Page 73 of Full Moon
Chapter 34
Feray
I absolutely hate beinglike this.
But wolves, like other apex predators, respect power and authority. Both of which I have in spades. Fi is going to shit herself when she sees how much I've evolved. Change is the wrong word for what has happened. Evolution is change on a permanent level. I have evolved from the scared, powerless witch to a powerful winter wolf—the last of my kind and bloodline.
Whoever restrained and buried who and what I am will pay dearly when I find out who or what they are. The rage simmers beneath my skin as we walk down the hallway. The clicking of my shoes on the marble floors echoes rhythmically.
A soft laugh escapes my lips as I change my gait, silencing my steps. Five arrive and only four can be heard. This should throw off whoever is in charge.
I hear the voices ahead long before they come into view. They scramble to prepare for my arrival.
Good. Let them scramble.
"Khal, Diaval, walk beside us." My mates move and flank us. Only Torben stays behind, ready to counter any sneak attack. The doors to the room I need to enter are closed and appear to be barred shut. They think wood and metal will stop me. They thinkanythingwill stop me.
"Easton, would you do the honors?" Easton steps forward, his hand glowing. The smell of burning wood fills the air. I watch as the section he's touching chars to a cinder. With a shove, the lock falls from the door.
I glance back at Torben. He gives me a nod before charging forward, ramming his shoulder into the door. The force sends it flying off its hinges, shattering into a hundred pieces that scatter across the room.
The man and his advisors spring to their feet as Easton and I stride in. My eyes dance with the anticipation of what's to come.
"How dare you come in here uninvited," the man I assume is in charge barks. I let the silence stretch. Let him sweat.
Then I speak.
"My mother was Lyra Sveltson, Princess of the Crescent Valley pack. My father was Claridon Jökull, Alpha of the Dunnum pack and true mate to Lyra." I stand taller, speaking my parents' names, feeling my wolf perk up.
"This is my pack by birthright and blood." Power radiates from me, and Easton steps back, allowing me to wield my abilities fully.
"Lyra's pup died in utero. You are not her child," he yells, a smug smile crossing his face as he folds his arms.
The rage in my chest turns to ice. "Seeing as my parents didn't tell anyone about the loss of their first child, I find it interesting you know about it." I smirk, stepping further from my mates. "That is, unless you know something about the die-off of a half dozen unborn pups around that time." I watch his bravado falter. He steps back, glancing at his advisors.
Guilty.He knew. He was part of it.
My wolf snarls in my chest, straining against my control.Kill him. Kill him now.Not yet,I tell her.Let him dig his own grave first.
"Remove this usurper. She's not Lyra's child."
An older advisor looks me over, then notices my attire. "She has the diadem of Selune and the bone bracers of Fenrir and collar," he mutters, stepping back. "I cannot stand against her."
"She's a grave robber, not the next Luna. Guards!" Two dozen wolves surge into the room from all sides.
Laughing softly, I remove the diadem, collar, and bracers, handing them to Easton with a wink. I won't need them for what comes next. I move and position my mates behind me. "Hilda Skau, my mother's mother, was the last living winter wolf, right?" I ask, my voice echoing in the tense silence.
"That is correct," replies the advisor who refused to stand against me.
"She wasn't the last." I let the words hang in the air.
"I am."
No sooner do the words leave my lips than my shift takes over—faster than ever before. The minute my paws hit the ground,the temperature in the room plummets. Frost crawls across the marble floors. Breath crystallizes in the air. The guards closest to me stumble back, their eyes wide with primal terror. The child of winter walks among them.
Several guards immediately take a knee. Easton moves to stand beside me. My wolf's shoulder is even with his chest, my head level with his. No wolf in this room can match my size.
"You stand before Princess Thyra Feray Jökull, heir apparent to the Crescent Valley Pack," Easton announces. "She is also mate and wife to me, Easton Alexander Bennu, Prince of the fallen Dusk Court. She is the true child of winter. Torben is the child of earth. Khal is the child of water. Diaval is the child of air." He raises his hands, allowing his fire to rise. "I am the child of fire."
