Chapter 1
DEVON
Axon!
I tried reasoning with my wolf, but my mind had relinquished full control to Axon. I could feel his paws slicing through the air, skillfully dodging the branches and twigs littering the forest floor. A shroud of snow still covered parts of the spring ground, and my wolf reveled in its cold touch.
The dim twilight was gradually darkening the landscape, but it still spread a pleasant golden light throughout the forest. I inhaled deeply, absorbing the fresh scent of pine and wildflowers, savoring the damp touch of the thick humus. I listened closely to the forest’s response to the wind, a peaceful echo that contrasted with the turmoil in my heart.
I was approaching the Northern Territories. I knew I had to turn back, but I wanted to forget all the blood, forget the blood-soaked floor covering the main hall of the pack house. I kept replaying images of my father’s mutilated and disemboweled body. At that thought, a low growl echoed through the forest. I barely avoided the rough bark of a tree and the twisted roots in my path. I blinked rapidly, as if that simple act could erase those fragments of memories from my mind. But what hurt the most was the memory of my mother. My mother, lying next to my father, foam at the corners of her mouth, her eyes bloodshot.
The low-hanging branches, adorned with fine dew droplets, lashed at my fur. I plunged even deeper into this landscape of greenery and snow, where the interplay of shadows seemed to cradle and envelop me.
I had briefly heard Alfric utter the word “aconite.” She must have been forced to ingest a massive amount because my mother, Tessaïa, the queen of the Lycans, had a resistance to poisons far superior than the regular wolves.
I shook my head and growled, chasing the still-too-fresh memory from my mind. Axon was leading me deeper into the forest. The rustling of animals fleeing from my presence thrilled me. The sun’s rays, now barely filtering through the canopy, blurred my nocturnal senses.
The pack’s beta, Greyson, had been trying to connect with me for hours, but I kept pushing him away. I knew what he was going to say, what he expected from me. But I wasn’t ready to take the reins of the pack. I didn’t have my father’s presence; I wasn’t a great strategist like him. I was only 20, and all these expectations weighed on me. I didn’t have the makings of a king. And yet, I would have to assume those responsibilities.
Axon!
My wolf growled in response. The ground momentarily slipped from under my feet. Axon barely jumped over a massive crevasse. The vast stretch of bare trees, untouched by man or wolf, unfolded before me, beyond the borders of the Earth of Lycans. And before this scene, I completely surrendered, laying all my will at Axon’s feet.
It wasn’t until the following day, at dawn, that I finally regained full control of my body. I was lying in the forest, completely naked. Steam escaped from my mouth with each breath. I could hear the steady beating of my heart, yet I felt lifeless, incapable of moving.
Devon? Can you hear me?
It was Donavan, the beta’s son and my best friend. I didn’t know if I wanted to talk to him. I didn’t know if I wanted to talk to anyone. I finally decided to cut the mental connection, pressing my hands over my face.
I crouched beside the lake at my side, splashing water onto my face. Its icy touch made me shiver, awakening my senses somewhat. I heard the snap of frozen twigs near me. My hearing sharpened quickly, and I crouched to move stealthily; there was no way I would let Axon take over again. I felt the drops of water falling one by one from my tangled hair. I parted the foliage of a shrub, a bit of snow falling silently at my feet. Everything was calm. Strangely too calm. I scanned the surroundings, but there was no sign of life until my eyes landed on a slimy object near me. My fingers brushed it, and I picked it up, stretching it out in front of me. The substance resembled a scaly, waxy skin.
A piercing scream echoed, and I looked up, the blood draining somewhat from my face. I had never seen one before, but I already knew what it was. I dared not move before the young woman with devastating looks. Her long golden hair swept over her shoulders as her feline eyes scrutinized me, menacing.
“Tum lahal mêk’haé,” she sang, her hand reaching out toward me, a finger beckoning me to follow her.
A Selkie. A creature of the freshwater expanses stood before me. And I held her skin. Without it, she would be unable to return to her habitat. My father had often warned me of the dangers of Selkies, mythical creatures as old as the world who sometimes came to our shores to enchant men—and sometimes women. Once under their spell, the captives were drawn to the depths of the sea, drowned, and then devoured. Selkies definitely did not have a good reputation, though some stories told of marine rescues by these creatures. Generally, they were the beings described to scare children from venturing near wild lakes.
“I mean you no harm,” I said, as unthreatening as possible, though Axon was growling inside me.
The creature took a step forward, inevitably reducing the space between us, her hand still extended toward me, in a feline stride.
Give it back to me, king of Lycans.
The Selkie’s deep, enchanting voice resonated in my mind.
Keeping the Selkie’s skin would have been entirely to my advantage. She would be condemned to obey my will; otherwise, her skin would be burned, and she would be forced to roam our lands, unable to return home. At my hesitation, she took another step forward. Her eyes, though menacing, also showed fear.
Without a word and without breaking eye contact, I laid the skin before me, stepping back a few paces. The Selkie’s defensive stance slightly evaporated. She straightened up, proud, swaying her hips just before me. Without breaking her gaze, she touched the skin at my feet with her fingertips, and, as if by magic, it evaporated.
When I looked up again to observe the Selkie, the young woman with irresistible charm had disappeared. Instead, a humanoid creature stood before me, her eyes glassy, soft and peaceful, her skin bluish, almost translucent, like a delicate veil covering her body. Another cry rang out, and I caught sight of her long, sharp teeth. My heart skipped a beat. Her webbed hands, at the ends of which long claws extended, moved in a dance of natural grace. She was definitely no longer the enchanting creature but rather the aquatic monster of the stories my father told. Every movement was imbued with a disturbing serenity.
The Selkie slowly waded into the water, her back to me, as if she trusted me enough not to keep her gaze on me. The dark water swallowed her completely. I remained motionless for a few minutes, watching the slow ripples of the stagnant water. The ripples revived a few minutes later, and three heads barely emerged from the water. The sight was frankly terrifying. Only their deformed skulls, partially devoid of hair, and their glassy, misty eyes rose from the water, in a most ominous synchronized dance.
A favor, my king. And the debt will be paid.
In a synchronized movement, the three Selkies disappeared. And I stood there, my breath misting in the air, uncertain of the path that now lay ahead. Spring, the symbol of renewal, suddenly took on a new meaning as I sprinted toward a future still fragile.
