Warrior of the Damned
15

We quietly went through the door. Lucky for us, my father had a thing about squeaky doors. None in this castle ever creaked or groaned, he made certain of it. Hours were spent one day a month by staff lubricating all hinges. If one was ever missed, which was very rare, justice was swift and painful. It was one of my father's vices.

The room was full of snoring werewolves. I had never seen so many... which was odd to say since I hadnt seen even one until a month ago. Three? Four dozen? I felt overwhelming fear we wouldn't succeed.

Stay the course.

I scanned the room. They were curled up on the floor, on the steps, on the tables, on the chairs... why were there so many?

Should I take out the deep sleepers first? The ones whining and pawing in dreamland? If I did, would the lighter sleepers wake? Our plans would end before they even began. I decided the dreamers would live a little longer...

Marek snuck around to the opposite side of the throne, still feet behind it, shielded. He could pounce quickly on any groggy wolves still trying to figure out what was going on. My aim better be true.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

My arrows soared through the air. All head shots. All perfect kills. Still silence. None were stirring.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

I shot quickly, consecutively. The more we could kill before they woke up the better our chances. Though, even then, they were slim.

Nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

Suddenly a howl erupted from the far corner of the room. Marek propelled himself from the opposite side in one huge jump. I didnt falter. Rapidly firing at heads that hadn't lifted yet. The poor wolf didnt have the time to complete his howl, as Marek landed on his neck, instantly breaking it.

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A handful of wolves were shaking into their werewolf forms now. All attention on Marek.

Thirteen.

More heads lifted, eyes heavy, not sure what was happening.

Fourteen.

Werewolves started cornering Marek, snarling. He roared at them, leapt into the air, grabbing the chandelier and swinging up and behind the small group of them.

Fifteen.

More were transforming. I was running out of time.

Sixteen.

Seventeen.

Eighteen.

Out of no where a beastial yell erupted from the throne, in front of me. All was still as their attention fell on whoever was sitting in that chair.

"Marek. Let us talk. Man to Man."

I knew that voice! Aiden. In my father's thrown? How dare he! I was ablaze with fury.

"Aaaaddd-deeeee..." Aiden did not need to search for me to know where I was as the direction the arrows emanated from was a tell tale sign. He was mocking me. I saw his beefy arm emerge from the side of the throne he was still sitting at, beckoning me forward.

All eyes fell on me. The only ones still in wolf form, were the ones that had an arrow protruding from their skull. Hundreds of eyes. Angry werewolf eyes. I thought I might pee my pants.

Marek whispered in my head, Careful.

I slowly and cautiously made my way around to Aiden. I stared coldly into his eyes. The rage inside me was building. He was wearing my King's crown.

Adorning the royal robe of my father, his expression was pure boredom. He smirked at me, "I would say this was a pleasant surprise but..." he waved his hand across the room, referring to almost 20 dead wolves. He leaned back in the throne, propping his elbow on the arm rest, chin on his knuckles, "I had hoped you came back more excited about being my Queen."

He stood up, walking lazily toward me. He was smiling. I didnt like that.

Apparently, neither did Marek as he let out a deep, warning growl. I knew he was fast and agile but he was still too far from me for comfort. I was fairly sure Aiden could break my neck before Marek even got off the ground.

I glanced over my shoulder at him. The other werewolves were in a semi-circle around him, swaying back in forth, anticipating the cue to pounce on him. They snarled in response to his growl at Aiden.

Watch him, Addy.

I turned my attention back to Aiden. He was directly infront of me. Staring at me. My eyes met his defiantly. Hell, I was not above a staring contest. He threw something across the room to Marek, which I only saw through my peripheral as Aiden and I were playing this game with our eyes. I wouldn't lose.

"Shift Marek." Aiden demanded, never breaking eye contact with me.

It only took moments until I felt a human presence beside me. It shamed me to let Aiden win but curiosity got the best of me and I had to see Marek, now in a form I yet to witness.

I gasped. He was beautiful.

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