The queen strikes again. Fireball after fireball came hurdling towards Kendall so fast she can barely keep up. As she glides side to side trying to harness enough power to throw one of her own she gets hit down onto the training mat.
“Get up, and try again. You need to be faster!” Queen Sabra is infuriated. Kendall isn’t trying hard enough, at this rate she will never be strong enough to be alpha. But the queen had the perfect person in mind to whip her granddaughter into shape.
“I would be able to keep up if you weren’t aiming for my head!” Kendall is on the ground, waiting as her side slowly closes and heals the burnt flesh into new soft skin. Another outfit ruined, just great!
The queen is furious now. Screaming at the ignorant child in front of her. “You think your opponent will be nice and aim somewhere else? You think when the war starts the enemy won’t aim for right in between your eyes. You are a naive child.” She spits at the girl. “How do you expect to do well at the ball if this is how you are in training?”
The dreaded witch's ball is coming up in a few weeks and Kendall has until then to get ready and present herself to the witches council. The witches hold the ball every five years to evaluate the strength and beauty of their creations. Witches treat the fiaras (Beast in Romanian) like slaves still. 1000 years later and we are still under their rule. Their twisted cruel rule. The ball is also the only opportunity to find new fiaras and potential pack mates for Kendall. A fiara is half fairy and halfwerewolf, so they prefer to live in packs. Fairies and werewolves are by nature not able to procreate. But 1000 years ago a very powerful coven of witches decided that they wanted to change that. During a great war, they decided to create their own soldiers. Beasts that could heal rapidly on the battlefield but weren’t bonded to the phase of the moon.
Kendall growled. “I am more powerful than all of those weak and pathetic princesses Sabra and you know it!”
Like the wind, Sabra was in front of Kendall with her hand crushing her windpipe. Queen Sabra looked straight into Kendall’s eyes. “Watch your tongue girl, I AM YOUR QUEEN!”
Going against every bone in her body, Kendall bowed her head and whispered through clenched teeth. “Yes, my queen.”
“Sabra! Leave the poor girl alone, she’s had enough for today don’t you think?” A young woman walked in, her head held high like she owned the damn place. She looked pointedly at Sabra, the witch's power flashing through her eyes. But Sabra didn’t back down, pushing her dominance over the entire training room. Everyone stopped what they were doing and bowed down before they could understand what was happening. She looked into the witch's eyes with nothing but defiance. The witch chuckled and whispered something under her breath. In an instant, all the fiaras were withering in pain on the floor. Clutching their heads as a migraine appeared out of nowhere. memories of fear and pain slowly crept in the longer the spell was enacted. “What was that Sabra? I didn’t hear you. Is the girl finished for today? Patricia needs her now.”
“Ye-yes, you can take her no-now.” The queen struggles to stay standing. The witch waved her hand ending the spell.
“Let’s go Kendall! Patrica is waiting and the longer she waits, the longer training with her is going to be.”
Kendall quickly changes and walks out of the training room. The halls of the castle are beautiful, centuries-old sculptures litter the castle. Vintage red curtains turn the room into an amazing hue of red that Kendall loves.
Training with Kendall’s family is brutal, but it’s nothing compared to what her witch mistress, Patricia has in store for her.
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