Caged In

Chapter 1: Six Years Ago . . . (edited)

I looked down at my mother's grave which was carved out of marble and cleaned daily by staff in the castle.

It'd been two weeks since her passing and my resentment was slowly eating away at my resolve to stay at the castle. My goal of becoming ruler and making the kingdom a better place seemed foolish now that my mother's death had opened my eyes to the harsh reality of my position.

I was cast aside by my father because I hadn't shifted, and I was well past the expected age. He had set up an arranged marriage to the beta of the pack to get rid of me.

I would never be king, my mother was dead, and I was an outcast that everyone in the castle ignored. Nobody wanted anything to do with a werewolf who couldn't shift.

There is no reason to stay here anymore.

I wanted nothing to do with the place that had caused my mother so much suffering.

No, I growled, I want nothing to do with the people that allowed her to die like this.

Her funeral was rushed, so I had little say in the details of the burial ritual and the spiritual send-off. The only thing that my father allowed me to do was decide which prayer would be depicted in the marble sculpture on the alter.

I was beyond words and well past anger when I'd noticed even that had been taken away from me. The sculpture that had been carved depicted our ancestors thanking the moon goddess for bestowing the blessing of mates upon us. The sculpture was nothing short of a blatant insult to my mother's memory.

She was a devout woman, her unwavering belief in the moon goddess was what helped her curry favor within the churches and traditional packs in the kingdom. Her faith, loyalty, and natural charisma made her the perfect tool to bridge the rift my father's heretical acts of adultery had created between the church and the kingdom.

How dare he, I seethed, father had no right to change the sculpture! Mother died because of the mate bond; how could she ever be thankful for something like that ?

" It is because of my love for you that I hope your children will teach you this lesson, as you have taught it to me." Someone behind me placed a hand on my shoulder.

I turned to see Nira, who's white hair softly framed her face as she looked at me with the same look as everyone else in the palace.

The same exact look of exhausted pity.

" What are you doing here ?" I asked through a clenched jaw as I turned back to the grave and bent over to place lilies on the alter with shaky hands.

Nira and my mother had been childhood friends. Nira was a prodigy witch who signed a contract pledging allegiance to my mother when they were eighteen years old. Now that my mother was dead their contract was void, so I couldn't understand why she would still be here.

" Giving your mother a prayer." She responded.

I slowly stood up and turned to face her with my arms crossed," Praying isn't the same as repeating a quote from the scripture." I started," And the quote you chose . . ."

The quote was said by the moon goddess when she stripped her three blessings of longevity, control, and matehood from all future descendants of Yanice and Nimay -- two brothers who led their pack to slaughter tens of thousands of werewolves. The story served as a warning against greed more than anything, though I wasn't sure if she knew that when she said it.

I cleared my throat," Witches aren't religious. Why would you even bother praying ?"

Nira smiled as she looked down at the alter which now adorned a fresh bouquet of lilies," Adeline used to take me to her parents' graves to pray. She always insisted that a spirit wouldn't know you visited it and get lonely if you didn't pray at its' grave."