The contract

I tossed and turned through the night, unable to sleep. I woke up around three and began practicing my magic. Since magic was forbidden, my father was the only person who knew that I possessed it.

Sitting cross-legged in my bed, I closed my eyes, imagining a tiny fire. After focusing for a moment, I could feel the warmth in my hand.

Smiling, I opened my eyes to see a tiny flame floating just above the palm of my hand. I motioned my fingers upward, and the flame jumped slightly, making me smile. I was learning more and more about control. Without a teacher, I was forced to read through old texts that my father kept in a hidden trunk.

They were my great grandmother’s before she died in the War on Witches.

The magic that flowed through my family's blood ended with her.... that was until I was born. The first time I was angry with my mother, all the lightbulbs in my room burst. I had thought about how angry I was in my mind, and then they were shattering, causing my mother to scream. My father assured her that he would have the electrician fix a short right away, but when his eyes met mine, I could see fear. I could smell it through the smell of smoke that emanated from the broken bulbs.

His eyes broke something in me that day.

Not because he feared me, but because he feared for me. Magic meant death. I felt dampness on my cheeks as I thought about him. He protected me. Loved me despite my truth. His death has left a hole in my heart that would never heal. My father loved me enough to make up for my mother’s hate, that much was certain.

The next day, he took me to a place that he called my own. It was my great grandmother’s sanctuary, and quickly felt like my own oasis. No one in the kingdom knew about it except for my father, and now me. He said my great grandmother left explicit instructions in her books on where to find it in the event that any of her heirs and grandchildren possessed magic.

The place was beautiful. It was buried beneath an abandoned church of all places. It makes me laugh now that I'm an adult. The very place that worshipped the goddess and condemned those with magic was the very place where my magic was the strongest.

In the high priest's office was a bookshelf. The sixth book in on the sixth shelf from the floor triggered the wall to turn. Behind it was a stone staircase going down in a slow spiral. Thank goodness I was a Lycan, otherwise, it would be hard to make it down the steps in the purest form of darkness. Once inside, it was like the room knew that you were magical, and light illuminated like the sun, though you were hundreds of feet beneath the ground. Plants grew wildly green, and despite the darkness, thrived down there. There was a large shrine with a black wolf howling towards the ceiling, which was painted with an intricate design of the night sky. A large pool that had endless depth was in the center of the room. Tall pillars held up balconies that surrounded the pool, and I wondered if before the world feared magic, they gathered here to watch it in all of its glory.

The day my father brought me here changed my life. It was my sanctuary now and the only place that felt like home to me. My body felt light in there, almost like I was in a different realm. Maybe I was? Maybe this place wasn’t even real.... Just a figment of my imagination.

Nonetheless, my body itched with the need to be there at this moment. It seemed as if my magic was fueled by emotion. And negative emotions were the hardest. I felt out of control, which is something that I absolutely couldn’t be. If anyone found out about my magic, I would be burned at the stake.

Closing my eyes once again, I brought my palms together, squashing the flame. My skin burned slightly, but it felt nice. I welcomed the burn. It was a reminder that I still felt something.

“As long as you care, something will always hurt.” Such a simple quote, but I find myself holding onto it in moments like these. Pain can come in many forms, physical, mental, emotional, but each one reminds you that you’re not lost quite yet.

I noticed the sun was peeking through the window, signaling that hours had passed since I'd awoken restless.

It was about to be a very long day. I dreaded whatever my mother had to say. She never had my best interest at heart. Everything she did was to push her own agenda.

No need to delay the inevitable. I quickly dressed myself in something comfortable, which I’m sure she will speak ill of. Comfort is for sleeping, and even then, she would remind me that when I have a mate, my job was to please him. Make him feel as if I was trying ‘for’ him.

I wanted to vomit every time she spoke to me about that.

Walking down the dark and dreary halls, I began pulling the curtains open, allowing light to at least try to brighten the darkness.

The photos on the walls continued to stare at me with disappointment in their eyes.

“Why must you all stare with such disdain? I am doing my best....” I muttered to the pictures, but more to myself.

I was met with silence as I continued to my father’s office. My mother wouldn’t be in there yet, so I could enjoy sitting in there, smelling his scent, if only for a moment before it faded from existence.

