Chapter 6

Amalthea's POV

The air in the room suddenly felt suffocating, and I didn't need a soothsayer to tell me that the Lycan King just stepped in.

Slowly I turned around, and saw a tall figure with an imposing presence at the door. I couldn't make out his face completely, but I could tell he was watching me intently.

Bam! He banged the door behind him, making me flinch and I instinctively tightened my hand around the alarm clock.

“D–don’t come any closer,” I stuttered as he took a step forward. I raised the alarm clock, positioning it like a weapon. Even though it was laughable that I'm holding up an alarm clock as a defense against the Lycan king, I still needed to defend myself.

“What do you think you're doing?” He asked, in a voice that sounded all too familiar.

I decided not to ponder on the familiarity of the voice and just focused on fighting him off in whatever way I can.

My heart skipped a beat as he took a step forward…then another, and another…and with each step my hand tightened around the alarm clock, my gaze fixed on his every move, until..

…He was close enough that I could feel his body heat.

I shut my eyes and held my breath, a cold shiver running down my spine. At this point it felt like if I breathed wrongly he'd snapped my neck.

Any form of rational thought flew out the window, and as if my hands had a mind of their own, I threw the alarm clock at his head.

Or at least, I tried to, because the alarm clock never made it to his face, as he held my wrist and scoffed.

“Really?” He scoffed, his warm breath fanning my forehead. “So you can defend yourself? Where was all this bravery and strength when the werebears attacked?”

I gulped. How did he know about the werebears….of course, Beta Callum.

He must have reported to him.

Speaking of Beta Callum, the Lycan King's voice sounded so much like his. I slowly opened my eyes, my gaze landing on his chest, and I left it there, as I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eyes.

I still couldn't make out his features in the dark, and for once I was grateful. I'm sure his face would be just as terrifying as his presence.

“You're not my type,” he muttered as he let go of my hand.

Not his type? I couldn't help the scoff that escaped my lips, as I glared at his retreating figure.

He was acting like I was throwing myself at him, and not actually forced into this.

I should have been relieved that he didn't find me attractive, and that meant he wouldn't force himself on me like I feared, but why do I feel insulted…disappointed, that's the right word.

I parted my lips to say something, but the sound of the door clicking shut, shut the words inside my mouth.

With a frustrated sigh, I put back the alarm clock on the stand.

“Asshole!” I cursed out loud, not minding if he or someone else could hear me.

Still seething with anger, I climbed into the bed, and yanked the cover over my body, and the moment my head hit the pillow, my anger melted into exhaustion, and within minutes m, I drifted into the deepest sleep I've had in days.

I woke up the next morning with every bone in my body feeling relaxed. Surprisingly my ankle doesn't hurt anymore. I went to the bathroom, and just as I stepped out and was about thinking how today was going to go–since I wasn't the Lycan King's type, a knock came on the door, and shortly after I answered, a young girl of probably 17 or 18 walked in, with some clothes in hand, a banana and juice on a tray in the other

She kind of reminds of Lara, even though I barely knew her, I knew she wasn't happy at that place–whatever it's called.

“Good morning,” the girl greeted, as she placed the tray with the banana and juice on the table, and made her way to the curtains and opened them.

I shut my eyes momentarily, shielding it from the harsh rays of the sun.

“These are for you,” she informed me, and placed the clothes on the bed.

“I'm I going somewhere?”

“Training,” she stated, and made her way to the bathroom.

“Training? For what exactly?” I couldn't help but ask. I was brought in here to be a breeder, so why I'm I expected to train?

“You need to eat something,” she stepped out of the bathroom, and gestured at the bananas and juice on the table. “Everyone is at the training grounds already, you're already five minutes late,” she muttered under her breath.

I decided not to ponder on it much, and just ate the bananas and drank the juice. Training wasn't really something I got involved in back at Blackfangs, but I knew training on an empty stomach wasn't a good thing.

After eating, I grabbed the clothes she brought me, a loose t-shirt and leggings, and put it on, before following the girl who's yet to tell me her name out.

The halls of the pack house were eerily quiet as we walked through them, the air cool and heavy with the scent of earth and the faintest trace of burning wood from the early morning fires. I was still reeling from everything that had happened. First the strange, heavy encounter with the Lycan king, then this sudden shift into a world I had never been a part of.

I barely noticed where I was walking, my mind too caught up in the whirlwind of confusion. It wasn’t until the sound of boots hitting the dirt and the distant murmur of voices reached my ears that I realized we had arrived at the training grounds.

The area was wide open, filled with thick grass and a few large boulders scattered around. A few pack members were already there, warming up, stretching, and preparing for the day’s training.

I stood frozen for a moment, observing the others, as I immediately felt out of place.

“You must be the breeder, Calluma talked about,” a voice said, pulling me off of my train of thoughts.

I looked in the direction the voice came from and I saw a tall woman with short black hair walking towards me with a smile on her face. She was dressed in light training gear, her muscles defined but not bulky.

“Hi, I'm Mikayla,” she stretched her hand for a hand shake. “I'm the Pack's Gamma.”

“Hello,” I muttered, accepting her handshake which turned out to be quite firm. “I'm Amalthea.”

“Welcome to Ravenclaw Pack. I'll be overseeing your training,” her words seemed to draw attention as all eyes were suddenly on me. Some person's already whispering amongst themselves.

I nodded in response, as I didn't know what to say.

“So tell me, how good are you and what’s your specialty?” she asked gingerly.

“Specialty?” I repeated, clearly unsure of what she's asking.

“I mean your strength,” she explained.

“Oh,” I muttered. “I don't really know, I've–”

“Don't worry, we'll figure that out,” she interjected. “Show me what you've got,” she took a stance. “Come at me.”

“Okay,” I mumbled awkwardly under my breath, and also took a stance myself, and balled my fist.

I could feel the eyes of the pack members on me, their stares like heat on my skin. Taking a deep breath, I threw a few punches into the air, trying to mimic the movements I had seen others do in passing. I had no experience with combat, and no training in the ways of the pack. I was just… out of place.

The moment I threw my first punch, I knew it wasn’t going to go well. My balance was off, and my form was weak. The movements felt unnatural and awkward.

“Is that really the best she can do?” I heard a few chuckles from the pack members on the sidelines. The whispers began, soft at first, but then growing louder.

I tried ignoring their voices, and throwing another punch, but instead I tripped over my own feet, and fell to the ground.

The Pack members burst out laughing, and at that point I just wished the ground would open up and swallow me.

“You all should be ashamed of yourself!” Mikayla barked, and they immediately fell silent. “Are you okay?” Mikayla was suddenly beside me.

“I'm fine,” I muttered, almost at the brink of tears.

Mikayla stretched forth her hand, offering to help me to my feet. “Sorry about their behavior–” she began, but then Beta Callum's voice echoed through the training grounds.

“We don't tolerate weaklings at Ravenclaw!” He said, his voice carrying so much authority that I felt a shiver down my spine.

From the corner of my eyes I could see as the rest of the Pack members immediately got in line.

My head was still buried to the ground, but I could see a black pair of boots step into the training field.

“Greetings Your Majesty,” they all said in unison.

Your Majesty? Why would they refer to Beta Callum as Your Majesty? Isn't that a title reserved for the Lycan King?

Trying to make sense of what I just heard, I raised my head slightly, and my eyes landed on Beta Callum's gray eyes.

My heart skipped a beat at the coldness they held in them. But just when I thought I had things figured out, Mikayla’s words and actions threw me into a state of more confusion.

“Welcome King Nicholson,” she bowed her head at Beta Callum.