Zion

“They don’t have any business attending the Solecist Meeting and Gala,” Lord Adakis expresses as I let my eyes wonder back to the mosaic tiles of the floor, bits of marble, different colors, placed in the design of the crest of the wolf empire.

Zion sits at the head of the room, his marble throne place before the only window on the room, looking powerful as his chair is raised above the rest. He rests his chin upon his hand, listening to the next comments as I sit on the second floor of the chamber, the circular room, looking below at the smaller thrones that also circle the crest, the room in one of the smaller towers, right below another chamber for business, one for the Senate (when all the Alphas and the King gather for more important matters).

For two hours I’ve sat on the second floor after King Zion introduced me to all the Lords. As a summary of the meeting, I either received dirty looks or raised eyebrows as I bowed my head, only for Zion to become offended.

For two hours they began again on their war meeting, something I was told my Zion that was under the radar, few knowing that war was to begin. Against who? From what I could pick up, a race of vampires known for their unique black eyes, not the typical red, a group that most children would associate with a nightmare.

By the next hour I’m sitting on the marble floor, my head against the railing as I’m hidden from the council, shutting my eyes as I let out a deep breath. All I want to do is take a walk through Central Park and go to Times Square to people watch. Questions fly though about my rent, if my tenet has tried to find me, if he’s thrown out my items, if my parents have contacted me only to hit voice mail. I’ll probably ask the King where the hell my phone is.

“How much time do we have?” Someone asks, and I remember the voice, Lord Vincent.

“Three weeks at least,” Zion replies as I hear movement. The heavy doors to the chamber open and I look over the railing, only for my eyes to widen as he stares at me, those eyes trained upon mine as his guests begin to leave. We stay still for another five minutes, eyes upon each other, and once he breaks contact, he tells a pair of guards to close the chamber doors.

“Coming down?”

Not wanting to show my disrespect, I get to my feet, feeling nervous as his eyes are glued to me. He sits there, one ankle crossed upon his knee, his hands moving to strip the crown from his head, laying it on his lap. I continue to a small stairway, vanishing from his line of view as I think of my family.

Once the sunlight hits me from the tall window, I watch as he offers me a lopsided smile, as if one a predator would mask his identity with to capture the prey. One to coax them into believe he is of no harm. That he is a friend.

“How was the meeting?” He asks, watching as I look to the heavy doors at the entrance of the room, steel doors with intricate designs of leaves, a forest, and wolves going off to battle as the moon is high.

“Interesting,” I lie, looking back to the King as he cocks his head to the side, pressing me on for the correct reply. “Quite a bore actually, I don’t understand how you enjoy it,” I explain, walking around the thrones, each fifteen of them, each made of marble and lower than the King’s chair.

The King let’s out a a deep breath, resting his chin upon his hand as I stand in the center of the room. “Most would say it’s a matter of maturity. Many would say the more mature you become the more boring things you begin to appreciate.” He is true when it comes to that. Shrugging, I clasp my hands behind my back and look up at the ceiling. “Besides, I doubt you’d like talk of war with that Lord Kane found funny enough to tell me.”

I raise an eyebrow, only for my face to go scarlet in embarrassment. “I doubt anyone who finds the word ‘penis’ fun would enjoy a council meeting.” I avoid eye contact as I hear him shift in the throne chair, the sound of footsteps across the silent chamber.

Fingers brush my cheek, the warmth of skin spreading through me as he gently moves my head to the side. “I’d like my phone back.” His hand stops, gently cupping my cheek as I bite the inside of the other, wondering how he will reply. “My parents have probably called many times and my tenant will be asking for pay any day now, I wouldn’t be surprised if he moves my things out today.”

“Look at me, Sybil,” he whispers, his lips dangerously close to my ear as I keep my eyes glued to the stairwell. I think of just stepping from his hold and running to the doors, trying to open them and get as far as possible away from here. But I abide by the King’s wish, moving my eyes to meet his as my wolf bows her head in respect. Goddess, I could use a run. “Why would you need a phone when you’re here, in the palace, a world of adventure awaiting you?”

I scoff.

