Chapter 1
Karma
I pat the neck of the large white horse that I’m riding. Victory, my father’s horse. The only thing I have left that truly belonged to him. He snorts, and I see wisps of white emerge from his nostrils. It’s cold. Snow covers the landscape. This is foolhardy enough without the added obstacle of the coldest winter on record.
I only hope that my horse’s name is an omen, although I’ve never believed in such things.
This might be the last time that we ride together. It will be if my uncle has anything to do with it.
He’s not the king, but he may as well be. He has all the authority until I come of age. If I don’t make it, then he will be formally crowned as king as the only living relative of the former king, my father.
I glance behind me at the foot soldiers. They wait tentatively for my command.
They have no idea that I’m about to send them to their deaths. They have no idea that this is a suicide mission. All part of my uncle’s grand plan to get rid of me, so he can claim the throne for himself.
There is no proof, but I know the truth. My uncle murdered my father.
He poisoned him. Then he blamed a servant. My uncle was in charge of the interrogation, so he tortured the poor boy until he admitted it.
The servant had no reason to kill my father. No one did, except for my uncle Drake.
Even the werewolves who we are now at war with respected my father because he, in turn, respected them. Respected their ways, their territory and their borders.
My father had barely been cold in his grave before my uncle started a war with them.
That was two years ago. I had just turned eighteen, but the rules of the land say I cannot claim the throne until I turn twenty-one. So my uncle reigns as regent in my place.
When he told me I was to lead the army today, I knew exactly what was on his mind. He knows as well as I do that the werewolves are difficult if not impossible to kill.
If I had refused, I would have been labelled a coward, or worse, a traitor. Not fit to be their queen, and hung for my crime.
I had no choice but to agree.
My only hope is that I can kill the alpha today. He is their king and their leader.
I’ve trained with my weapon of choice since I was fourteen. The bow. Not that I expected I would ever use it in anger. My father would turn in his grave if he knew I was about to go to war with the people he made peace with.
According to my uncle, they are not even human. They are beasts and monsters and need to be destroyed.
Now that my father is no more, I have to obey the interim steward of the crown, my Uncle Drake.
I look towards the treeline as flakes of snow begin to fall. I used to think snowflakes were pretty, but that was before my father died. My days of seeing the beauty in things have long passed. Something else I have my uncle to thank for.
The wolves know we’re here. I can almost sense the hundreds of eyes in the forest staring at me. They won’t make the first move, even though we’re in their territory. They have the advantage of knowing the forest layout, but because they won’t come to us, we have to go to them.
I raise my hand and issue a stark warning.
“Remember, the only way to end their lives is to remove their heads.”
That is not strictly true. The silver arrows that I have in my quiver will kill as well, but the blades that my soldiers carry are made of simple steel. The way that shifters heal will make them next to useless, but not even a werewolf can grow another head.
I issue the command which will send these men to their doom, and mine along with it.
“Advance.”
I don’t need to look behind me to know that the soldiers are starting to march. The sound of thousands of heavy boots crunching on the snow-covered ground would deaden the sound of any early morning birdsong if there was any.
Animals know when danger is abroad, and they stay away. The Werewolves will hear the advance, and they will be ready.
They are half-animals, after all, so they have the enhanced senses that animals have. Even if most of the time they appear in human form.
Today they will not be in human form, though. When they fight, they fight in their beast form with lethal claws and teeth at their disposal. The armour the soldiers wear won’t provide that much protection. These men are disposable pawns, after all. If my uncle had intended them to survive, he would have provided them with heavier metal armour. Armour that would stop the claws that are as sharp as any blade. The leather armour that the soldiers wear doesn’t really stand a chance.
As I reach the edge of the treeline, I see them. Wolves that are the size of a small pony.
Saliva drips from their fangs and their eyes are pitch black. Their coats are varying shades of brown and grey. The alpha isn’t among them. I leave the soldiers to engage the beasts that wait. They aren’t my prey. My prey is the Alpha.
We outnumber the shifters probably about ten to one, but that doesn’t seem to be in our favour. The screams of my men and the metallic smell in the air tell me that their blades are next to useless.
I see a flash of white ahead. The alpha. Only high alphas have white coats which only they can pass on to their offspring. It makes the line from the first alpha king unbreakable, as only a high alpha can be crowned as king of the shifters.
Rumour has it the current king has yet to produce an heir. If he dies without an heir, it will throw the werewolf population into chaos. They will need to challenge each other to find a new king. That’s what my uncle Drake has told everyone. Whether it is true or not remains to be seen. He’s told so many lies to cement his position. This could just be another one.
***Flashback***
I stand in front of my uncle; he stands behind a large mahogany desk. A desk that used to belong to my father. A map is sprawled across the top and he points to an area of forest. He jabs it with his fingers.
“Here. This is where we will strike, and you—”
He removes his finger from the map and points at me.
“You shall lead our army.”
He folds his arms across his chest and smirks. Waiting for me to refuse. I won’t. I have no intention of making his claim to the throne that easy.
I do think about it. Think about the possibility of saving the numerous men that will probably fall in this foolhardy venture, but I know that he will send them, anyway. Either with me leading them, or some other officer who doesn’t dare to say no to the man who is leading our country to ruin.
So I say nothing. I just wait for him to continue.
He narrows his eyes and his jaw clenches. I want to smirk, but I don’t. I’ve annoyed him, but this is a hollow victory. Too many people will die today, myself included.
He folds his arms across his chest, and the smirk is back. He hasn’t finished with me yet.
“You have one task, and one task only. You are to kill their king. The white wolf.”
I swallow nervously. We all know that shifters are strong. That normal weapons won’t kill them easily, but no one really knows that much about the royal line of werewolves. I wonder if this king can even be killed.
I nod anyway because I don’t have a choice.
“I will do my best,” I state solemnly.
I won’t give him any excuse to call me a coward or traitor.
***End of Flashback***
I dig my heels into Victory’s flanks and he gallops towards the flash of white that I thought I saw.
Grabbing the reins between my teeth, I ready my bow and pull an arrow out of the quiver which hangs on my back.
I guide him with my legs and by shifting my weight left and right as we weave through the trees. Then I see him, the huge white wolf. He stares at us for a split second, and that’s all the time I need to loose the arrow from my bow.
Perhaps luck is with me today. Perhaps when I return, I’ll be the one who’s smirking at my Uncle Drake.
