Weakness

“I am the future Queen!”

“And yet you are still not enough,” my mother growled, flashing her wolf’s golden eyes. The way her insults rolled off of her so easily was like a knife to the heart.

“I can’t believe you.”

“Lilliana, you are fragile. You let your emotions control how you lead, and that is not acceptable,” she retorted, her face scrunched up in disgust.

Roughly wiping the tears from my face, I scowled at her. Didn’t she know how much I hated crying in front of her? How much did I despise the natural act of having emotions? I had just learned that my father is dead. He was murdered, on our lands, and there are no suspects. My father was far too strong to just fall at the hands of anyone. There was a reason they called him the Almighty King. He was one of the fiercest Lycans in all four kingdoms. While he led with kindness, he held our people to a certain standard. Trained our warriors to be the best. My mother, Coralynn, was trained in the art of being an absolute bitch. She was dubbed the Ice Queen amongst our Kingdom. If only our people knew how she treated her own children behind closed doors.

“Nymeria will fall without his leadership.”

My mother stalked over towards me, her form that of regal perfection. She grabbed my face roughly in her hands. Her ridiculously long nails dug into my face, and I fought the urge to wince. She didn’t like when I showed weakness in her presence, and pain, was a form of weakness, “Nymeria will be fine if you could ignore your pain. A woman is meant to stand by a man and save face. You have the ability to lead, but you consistently allow your emotions to get in the way. Our kingdom doesn’t need your weakness and I will not hesitate to throw you out,” she muttered, glaring at me, “You will not disappoint me, isn’t that right, Lilliana?”

I gritted my teeth until I was sure they would crumble from the force, “Yes, mother.” She didn’t know how quickly I could kill her with one thought. But then everyone would know what I am.

She shook my face before releasing me from her grip, “Good. Now clean yourself up, you look ridiculous with your makeup smeared from those disgusting tears. You will stand before the kingdom and address your father’s death. Do not let me down.”

She turned around without another word, stomping away, and leaving me alone in my room.

I allowed myself to crumble once her footsteps retreated. My body fell to the floor, landing roughly on my knees. The weight of my mother’s crushing presence weighing heavy on me tonight. How does one just.... not feel? I loved my father. He was everything to me. I would feel pain for even my mother, who is an absolute atrocity of a woman.

I always wondered how my father put up with her for all of this time. He was so kind and gentle where she was just downright cold. She refused to show emotions, claiming they were a weakness. She raised me to be her predecessor, the Ice Queen is what they call her, but that was never who I wanted to be.

The lines in my head were far too blurred when it came to family. Nothing is thicker than blood, right? But every day with my mother was another day closer to shattering that reality.

My father treated me with respect. He showed me love and kindness. He treated everyone in the kingdom the same, no matter who you were. Human, werewolf, or Lycan, you were treated with equal respect, and it was something that I had admired.

I would never understand the moon goddess’ decision to pair the two of them together.

Despite her coldness, he loved her fiercely. Every time she treated me poorly, and I would cry or break, he would tell me stories of their early days together. Fairytales where she was sweet and kind. But at some point, that ended, and she was replaced by a bitter, cold woman who couldn’t be bothered to show her children warmth.

My elder brother died three years ago, and not even that broke her. I never once saw her shed a single tear. Her own son, the child she had given birth to, and she refused to break from that “perfect” image.

That was the moment that I was absolutely convinced that my mother’s heart was in fact, made of ice. Or non-existent.

Dallas was the best brother. He was a good man, and so close to taking over for my father when he was attacked patrolling our lands. It caused an even bigger rift between Nymeria and Valtarin, the kingdom that bordered our lands to the West. He was killed near their territory and my father was convinced that King Augustus Lakin was involved, but without proof, we couldn’t bring the matter to the council.

Augustus has twin sons, Emmet and Elliot Lakin. It surprised all four of the kingdoms when Emmet found his mate, but she was not Elliot’s mate. He took the throne solely, accepting his title without Elliot, though they were both entitled to lead together. Maybe they will someday... It’s not any of my concern.

Thankfully, Valtarin was the only kingdom that we were not on friendly terms with. Kyrith was indifferent. Their King, Logan Torino, was a fair man, but uninterested in getting involved with matters that didn’t directly involve his kingdom. Their people trained hard so that they would be prepared in the event of war. Choosing not to become an ally protected them from having to send valued warriors to other territories for protection. I couldn’t blame him, but he better hope that there is never another war of the witches. They wouldn’t survive alone, despite their numbers and strength.

Xantha was our ally, and directly coveted supernatural beings that were not of werewolf and lycanthrope descent. Dragons, fairies, Faes, you name it, they live in Xantha.

