The Alpha King's mate is dead. With the one year anniversary of his coronation growing closer, law states that he needs a Queen by his side. Long thought to be cold and empty since his soulmate's death, the court had given up hope of him finding a n...
When Rose was a child, her father went to war. She remembered the day clearly but not in the ways that mattered. If she tried to picture it, she could not remember the uniform he wore, the material still stiff from being so new. She could not remember his retreating figure or the way he turned to face her with his fist closed over his heart.
She could not remember the last time she saw him.
No, what Rose remembered was ruining her blue dress on the swing outside. It faced the road her father had ventured down and after dinner, in a desperate attempt to catch a glimpse of him, she ran out. Her mother had locked herself in her bedroom and through the crack in the open window, Rose could hear her sobs.
She was determined to see him, if not for her then for her mother. She wanted to tell her that he was ok. That he wasn't far from home. But in her desperate attempt, she swung higher and higher until the swing could go no further and she was flung to the ground, colliding with the trunk of a nearby tree.
It was not the blood that she remembered, nor the flaming pain that wracked through her body. The only thing that stuck in her mind was the rips and stains on her baby blue dress. The dress that her father had bought her as a present before he left.
She did not remember the pain until now. The darkness brought her to that night. Perhaps it was the pain she was feeling or perhaps in this terrible moment, she wanted to be closer to the people she loved.
Rose couldn't be sure but all she knew was that this time she would spend longer in her father's embrace.
The image in her mind started to fade around the edges, movements faltering.
Her father was gone.
She was back on the swing. Higher, higher.
Higher until -
The door swung open.
She was back in the room, back in the pain
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
The King noticed the change in her heartbeat. No one had ever fought this before. He watched her carefully as she gasped for air, breaking free of the sleep he had but her into. He would ask how - he hadn't thought it possible. But his mind was stuck on the question - why? Why would she fight the very thing that was keeping her out of pain??
Her eyes shot open, her hand reaching out towards him. Zachariah took a step forward and the King knew that he would not hesitate to run the knife he was holding beneath his jacket through her heart if needs be.
He held up his hand, telling Zachariah to stop where he was as he leaned closer to Rose.
She was struggling to hold herself up, pain visible in every inch of her body as she tried to push it to the background.
"You're in danger." The King glanced up to look at Zachariah who was hovering over the bedside. "Someone has..." Another wave of pain came. The King reached out to take it away but his beta held him back.
"We need to know."
The King nodded. He knew that, he did. But he could also feel the pain, deep inside him. And it was worse than anything he'd ever felt before.
"What is it, Rose?"
Hearing her name was like opening a window, letting a breath of air in for just a moment.
"A curse," she looked over at Zachariah, knowing that if she looked into those eyes - his eyes - she might not be able to speak. "Someone put a curse on the King."
The King's head snapped to his beta who was staring intently at the girl, trying to piece everything together.
"Rose, I need you to tell us more."
"I don- I don't know any more." Rose gasped the words out, focusing on Zachariah's face in an attempt to keep the pain at bay. Then something shifted. It was as though a wave washed over her, taking with it the fiery pain she was feeling.
The King noticed it, too. There was something happening - something he should know.
The door swung open, Alex rushing in. The King glanced at him, not wanting his attention to be pulled away for long. But then it clicked. He looked back at Rose, at the look in her eyes as if she were here and somewhere else all at once.
"Paper. Somebody get me paper - and a pen." He held out his hand and waited as he heard Alex rummaging in the desk at the back of the room.
"What is going on?" Zachariah's voice was hesitant - he was considering the possibility, too.
A roughly torn sheet and a marker were in his hand within seconds.
"Ok." His movements were uncertain for a moment. Zachariah had never seen him like this. He watched as his friend slipped his arms under the girl, pulling her up so that she was sitting. The King placed a marker in one of her hands and the paper in the other, sitting near her so as to keep her from falling.
Her hand moved quickly across the page, sketching until the whole page was taken over by a scribbled drawing.
Alex noticed how her eyes didn't seem to be looking at what she was doing, how her body didn't seem to hold itself in the way Rose usually did. He couldn't explain it but the person in front of him didn't feel like Rose.
Until it did.
Suddenly her body slumped, her eyes widened and the pain returned. Rose looked down at the page in her hand, seeing it for the first time.
"What is that?" Zachariah asked.
Rose's eyes didn't move from the page. "I don't know." Her voice was barely a whisper before turning to a scream.
She couldn't take this pain much longer. The King knew it and took her hand in his.
