The Heir's Breeder

7

"Would you like to join us tonight?" Tristan asks, pulling a shirt down over his head. He had come back earlier than usual today to prepare for the Full Moon tonight. The sun is low in the sky, but not quite set yet. It feels weird to see him so early, but I am not against it.

"And what would I do?" I ask, laughing a little while I bring my tea up to my lips. I am currently curled up on the edge of the bed. One of my knees is up towards my chest while the other is hanging off the bed.

Tristan stops moving for a moment and stills before speaking, "Well, you could stick with me?"

I appreciate him trying, but he really does reach sometimes, "Thanks, but I'll get in the way. Besides, I'm just fine staying here. I have no problem keeping myself busy."

Tristan finally tops in front of me, crouching down so I would not have to look up at him, "Fate, you have a right to your culture."

"Tristan, I am really fine. It's not my culture—it never has been," I pause, "I can't shift; it would be weird for me to be out there." I turn to look out the balcony toward the setting sun and hear Tristan about to speak. Quickly, I turn back to him and continue, "It's getting late, you should get going soon."

He sighs but gives in, saying a quick goodbye before heading out.

__________________________________

The palace was quiet as the sunset. I had pulled out the paints I was using yesterday, set them up on the balcony, and continued the painting until people started to gather in the courtyard a bit of ways away from the room. Everyone was wearing very little, typically I would wear clothes like that as I am still trying to adjust but everyone else would have lots of clothes on, now everyone looks like how I dress.

I watched silently from above as Tristan made his way to the center. He spoke for a few minutes about praising Luna and how special tonight is then stepped down. Everyone watched as he stripped off all his clothes then shifted into his wolf. It was beautiful. I only ever saw my sisters in the dark so seeing a wolf clearly was breathtaking. His fur was black and white like a salt and pepper pattern—making him look grey—with specks of brown dotted throughout. As it moved toward his stomach, the black started to fade away and the white took over. His eyes were bright an expressive and, as the others disappeared to hide and shift, Tristan looked up and our eyes met.

Even as all the wolves returned, gathering and waiting for his command, his eyes remained on me, and mine on him. I was stuck in a trance, unable to pull away. He waited until the sun fully set and the sky was dark before finally pulling away to howl up at the moon. When his head came down, the others mimicked him—howling at the moon— and Tristan's eyes found me again, only for a moment. Once it was quiet again, he turned and took off in a sprint towards the forest, the others following suit.

The palace was quiet—almost empty. I wandered the halls alone, running my hands along the smooth marble walls. The only light was what the floor reflected from the moon and I then understood why there was so much marble in the palace in the first place. While it was bright, the light didn't move up the walls enough to illuminate them. Initially, I had wanted to see the paintings, but with so little light I had resigned to aimlessly wandering the palace.

After roaming the palace for hours I finally found my way to the ballroom I had been in my first night—the one where I first saw Tristan. it's simultaneously seemed larger and smaller than I remembered with the throne he sat on still seated in the center on the far back wall overlooking everyone. I could picture it—the way he sat there I scanning the entire room, the way his face changed when he picked up I scent, the harshness behind his eyes when he first saw me and realized what I was: a Slave.