Grey's Tribute

The Queen

It was late when I woke up restless in the middle of the night, the chaos churning my stomach making it unbearable to sleep. That's when I found Victoria, sitting alone, with just a reading lamp on. The shadows are barely kept at bay by the soft light and there's a half-empty bottle of wine on the table beside her. She gestures for me to sit and I comply. I want to feel hatred towards her, but I don't. Jealousy, yes, but not hatred.

"You're so young. It's not a fault. You just have a lot to learn," she says, assessing me.

I watch as she tips her glass to her mouth, swallowing down the red nectar. She hands me the glass and I finish the rest, pouring more. I bristle slightly at her words, but it's true, I am a lot younger than her. There's a maturity to her and I feel she's someone I could learn from.

She watches me, assessing me with quiet, unassuming strength. I'm holding company with a Queen. I've never felt such intensity from a female before. She's grown into herself, beyond herself.

"Let's not pretend, Victoria."

She stops my next words with the flick of her hand. Taking the glass from my hand, she savors the bold flavor of the blood red wine as the liquid slides down her throat.

"Do you know how it feels to be something that people aren't ready for? To be an outcast, a deviant in your own pack?" I can taste the bitterness that comes with the memory. "It's hard growing up with all the whispers, the fear, the loneliness, my own father resenting me more and more as I grew."

She has and holds my attention.

"I was weak, defeated, unloved until Grey came to our pack for the fall. We were young, juveniles just coming out of our first shift." She smiles to herself at the memory.

"Victoria, I don't think I want to--"

Once again, she hushes me with just a look. "He made me believe in myself, in what I could become. He was always there for me and, after meeting him, I never felt alone." She finishes the glass and pours the last of the wine into the cup then hands it to me.

Sipping it, I feel the warmness spreading through my system, the light buzz of alcohol making my mind forgiving of her words. There's no malice, no bragging in her tone. It's her story and she wants to tell it. Finishing the glass, setting it down on the table and listening to what she has to say.

"Even back then, he could see me as an equal, as a comrade in arms, someone he could have at his side in battle. In some ways, he is very traditional and in others ways, he's ready for a change."

Getting up off the chair, she makes her way to the wine cabinet and picks out another bottle carefully. "I loved him back then with such fierceness, I gave him my virtue. It was his to take. I'm not ashamed of that. I never once regretted that decision."

My insides are twisting up into themselves and I'm uncomfortable with the sharp pain I'm feeling.

"But those feelings are long gone, replaced beyond the physical," Victoria continues. "I love him as my friend, as my equal. Besides, he has you now and wouldn't even throw me a second glance. And that's okay."

Uncorking the wine, she brings another glass and pours each of us a full one.

Sitting down again gracefully, she settles in, taking another drink. "He never was... the same after my father, always power hungry, demanded compensation for my lost innocent and blamed Grey for everything." She huffs to herself, anger rolling off her. "He changed. The guilt ate away at him. He never forgave himself for losing what was so precious to the pack. He never forgave himself for being so weak, he never forgave himself for what his brother has to endure every day." There is such sadness in those crystalline blue eyes.

"He's a great leader, Meela, but he's an even better ally. Someone who will never turn his back on you in your time of need. He's a worthy male."

"Meela." The Northerner comes into the room, looking tired, hair messy from sleep. "What are you two doing up?"

"I'm just talking to your mate, telling stories," Victoria smiles at him and he returns it.

He hardly smiles at me. I'm jealous at seeing their exchange.

"Meela, stop." He grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet. Slightly dizzy with the wine, I sway on my feet. His hand steadies me. "Are you drunk?"

"No, I just had a few drinks with your Queen." I'm trying not to be rude, but I just can't help it.

As we're leaving, the Northerner turns to her. "Virago, till tomorrow," he says.

That must be his nickname for her. A hot creep of jealousy slides down my throat and I feel his hand on my lower back, pushing me forward, out of the room.

"Meela, why do you insist on embarrassing yourself at every turn? You need to learn self-restraint. One day, you will pick the wrong wolf to antagonize." He opens the door to my bedroom, allowing me to enter first.

I can't even listen to what he's saying. I'm burning too hot with my jealousy at Victoria.

Growling him in threat, at him, he grabs me roughly by the back of the head, bringing my face to his.

"You will be the only one for me, ever. The only one I want this way." He kisses me. It's urgent and powerful, full of a deeper meaning.

Entangling my fingers in his hair, I bring myself closer to him, wanting more from him. My kiss is just as fierce, demanding. How will I ever be satisfied with another when I've tasted him?

"I want you....now!" The huskiness of his voice causes warmness to spread throughout my body.

I feel the bed against my back as I'm laid down. His hands are everywhere, feeling along my sides. His lips are rough, his tongue swiping against my lips. My wolf wants to mate as the hormones are release from me. My canines are descending as I start to rub my scent on him. I want to mark him.

Opening my mouth, honing in on the spot where only my mark should be. My pheromones saturate the room in a heavy blanket of understanding.

He jumps off me and starts pacing the room. His eyes are silver. His canines have come out, poking past his lips. He's flustered. "I'm sorry, I can't do this. I want to, but I can't."

Hanging my head with the feeling of unworthiness and inadequacy.

"Meela, stop. Don't do this. It has nothing to do with you, please understand this. Sometimes things aren't what they appear to be, you just have to learn to look more closely."

He doesn't come near me again, keeping a safe distance.

"I'll see you in the morning. Do not leave this room until I come for you, understand?"

I'm beside myself with anger at his orders. He's always telling me what to do. My want for him has disappeared, replaced by resent.

"Yes, master," I say in contempt.

He looks at me, his mouth pressed into a firm line and shakes his head sadly. As he closes the door behind him, I'm left alone once again.