The castle was silent outside of my footsteps as I quietly made my way to his door. I grabbed the handle, twisting softly, and hoping that the creaking wouldn’t signal to anyone that I was here. I wanted to have a little peace before hearing whatever my mother had to say.

Slipping between the cracks, I closed the door behind me, trying not to make a sound.

His scent hit me hard once the door was closed, and it took everything in me to fight the incoming emotions. I wanted to cry. To let out the pain that I’d been holding hostage in my heart since I learned of his death, but my mother would sniff out the tears. Coming in here to scold me about my weakness, and I didn’t feel like dealing with that.

Everything was perfectly organized here. The bookshelves were in alphabetical order. The desk had very few things on top of it. My father hated clutter. He always told me that clutter is too distracting if you actually want to get work done.

He’d hang his head in defeat when I’d giggle about it, knowing that I thrived in the chaos. My life was a disorganized mess.

I grabbed the small frame, looking at a family photo from many years ago. My mother was smiling, looking at my dad while Dallas and I were laughing at something the photographer had said. I’m not sure I’ve seen her smile like that since maybe this photo itself. She had never allowed us to meet her parents and I always wondered if it would explain why she was the way that she was.

My eyes welled with tears.

“Goddess, Lilliana. Can you spend one moment holding it together?” my mother groaned, walking into my father’s office.

“Can you spend one moment allowing me to grieve? I have had to bury my emotions for the sake of the kingdom...”

I knew I shouldn’t spark her anger right now. She proved yesterday that she wasn’t above putting her hands on me, and despite the fact that I was an adult, she was still my Queen and mother.

“You do understand that your emotions make you look weak? If the Kingdom senses that you are at a low point, they will exploit it and we just cannot afford that,” she raised a brow, showing off the wrinkles that had formed over the years from her incessant scowling.

My mind screamed at me to ask her what her obsession with weakness was. Why did it cause her so much turmoil for me to simply allow my human side to prevail?

“You have reminded me every single day since I could understand it.”

“And yet we are still having this conversation. You are a slow learner,” she chastised me, rolling her blue eyes.

I don’t want to learn how to be cold, mother. I want to learn how to fight. I want to learn how to be a good queen, a decent human being. I want to learn more about my magic. But I am stuck having her emotionally restrictive lessons shoved down my throat. All the things I wish I’d say, but never will. One must have a backbone for that, and I've not found mine.

“What was it that was so important, it needed discussed first thing this morning?”

My mother rolled her eyes, motioning for me to get up from my father’s chair. She sat down, opening a drawer and pulling out a roll of paper tied off with a crimson ribbon. I’ve seen enough of those to know it was a contract.

“I want you to propose this contract to Valtarin. Elliot would make for the perfect chosen mate. He is very handsome, and old enough to be ready to lead. If he agrees, you will take over as Queen, with Elliot as our new King,” she explained, pulling at the end of the ribbon to release the scroll.

She has to be kidding, right?

“Is this some sort of joke where you are trying to get me to show emotion?”

My mother chuckled dryly, “I am dead serious, Lilliana. You want to prove that you can be a worthy Queen, taking in the enemy’s son as a chosen mate will show that you are willing to do whatever it takes to lead.”

My mouth falls agape as she finishes speaking. She’s not joking.

“Father would never forgive me if I did this.”

A smirk spread on her face, “Your father is not here, now, is he?”

“This is absolutely ridiculous, mother. I will not be taking the enemy as my chosen. I am only nine months away from being able to find my goddess given mate. I want to wait.”

She gritted her teeth, “I didn’t ask you here to give you a choice, Lilliana. You will do as I say. I have scheduled a trip for you in three days. Sebastian will be accompanying you to speak with Elliot in Valtarin. He has agreed to hear you out.”

I’d like to shoot a fireball right into her smug face. In fact, one day I just might. She would deserve it.

“Can I study the contract before I arrive?”

My mother smiled, “Of course. You will find that I’ve made a very compelling agreement.” The way she spoke had my empty stomach churning wildly.

I snatched the scroll from her, turning and walking out without another word.

I hate her more than I’ve hated anything.

Heading to my room, I grabbed my bow and arrows, and rushed to the forest for some time alone.