Ceres“Papa! Papa! I think I have something!” I squeak. My little body wiggling, unable to control the overwhelming excitement that has washed over me. My tiny childish hands reach for my father, precariously balancing in the small rowboat. “Shhh! Hush. You will scare away all the fish.” He says gently. His heavy hands lovingly placed on my shoulders, calming me instantly. “You have plenty of time to make waves in your life, you need not do it when we are trying to fish.” He gently scolds. “Yes, papa.”“Now, let’s check that line. Reel it in gently but steady, then flick to set the hook.” He demonstrates the process on his own rod. I begin to reel it in, quietly squealing with glee, pulling it in as my father had shown me many times before. Springtime on the lake, learning to live off the land. “You must be able to provide for yourself.” That is what my father would say when I would complain about waking before the sun. Early morning on the lake is what heaven must be like. The w
“Breakfast is already in your chambers.” Phoebe reassures, her delicate hand still clasping mine. “Thank you, Priestess Phoebe. I appreciate your consideration.” We fall into a comfortable silence. The floors of the temple are cold on my naked feet, my soles made soft and delicate by the last month of wearing shoes. I am only steps away from being a Princess, living a fairytale and touring the Kingdom. I cannot help but feel tragedy lurking in the shadows. A beast so insidious, patiently waiting to strike at your most triumphant moment. The climb up the social ladder feels like a climb that ends with me jumping to my death. I breathe deeply and allow the sound of our swishing robes lull me into calmness. I am greeted by the smell of breakfast when the door to my room is opened. “Such a feast!” I squeal like an excited child. “Your eyes are bigger than your stomach.” Phoebe scolds. “Then join me, priestess. There is more than enough for us both.”“Thank you, m’lady.”The formalit
Your highness. I suppose it is better than being a slave, though your name is surrendered just the same. Instead of no one caring to know your name they are forbidden to speak it, it’s traded in for formal titles. This elevation does not bring freedom, rather luxurious chains, forced to follow antiquated traditions. It is not the same as being an actual slave though. To compare it as such is a denigration. A lie. One cannot be both slave and master, though it seems even masters have masters to bow to. The breakfast I consumed without having to perform any labor only underscores my place in the pecking order, now far above the one I used to enjoy. I struggle to enjoy my new position when Dmitry has been left behind. I should rest though. I am to be a bride today. The wedding is less about me and more about the future of the monarchy. The continuation of Malakai’s line through history. I am only the womb used to usher in this future greatness. The wedding itself is largely performat
I hear a soft rapping at my door. I tear myself from the sheets like a petulant child, stomping towards the doorway. The warmth of my bed calling to me. I don’t think I’m ready to be shoved into a bath and corseted into a gown. I feel as if I have not even shut my eyes, let alone gotten any rest. “I’m coming.” I say, in a decidedly grumpy voice. I put the most sincerest grumpy tired face expression that I can muster, and open the door. “What?” The hallway is empty. I cannot even hear distant footsteps of maids and servants performing their daily task list. A list that starts the moment their eyes open and does not end again until they close. The realization washes over me with shame. I think back to the endless hours, scrubbing dishes, scrubbing floors, standing over hot stoves. I looked to my arms to see all the faint scars I have accumulated over my years. Each one with their own story. The time I sliced my hand open or when I burnt myself on the edge of a pot because I wasn’t t
"Three hundred years ago, the people of the lands were engaged in a Great War. There was famine and violence. The people suffered greatly as the noble houses of the realm fought for overall leadership.” The firelight danced in my father’s eyes as he began to weave his story. On Saturday nights we would BBQ and sit around the fire pit and tell stories. “The people of the realm struggled to feed their children as the fields of the realm burned with the bodies of fallen men. The alphas of each house had become corrupt and only cared about their own selfish needs. After centuries of the packs governing as a panel to fulfill the needs of the people, it had warped into padding the wealth of the alpha at the expense of all others. This of course led to a gridlock on the panel. Absolutely nothing could be agreed upon.” He leaned in closer to the fire and the flames danced in the center of us. “It became common place to kill alphas and their children and install new alphas in the hopes of ga
It’s hard to remember a time without hunger and hardship. Working my fingers to the bone and eating scraps. “Ceres!” My mother bellowed. “Ceres, come here this instant!”My body ached as I rose from the floor. It was Tuesday, which meant scrubbing the kitchen floors. My life was a series of chores, an endless routine both mundane and exhausting. Repetitive. I dried my hands on my apron and ran towards my mother’s impatient calls. “Yes, ma’am?” I quietly said with my eyes averted. I didn’t dare look her in the eyes. “We will have guests tonight. Keep Dmitry out of sight.” She says his name like she is spitting a curse. “Dinner is to be ready promptly at 7, service for 7.” It’s almost as if saying his name causes her physical discomfort. “Dinner must follow the menu I left in the dining room. I also left a menu for the next morning’s breakfast. Maristela is in charge of the table settings and will aid you in service this evening. All the footman will be prepared to serve. All the ma
Five years ago, mother married Osiris. He took my father’s title as Alpha of the Harvest Moon Pack. Tradition dictates that any children of a deceased alpha are to be exiled upon the eldest child's 18th birthday moon ceremony. The eldest child may challenge the current alpha for the title instead of accepting exile. To challenge an alpha is to fight to the death. So tradition says I choose exile for myself and Dmitry, or I probably die fighting Osiris. I never imagined that this would be my life. I have accepted that in two months my moon ceremony will happen. The moon ceremony is the first full moon after your 18th birthday. This is when your mate is most visible to your wolf. A kingdom wide ball is held and each person who recently turned 18 is introduced to the entire kingdom of wolves that are of age and without mates. This is really the only time you are able to see all the packs of the realm. Many find their mates at the ball. If I find my mate I can take my place in society.
