefully into my naked skin. The cloying darkness weighed me down, and the heart-wrenching screams of the occupants in the cells next to mine left little to wonder where I was.

I bucked and fought hard against the restraints, adding my own scream to the mix when they refused to give. Looking up, there was no ceiling. I could see every breathtaking part of the sky, which was filled with hues of pink and purple as the clouds drifted lazily by through the darkness. The only thing keeping me from dozing off myself was the fact that here, the sky is permanently black. I squeezed my eyes closed and cried out, begging whoever was listening for mercy, for death.

A voice laughed back at me, cruel and deep. "Your wish has already been granted."

His voice was something else.....something wild, untamable. It was like a blast of warm air, like you'd lit a match and were unprepared for the roar of the fire. Yet at the same time it was akin to the spray of the sea, the wildness of waves when at times can lap so gently against the shore.

My body trembled and my heart raced. I did not look, not knowing if I could hear the weight of what I saw.

"Look at me, child." He prodded, that lovely voice caressing my soul in places I did not know were reachable. I did as he said, and gasped.

He was everything, the sky, the sea, the wind. He was the breath in our lungs and the blood in our veins. He was so ethereal that I didn't think there were words for it. Broad and strong shoulders, features so finely crafted that they were unable to be peered upon for long periods of time. He was tall, but what made him even taller were the eight foot tall gorgeous wings of gunmetal silver, half-unfurled behind him. They tapered off to white at the ends of each wing tip, with little spots in between. I thought it interesting how they were not traditionally black, or white, but something mixed.

Like ash landing onto freshly fallen snow.

He smiled so beautifully it ached, while in his eyes a monster came out to play.

And then I knew, I truly was dancing with the devil.

🖤

The last of winter was blissfully cool on my sweat dampened skin, with the breeze whipping my hair back from my face and the nearby tree branches threatening to dislodge me from my hiding spot, I had it made. If you discounted the fact that I was somewhat mateless, a failure as an alpha, a supernatural, and I had absolutely no idea what to do or where to start when it comes to bringing Elizabeth's mother down. I thought we had more time to figure this out, more time for me to learn. Not a lot obviously, but anything would've been better than this clusterfuck of a never-ending doomsday boulder hurling towards my face. I had no strategy, no way to understand what it meant to be skilled at the art of war. Sure I could snarl and bite and act like I have a clue as to what I'm doing but honestly I don't know shit.