The Crow Queen

Chapter One: The Crow Queen

The taste of his lips, the allure of his scent, the heat from his skin – every breathtaking feature is another temptation telling me to turn away from the people I have loved before now. But I deny myself this fate, for to live in worship of him would be to love the man not for his qualities, but for my infatuation.

It would be a self-centred and blinding love.

I want to learn how to wield the weapon that decided I am its future companion. The rare power his tribe's magical ancestors have bestowed upon an unsuspecting outsider. Me. "Teach me," I say with a face full of determination. I won't let him refuse me and–even though it was I supposedly destined to yield to his will, like a flower to the sun–I hope my courage sways him.

"To what — fight?" He laughs humourlessly and dismisses my demand with a roll of his eyes.

He starts to walk away from me, beginning his trek across a vast shoreline. I speed up and grasp his shoulder and, stormily, stubbornly, I force him to face me once more. "To protect your people!"

He sighs and answers sombrely, "You already know how to protect people, Lia."

"How can you be so narrow-minded? There's a threat out there, and you won't let me help you defeat it!" I shout, gesturing to the woodlands opposite the beach. We both know what lurks inside those woods: vampyres. They were hunting humans, they were massacring shape-shifters. The two of us stood on a path of sand and grass; long, wispy tendrils of green stood like hairs on the back of nature's neck and a grainy, golden, uneven surface as its skin.

"My brothers and I can protect these lands just fine on our own," He snaps, wrenching his shoulder from my grip. "I don't need some little wolf getting in the way of what my tribe has been achieving for centuries." He turns away again with anger in his heart. I can sense his burning infuriation; I can sense everything beneath that chiefly facade he maintained day in, day out.

"You're just a coward!" I scream out. I can't quite pinpoint his biggest fear, but I know it has something to do with accepting my help and loyalty. "You're afraid of...of..."

Suddenly, he spins around; expression stony, eyes ablaze, and he grips my forearms tightly. I wince, startled by his change in demeanour. "Yes, Lia, I am a coward." His words are shaky, his voice low and husky. "I'm afraid of every shadow that lurks outside my boarders. And, damn it, woman, you add to that burden!"

This time, I am the one to laugh humourlessly. "Oh, I'm a burden, huh? Perfect! That's just what every werewolf wants to hear from her Mate!"

"Do you think this bond is just a one-sided thing, that I don't feel anything for you? You think I'd happily throw you to the leeches if something better was coming along?" His hands tighten and teeth grit. "Well, sorry to disappoint you, blackbird, but there is nothing better. You're it! You're my best–the most I could want–the woman I've loved before I even knew you existed. And it's impossible...damned

impossible, Zahlia, for me to agree to teach you how to fight what I'm so desperate to protect you from. Can't you get that through your pretty, raven-black head of yours? I need you! Alive."

His eyes hold a spectrum of browns, from chestnut to ebony, and whisked with hints of ivy green. Some might call his eyes hazel, but they are too beautiful to be labelled such a mundane shade. At present, they bear flames of passion, flooding our bond with overwhelming emotions; feelings that quench every thirst I never knew I suffered.

I'm wordless for a very long time, entirely still and searching his face. "I...need you, too," I murmur and, at last, surrender to every urge–every wolf-girl instinct–that pulsed through my body since the moment I saw him. I push myself up, yank him down by the collar, and press his mouth to mine.