A Queen Reject

Chapter 1

The wind howled darkly, piling up snow in drifts, blinding the ice-white night with puffs of dust.

In the battlefield, surrounded by dozens of corpses, I laid. Rogues encircled my body but it had no effect on me as my back laid numb against the dead ice grass stained red in their blood.

I gazed into their glazed over lifeless eyes frozen in horror, satisfied, before gazing at the twinkling stars in the sky.

The snow crunched underneath my blood matted hair.

It was then, I smiled. Everything is going according to plan.

He'll be so proud of me.

Years before

I scrutinized my reflection as I gazed intently at the mirror with animosity. Rosaline, if only the epithet was possessed by a being who could represent it appropriately.

I was just scarcely 14 years of age and still couldn't liberate my pores of the horrible acne that was peppered ubiquitously on my face. I looked like a savage, my once clear skin scarred with blemishes and craters of imperfection. I couldn't fathom how my mother, Adila Caster, and my father, Milan Caster, were so divine while I was antithetical.

I sighed heavily, averting my thoughts towards something with a more positive.

On the hopeful prospect, I was ecstatic that I was a year closer to the year of immunity; to the year of my rebirth.

My parents were counting down the days as they intended to step down from the royal throne and retire from their duties. Soon, they were going to entrust the responsibility of ruling the werewolf province to me as I was the eldest of my siblings, Raylin, Saturn, Rumi, and my brother, Ramsies.

Being directly linked to the royal bloodline distinguished my siblings and I from the rest of our kind.

We were accursed with distinct abilities since birth.

On the contrary, my mother is under the false pretense that it's a gift, nevertheless I abhor my "gifts" because at the end of the day, that is what's going to get us killed. That is going to lead to our undoing.

We're damned creatures.

Manipulating the weather and the minds of others in order to control their brains into seeing what I wanted them to see sounded lovely, but when you can't control it, like me, it can become quite deadly.

My family clings onto the false belief that as I mature I will be able to assimilate and apprehend my powers to the extent of being able to exert them with no difficulties. However, control seems to be out of my capacity.

"Rosaline!"

I'm jostled out of my reverie as I hear the familiar voice of Emilia, my personal servant and dear friend bellowing my name. Her footsteps echoed down the cool stone hall of the castle as get breaths grew sharp.

"That's my name, don't wear it out." I reply teasingly while chuckling at her flustered nature.

"Princess Rosaline, your parents are requesting your presence in the main hall immediately!" Emelia blubbers breathlessly.

I offered a small smile to her, sensing her apprehension, and nodded my head ruefully, " Most certainly. Emilia, inform them that my belongings are aboard the chariot and that I shall be down shortly."

She nods solemnly before turning on her heel to exit my chambers. I released the breath I wasn't aware I was holding; turning around to rest my hands on the arms of my oak wood mirror as I attempted to collect myself.