The Usurper's Throne

28

After the tenth couple, I lost track of who we had met. Everyone was wary of Damien, but thrilled to see me. It was as if we were long-lost friends. Who knows? Maybe they were besties with my mega-crazy dead dad.

Weirder things had happened. After an hour, Damien allowed me to speak (as long as it was not ill of him) and walk up to ten feet away from him. I immediately tried to cuss him out, but my tongue froze whenever I tried.

He was amused by my efforts.

Someone came up who I recognized. He was one of the gammas of the king. His wife was next to him, shyly looking at my wings. He gestured for him and Damien to walk and talk. The wife fell in step behind him and I walked with her.

"How are you?" I asked.

She smiled smally. "Very well. And yourself?" she asked.

"I am...alive," I decided, grateful I could say it. Damien and the gamma began walking down one of the garden paths, away from the party. We walked for a bit making small chat. I learned nothing about her and she learned nothing about me. After a few minutes, Damien stopped and looked at me. His eyes were wide and intense.

"Naomi, stay there."

I nodded. "Okay...honey bunny McDouble." I realized halfway into the night that annoying nicknames made it past the Alpha Claim filter. Damien wasn't amuse, but continued walking with the gamma, leaving me and his wife behind.

"Well. That was..." Rude. Just say rude. Apparently, that was too negative. "Quick?" I tried. It made it. This poor woman must have thought I was crazy.

I turned to her and froze.

Shaking in her small hands was a huge pistol, aimed right at me.

"Oh."

She blinked hard. "Go. That way," she said gesturing down a path with the gun.

"I can't," I said. I continued staring at the gun in her hand, more confused than scared. I don't even think she knew how to use it.

She pointed the gun back at me. "Go or be shot."

"I can't. Damien has me under a—" my voice gave out. "What? I'm not even allowed to tell the truth?" I nearly exclaimed in frustration.

"Shut up," she hissed. "Go!"

"Lady. I can't."

She spun me and pressed the gun against my back. "Go or I will pull this trigger."

I felt the cold metal seeping through my back between my wings and I realized she wasn't playing around anymore.My confusion quickly transformed into fear.

I could feel her tensing behind me. The gravity of the situation began pressing down on me. "Please," I begged.

"What is taking so long?" another man asked, coming up on us. He was well-dressed and looked like a normal guess. I was about to ask for help when I realized they were together.

"She won't move!" the lady exclaimed, pressing the gun harder into my back.

I would have cussed. If I could.

He growled. "Move or we will slit your throat. Our orders are clear. You're not going back with the usurper tonight. You're leaving with us or in a body bag."

He pulled out a knife and held it against my neck.I would have been shaking, but that must have not been allowed.

"I can't," I breathed. "Damien...I... Glue on feet," I tried. "I...my feet are...I am like a mouse in a trap," I managed.

Figurative language? That worked?

"I'm like a--"

Without warning, he pressed the cold metal hard against my arm. I felt it scrape against a scar as he slowly drew the blade across my flesh, drawing blood.

I grimaced as the panic of the situation filled me. Helpless.

"Move," he said, shoving me forward. I fell a couple steps to catch myself, but couldn't move further. He swore and slid the knife against my throat. I felt a line of blood fall down. "Move!" he roared. "The next time, the knife will sever your windpipe," he said.

Tears began pouring down my face in frustration.

I took a deep breath.

Be with the wind. Be with the wind.

A gentle breeze fluttered past me.

Faster.

A gust buffeted us and the two of them glanced up into the sky.

Faster.

The next gust was vicious, casting them to the ground. I stood firm, taking another breath. The wind grew more and more forceful until there was a consistent windstorm whooshing past me. I heard shouts over the noise from the courtyard as the carefully manicured shrubbery was buffeted.

Faster.

I was still stuck, but Damien never said to not use my powers.

Energy poured out of me into the window. My braids were tossed back and the feathers from my dress started flying off in the wind.

I glanced and saw Damien fighting against the wind trying to make his way to me. I stood there. Now he was subject to my power. I increased the gust and knocked him back.

"Stop!" he screeched.

I felt my muscles unlock and my tongue loosen. I smiled.

That boy had to be more careful what he commanded me. I tilted my head and lifted my hands, aiming all my power at the collapsed man ten paces in front of me. Anger poured into me, and I let it out. I pushed him off the ground and slammed him against a brick wall, forcing him to stay there.Our roles had drastically shifted in a matter of seconds. It all happened so fast.

Could I kill him?

My hands started to shake. Did I have a choice? Were my options killing him or living the rest of my life as some sort of pet? I couldn't do that.

I had to kill him, I realized.

Suddenly, a portal opened in front of me, and two hands dragged me inside. I fell onto the ground and saw Damien lurch up, only to find me gone. He had gone gray.

I glanced up and saw Roger staring at me.

"Naomi? Are you alright?" he asked. I licked my lips and realized I was shaking.

"I—I don't know," I said. I touched my throat, where a shallow cut was bleeding.

"Stay there," he said. I collapsed onto my knees, shaking. I couldn't tell if it was exhaustion from using my power or terror at what I had almost done.

Roger reappeared with a towel and gently pressed it against my neck.

"The Wereking called for your kidnapping," he said. I nodded. The gun and knife attack has convinced me of that. The Wereking was the only logical offender. Roger pulled back the napkin and sighed. "Thankfully, it's shallow. I am glad your power came in handy."

I nodded.

He moved my hand to hold pressure on my neck.

"Roger?" I asked. I saw the scene of gray unfold in front of me. Damien morphed into a werewolf and ripped the throat out of the woman who held me at gunpoint and the guy with the knife. I couldn't watch. "I'm stuck."

He looked at me in confusion. "What do you mean?"

I looked at him seriously. "I...Damien made the Alpha's Claim. He can do whatever he wants with me, and the Old Magic makes me obey," I said in horror. He blinked a few times but then nodded, realization dawning over his face. "If Damien survives tomorrow, I will forever be his pet."

Roger sat down next to me. "You are not an item to be kept," he said.

I nodded. "I know." I took a deep breath. "That's why he has to die."