The Lycan King & I.

//seven//

Part I: Chapter Seven
Elliette Mercer
Driving North
October

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It feels like I've only just closed by eyes when I'm roused awake by noisy breakfast preparations outside my tent. As I dress quickly, I pray that I don't look half an exhausted as I feel. It was a long night: tossing and turning until my sheets tangled in the sheets. My eyes burned for rest all night, but it wouldn't come. 

When I step out side of the tent, I squint up towards the harsh sun to examine the weather. It's thankfully not snowing, yet the air feels even colder than last night. The tip of my nose is growing numb already. I can only hope at this point that we start descending down the other side of the mountain today, for my own sake. My ears had popped a few times on the drive so far, perhaps we were at the top of the mountain. 

"Morning, Queenie," Wells greets me cheerfully as I walk over to him, he's crouched down and tending to the fire. He pokes it a few times until the flames grow. I pull a stray log close to the fire, hoping to catch some heat, before taking a seat. 

It doesn't escape my attention that Axle is missing from our typical morning rotation, which only makes me feel shameful in my behavior last night. I hope I didn't get him in trouble, he literally was just walking. Me and my paranoia are the ones to blame here, not Axle. 

"Good morning, Eliette." The kings voice startles me awake, I hadn't realize I'd dozed off in the few minutes of sitting here, head nodding to the side. He lays a warm plate in my lap before sitting at the log next to mine, Wells follows suit. 

I keep my head bowed as the King and Wells dig into their plates, which seems to be some type of sausage, with a side of little potatoes and fruit. They comment casually back and forth to one another.

"How did you sleep?" The king asks me politely, breaking off from his conversation with 

"Fine, my King." I respond, though that couldn't be further from the truth. There's a long pause, too quiet to be comfortable, despite the sounds of crackling fire and forest around us.

The King let's out a small cough, I'm not sure if it's to grab my attention again or if there's actually something in his throat. "You can eat your breakfast, Eliette, I didn't put anything in it." 

I flinch slightly at his comment. Put anything in it? That idea hadn't even crossed my mind until now. What would he put in it? The same thing the wolves made me when they first took me overseas to work? It had put me to sleep for most of the boat ride to the Middle Kingdom. 

My face must give me away because the king quietly curses to himself before clarifying, "Damnit, I mean, it's safe for humans. Now please eat." 

My eyes lower submissively, still not comforted by his reassurance, "It's wrong for humans to eat before wolves are finished with their meal." I repeat the mantra that had been drilled into my head for years. 

There's another long silence, long enough for me to hear the wind howling through the peaks of the mountain, long enough for my mind to wander back to his 'put anything in it comment...' 

"That is...." The King finds his words, seemingly stewing over his next move all this time. "That is not..." His loss of words, which I don't think I've ever seen him struggle with before, causes my head to shoot up to gauge his reaction. His eyes are shut and he is taking long, deep breaths. It doesn't escape how his hands, claws extended, are dug into the wooden log below him. His wolf is showing. 

"You eat when I eat," He settles on once his claws retract and his chest stops rumbling, those his face is still red with some expressed emotion. I get the sense he is trying really hard to restrain himself. "And not a moment later."