The Wolf Queen (The Queen's Slave, Book 2)

Thirty Six: Resurrected

"And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Another book was opened, which is the book of life. The dead were judged according to what they had done as recorded in the books. The sea gave up the dead that were in it, and death and Hades gave up the dead that were in them, and each person was judged according to what they had done."

-Revelation 20:12-13

Breathe By: Lauv

The world had become a cold and uninviting place for the kingdom of wolves in the weeks following Azalea's death.

Thunder cracked across the sky, unleashing a torrent of freezing rain and hail upon the wolves as they huddled together, desperate for warmth, deep within Colorado's wilderness. Owen watched the lighting streak across the sky from where he sat on the cliffside, his grey fur a beacon but he couldn't find in himself to care. His sister had loved storms, and for the first time since she died, he felt close to her. The loss of the young heir took a toll on the pack that was unexpectedly alarming. Without her, it was hard to convince the wolves to stay, especially if Azalea's mate was to continue leading them. Owen's muscles rippled and burned as he writhed on the ground, until finally he lay bare and gasping on the rocky surface. Broken sobs poured from him, punctuated by the sharp sting of hail upon his skin. Ignoring the pain, he curled himself into a tight ball.

He must've fallen asleep because when he woke he was not alone, and someone had placed a blanket over his naked frame. His teeth chattered as he wrapped the warm and semi-dry wool around himself, looking around hazily. It didn't take him long to find his caretaker from where she stood watch over the cliffside, her eyes closed and her head tipped to face the rising sun.

"I can see from my kindred's memories that your queen loved these storms. But I always favored the first light of day as it broke over the land."

He started as she suddenly spoke, her eyes opening but still depthless, dark and empty. Thinking back, he supposed it wasn't really Elizabeth leading them anymore, but the errant goddess possessing her. And that knowledge alone was beyond frightening. No one knew what to do with her now that she had awakened. There hadn't been time before Azalea died for her to explain just who she was or why she was here, and now she held the shredded remains of the pack bond in her clutches, like the strings of a puppet. She only had to tell them to leap and they would be forced to ask how high.

"You think me a monster." She turned her head to catch his gaze and he fought the urge to flinch back.

He hadn't thought he could miss Elizabeth's presence, but he did. Persephone's movements were almost mechanical in her vessel's skin, like she was unaccustomed to the way the body worked and functioned. It was unsettling, the way she wore Elizabeth's skin, especially since Elizabeth had been alive with what she felt, and now it was like looking into the dead and empty eyes of someone who no longer existed. Yet her body lived on and something much more sinister had root inside her. There was just nothing when you looked at her. No emotion, no soul, no hope.

"I do not think anything of you, Master. I only wish for my sister back." He quietly replied, watching her blank expression.

"You needn't call me that abhorrent name, child. I have not enslaved you."

"But you have." He retorted without thinking, his voice bitter. He knew he should stop while he was ahead, but anger and grief reared it's ugly head and everything spilled free of him. "We are powerless against you. You are an enigma that we lesser beings cannot even begin to hope to understand. I am sure that my sister had plans to explain you to us, but now that she is," he caught himself, swallowing harshly. "Gone, I'm sure you can understand how dangerous you are to us and everything we have worked for, not to mention the torture our kind has endured for generations." He laughed sardonically, shaking his head.