“What adventure? I just see marble floor after marble floor, maids, pillars, and massive rooms with no one to talk with. I’m asking for my phone to take care of business,” I express, trying to seem respectful, but I doubt I was the second I opened my mouth.

His eyes harden, his hand retrieving from my face as the clouds pass by the sun, the room growing darker by the second. Some say that the Alpha King used to control the weather within the magic field, his mood or just sheer will causing a rainstorm to turn into a bright day. Those stories have passed now, only told at bedtime to innocent children with dreams.

“I wish I could understand you, Sybil,” he mumbles, walking away, circling his throne once as he picks up the crown, twirling it upon his finger as my eyes widen. He could damage the crown generations of Kings wore. He gives no care. “How one rogue with nothing is given a palace with the greatest riches and even a King within the walls, yet they want to vanish and go back to the human world.”

My lips are pressed in a firm line, watching as he puts the crown upon his head, walking back to me. “But the moment you dared turn your back to me yesterday, I knew you’d be hard to please, someone who doesn’t care if the world is handed to them on a silver platter. You’d rather spend your life stressing about taxes and debt than wearing the finest silks and parading around, rubbing into noble faces how you have more power than them.”

He’s right, I’d rather be a rogue than my hair drenched in hairspray and my waist shrunken as I’m told what and what not to eat for my beauty. But he’s got it wrong as well, on any other occasion I’d be on cloud nine as I walk through the palace in walls, but because my brain has been in one giant knot of confusion since I arrived, I’m finding a dislike for the mothership of the questions in my head.

“Then why do you keep me here, King Zion? Why keep a girl with no want of wearing silks or showing off superiority in the palace? I bet you could find someone who would enjoy this,” I snap, crossing my arms as the King’s jaw clenches, his chest almost fully against mine as we are both annoyed with the other.

“Be cautious of how you talk to your King,” he growls, his eyes turning pitch black as his wolf begins to surface. “Anyone else would have their head ripped from their shoulders by now.”

“Then why not make me anybody else? Why not rip my head from my body and feed it to the fish in the lake? Why not use my eyeballs a bait for the fish and have my limbs stuck on sticks to warn off all those who oppose you?” I yell, throwing my hands up in the air as I can see the King try not to shift, to not break free and put me in my place.

Suddenly, my neck is gripped, my body slammed against the doors, my mouth gasping for air. The hand releases me, letting me fall to the floor. Oddly enough, I feel no pain, no soreness from all that sudden movement. He’s taking it easy on me, he’s trying not to hurt me as he uses actions of violence. My eyes meet his Italian shoes, not daring to look up. “Because, my dearest Sybil,” he begins, my skin paling with those words, “if you were anybody else, you would be a poor and submissive whore with no dreams but wearing the Queen’s crown.”

“What are you saying?” I question, gritting my teeth together as he bends down, his fingers pushing my chin up to look at him.

“I’m saying, Sybil, that you are unique, that you, a rogue, a reject, a mateless wolf, are someone I’m willing to make mine no matter how long it takes.”

I chuckle. “You can’t make someone love you, you can’t wait forever, time is something no one has control over,” I hiss, shoving him away. “Believe me, you don’t know me and vice versa. You only know me as a poor rogue and I only know you as my King.”

His eyebrows furrow together as his grabs my arm, yanking me only to crash into him, making me land on the floor, the King under me as he holds my hands still. “And you would never want to betray your King, would you?” I scowl. “Sybil, I have all the time in the world, but for patience, I lack that.”

I try to get off of him, worried someone may come in, but more than that, for the King to allow himself to be under, for someone to have him in a submissive position, it makes warning bells go off in my head. “Here is my deal, King,” I snap, wanting to be gone. “I don’t want to be here nor do you need me here, yet you-

“Oh, I need you here very much, Sybil,” he interrupts as my eyes widen, but before I can blink, I’m flipped over, held at his mercy as my blood boils. “I need you by my side. I can read you, you’re an open book, you’re someone who grants me freedom from this palace, someone who lets me see the outside world, who shows me what I’ve wanted for my whole life.”

I don’t understand him as he lowers his face, those lips dangerously close to mine. “And I know, one hundred percent, my dear, that you are to be mine.”