I scanned the menu. Most of the items were already in the pantry, but a few would require a trip to town. I had developed my skills as a cook over these last six years. It was part of my earning my keep. It was something I actually enjoyed. Taking the foods harvested from the garden and from the farm and turning them into delicious meals brought me so much joy. I reveled in creating new delights. These items must be the favorite of the crown prince and his family. Royal tastes are so pretentious. I much prefer a simple meal of bread and stew. These menus do allow me to practice my cooking skills so I appreciate them for that. “How late do you think we will be working tonight?” Groaned Maristela. Maristela was my best and only friend. She was an omega by birth and worked the kitchens along side me all these years. “Does work ever end?” I ask. “I heard the the Crown Prince was coming tonight. Alpha is hoping to pair Horus with his daughter. They are barely 6. It’s ridiculous.”
I hear a soft rapping at my door. I tear myself from the sheets like a petulant child, stomping towards the doorway. The warmth of my bed calling to me. I don’t think I’m ready to be shoved into a bath and corseted into a gown. I feel as if I have not even shut my eyes, let alone gotten any rest. “I’m coming.” I say, in a decidedly grumpy voice. I put the most sincerest grumpy tired face expression that I can muster, and open the door. “What?” The hallway is empty. I cannot even hear distant footsteps of maids and servants performing their daily task list. A list that starts the moment their eyes open and does not end again until they close. The realization washes over me with shame. I think back to the endless hours, scrubbing dishes, scrubbing floors, standing over hot stoves. I looked to my arms to see all the faint scars I have accumulated over my years. Each one with their own story. The time I sliced my hand open or when I burnt myself on the edge of a pot because I wasn’t t
Your highness. I suppose it is better than being a slave, though your name is surrendered just the same. Instead of no one caring to know your name they are forbidden to speak it, it’s traded in for formal titles. This elevation does not bring freedom, rather luxurious chains, forced to follow antiquated traditions. It is not the same as being an actual slave though. To compare it as such is a denigration. A lie. One cannot be both slave and master, though it seems even masters have masters to bow to. The breakfast I consumed without having to perform any labor only underscores my place in the pecking order, now far above the one I used to enjoy. I struggle to enjoy my new position when Dmitry has been left behind. I should rest though. I am to be a bride today. The wedding is less about me and more about the future of the monarchy. The continuation of Malakai’s line through history. I am only the womb used to usher in this future greatness. The wedding itself is largely performat
“Breakfast is already in your chambers.” Phoebe reassures, her delicate hand still clasping mine. “Thank you, Priestess Phoebe. I appreciate your consideration.” We fall into a comfortable silence. The floors of the temple are cold on my naked feet, my soles made soft and delicate by the last month of wearing shoes. I am only steps away from being a Princess, living a fairytale and touring the Kingdom. I cannot help but feel tragedy lurking in the shadows. A beast so insidious, patiently waiting to strike at your most triumphant moment. The climb up the social ladder feels like a climb that ends with me jumping to my death. I breathe deeply and allow the sound of our swishing robes lull me into calmness. I am greeted by the smell of breakfast when the door to my room is opened. “Such a feast!” I squeal like an excited child. “Your eyes are bigger than your stomach.” Phoebe scolds. “Then join me, priestess. There is more than enough for us both.”“Thank you, m’lady.”The formalit
Ceres“Papa! Papa! I think I have something!” I squeak. My little body wiggling, unable to control the overwhelming excitement that has washed over me. My tiny childish hands reach for my father, precariously balancing in the small rowboat. “Shhh! Hush. You will scare away all the fish.” He says gently. His heavy hands lovingly placed on my shoulders, calming me instantly. “You have plenty of time to make waves in your life, you need not do it when we are trying to fish.” He gently scolds. “Yes, papa.”“Now, let’s check that line. Reel it in gently but steady, then flick to set the hook.” He demonstrates the process on his own rod. I begin to reel it in, quietly squealing with glee, pulling it in as my father had shown me many times before. Springtime on the lake, learning to live off the land. “You must be able to provide for yourself.” That is what my father would say when I would complain about waking before the sun. Early morning on the lake is what heaven must be like. The w