Each kingdom is surrounded by a wall and guarded heavily. No one is supposed to make it in or out. It protected those on the inside as well as keep everyone else on the outside.

Walking into my attached bathroom, I took a deep breath, staring at my reflection. My mother was right about one thing; I looked like a mess. My green eyes were red-rimmed and puffy from crying for the last twelve hours straight. They looked brighter surrounded by the redness that had bled through white. I didn’t sleep a wink after receiving the news about my father, and I’ve got the dark circles to prove it. It doesn’t really help that I didn’t bother washing off the remnants of yesterday’s mascara, which is now smeared around my eyes like a raccoon. I also neglected to unbraid my hair from yesterday, and it’s looking more like a chestnut-colored rats-nest versus hair fit for a princess.

“A princess,” I scoffed at my reflection. Staring, I tried to force the pain down, swallowing the lump that formed in my throat. My heart was shattered, and I stood here, trying to pretend as if it remained whole. The pain consumed me, spreading through my veins like a sickness infecting my body with its plague, “You disgust me,” I screamed at my reflection, watching my face etch with pain. Every failure that has added a notch to my never-ending belt filled my head all at once. The silence around me was deafening, but the thoughts in my head were loud and clear.

Lilianna. The wannabe princess. Never good enough for anyone, except herself. And even that was questionable.

The necklace my father gave me glistened against my chest. Reaching up, I rolled it gently between my fingers. The beautiful emerald sparkled beneath the bathroom lighting, “I miss you so much,” I whispered, feeling a stray tear slide down my raw cheek.

I made quick work to untangle my hair before a quick shower. I didn’t have time to waste. Mother would be waiting.

After I’d scrubbed the evidence of my failures off of my face, I climbed out, closing my eyes, and imagining two Dutch braids and a soft face of makeup. When I opened my eyes, they were perfectly done, bringing me the first form of happiness I’d felt in over twenty-four hours. I didn't use my abilities often, because it was a risk, but I don’t have the patience or energy to make myself look beautiful today.

Now, I needed to come up with the perfect robotic speech to make my mother proud.

It was awful to think about, but I hated her. She was the bane of my existence. A thorn in my ass. Her prickly personality was one that I couldn’t stand, but had to tolerate until I took my title, which she refused to allow until I meet my mate or take in a chosen that she approves of. As a Lycan, we are able to finally sense our mates at twenty-one years old. I’ve only got nine months left.

Nine. Excruciatingly. Long. Months.

She doesn’t know me. Not in the slightest. My father was the one who took the time to learn the things that brought a smile to my face. The things that I didn’t care for. Foods I enjoyed. Activities that I was good at. My father knew my heart.

He actually cared about me. But now.....he’s gone, and I’m left with the monster I call my mother.

‘Lilly, you are special, dear. Do not let anyone dull your shine,’ he’d say.

My response was always the same, “Why don’t you tell mother that?”

‘She just wants you to be the strongest woman you can be. But I want you to be the kindest and fiercest. Can we meet in the middle, and you just be all three?’ my father would respond with a smile.

I was going to miss him. My heart ached with his absence. But I wasn’t allowed to grieve. Mother wouldn’t allow it. I would have to grieve in silence, wearing a mask to make it through these dark days.

How do you not even cry a tear over your mate? I know for a fact that her eyes didn’t even water because her insides were made of fucking ice. Even the hottest summers couldn’t melt through her cold, hard exterior. Therefore, she remained stone cold.

I don’t even think she felt pain when their souls separated. That is supposed to be as excruciating as death itself. Your mate was your other half. The missing piece to your soul. Once you find them, your mind is chemically altered and being without them is supposed to drive you mad.

Maybe it was simpler than that. She could be a robot.... that would honestly make more sense. Robots don’t have feelings; they just do what they are meant to do. Hers was programmed to make my life a living hell.

Flopping back onto my bed, I pinched the bridge of my nose. My mind felt blank as I tried to consider what the hell I was going to say to my people. It needed to be short and sweet. I couldn’t risk tears falling. My mother would surely make the remainder of my day hell if my eyes even glass over.

How do you come up with a speech, to address your people about the passing of their beloved King, without it being emotional?

“Fucking hell, mother. Why do you do this to me? You expect the impossible.....” I muttered to myself.

I’m not even the Queen yet. She doesn’t think I’m worthy without a man by my side to take her throne. And even then, she probably wouldn’t consider me worthy. She would consider the man by my side worthy.

I laughed to myself. She’s got another thing coming. My man better be ready to lead beside me. I refuse to stand beneath him in my own kingdom.

I heard footsteps coming down the hallway towards my room before I smelled him, my dirty little secret.