Theia The air is crisp, the dew covers the ground and little droplets stick to my fur like tiny little pearls. Running in this form is so freeing. I wish it could always be just like this. “Catch me if you can!” I call as I weave through the branches and mossy stones. I do not even see his form, a shadow in the darkness, when he pounces on me and we roll down a small embankment. “Gotcha!” He gleefully remarks. The heat from his body presses against mine and I do not struggle or squirm under him. I am content to be here in his snare. “I didn’t even see you!” “Did you say that you owe me a wish? Do I now have two?” “No! I made no promise of another wish granted. I do owe you one though, so choose wisely.” He looks deeply into my eyes. “Yes. I will have to be thoughtful in what I choose.” I could get lost in his golden orbs. The fire in his stare. His darkness to my light. “We should go. The sun is already threatening to break the horizon. Dawn is here, it is o
Theia “The sun will rise soon.” I murmur. I stretch my legs out lazily. “We can speak of magic some other time.”“Some other time.” Erebus parrots back. His voice slow and lazy, as if considering the next possible occasion. “You are not lying if we agree to keep what has happened between us.” I say, breaking the silence between us. “That is quite literally called lying by omission.” “No, it’s keeping something sacred between us.”“You can dress a sow in silk gown, but that will not make her a Queen. Just because you call it something else doesn’t make it something else.”“Two things can be true.” “Yes, I suppose. That doesn’t mean it sits right with me.”“Oracles are not the Goddess. There is no guarantee that my mark will even look as the book tells it.”“Your optimism knows no bounds.” He quips sarcastically. “We pledged ourselves to one another. This bond is above all others. Period.” I growl, his insistence on calling me out is getting under my skin. No one wants an honest a
CeresDarkness can swallow you whole. The void of nothingness. I cannot even see Theia or Asteria anymore. Their thoughts are shielded from me, yet I can feel the veil thinning. I can feel my resurgence, my resurrection into my physical form. It is coming, I can feel the electricity in the air. “Ceres!”A voice calls to me from the abyss of nothingness surrounding me. I do not recognize the call. It is not Asteria or Theia’s voice calling. No one else should be here. “Come my child, come to my voice.”I have read enough fairytales to be suspicious of mystery voices calling from the dark. Their honeyed calls disguise their horrific intentions. Harpies calling from the cliffs, lulling you to your death. Do such creatures lurk in this place, this in between space, where I have no control? I am just a battered ship being tossed around the sea, only to steer myself into a rocky grave, calling to me so sweetly from beyond my vision. I will not blindly go towards the faceless voice in the
Theia“There is no affection in power. Power consumes all and no price is too high to pay to keep it. Edward may believe that his Grandfather’s love for him is unconditional, but I am not so naive.” Erebus growls. “Any threat to the King’s power will be eliminated. Period.”The truth weighs heavy. Silence settles within the cave. “Will the Immaculate Mother reveal the truth to the King?” I ask after a long bout of silence. “You said it yourself. Information you do not know, but want; is valuable.”“I have not read the myths of this prophecy. The Oracle Chronicle of the First King. I believe that is what the Immaculate Mother called it. Have you or Edward studied this?” “Edward is aware of all the sacred texts of the Kingdom. He has spent his entire life preparing to be King.”“What will he do when he discovers that I am the defender of the faith? Destined to fight in a battle and be the savior of the Kingdom? Will he see that as treason and address accordingly?”“I would like to sa
Asteria “Your majesty, I beg your forgiveness and show of mercy!” The man splayed on the marble floor before us is dressed in tattered rags. His pants are cinched tightly with a belt made of woven fibers tattered with filth and age. His shirt is worn thin where the fabric rests upon his jagged bones, patches along the sleeves and shoulders create a haphazard mishmash of colors and textures with no discernible pattern. I stand a few steps above him, Prince Aares on a throne at the top of the stairs of the pedestal behind me. He must always be above, both figuratively and literally. I am simply a silent statuette, an observer of the tragic comedy before me, an ornament placed before the Prince, his child bride blooming in front of the court in realtime. My unflinching gaze witnessing the violence and cruelty. There was never any mercy to be found here. “Is it true that you hunted a stag in the woods?” Prince Aares questions. I already know the outcome of this. There is nothing sp