บท 7: The Guilt of the King

'It is nothing

I will survive this

I can survive this…'

But that was just her brain trying to make her precarious situation seem less. She would soon get to realize that bravery alone wasn't enough to guarantee one's safety in the gold palace of castle rock, especially when the King's fury was on the line.

His long legs powerfully took the stairs three at a time, causing tremors on the hearts of everyone who stood close.

Her own legs were several heights away from the ground with him still holding her neck.

All Verona could see was a side of his face and the gold cuff on his left ear lobe. Farah and Gal stood watching her but made no move to advance; even they were aware that this was far beyond them.

He seemed to be headed outside the gigantic palace building, into the cool evening air where the sun was almost bidding its last shine for the day.

People began to slowly follow behind but Oberion quickly dispersed them with a stern tone. He led her towards a large clearing that resembled an open fighting ring.

Verona couldn't help but wonder what he planned for her, but soon, her wonder turned into horror when she saw an old man bring out a horsewhip and handed it over to the King without making eye contact.

He dropped her on the sandy ground and looked towards his Beta who stepped forward and began to tie her to a long standing tree trunk which had been cut to size. It was like it was meant for her.

But still yet the Luna did not say a word, not even to plead for his forgiveness. Her ego and pride surged with force along with her anger.

King Razhal felt the slight tremble in her bones. She was afraid but yet he knew the woman would never beg him.

The northern she-wolf had a sense of pride common amongst fools and weaklings, but all the same he was happy to become her teacher. Breaking such spirit was nothing new.

"You shall be hit eight times. A strike for each letter of the word 'slut'. Such vulgar word is not used in my palace and most definitely not on any of my women. You think yourself some untouched gold clad in the cloak of purity…but I see through your façade."

He leaned towards her ears and in a low tone. "Don't think I don't smell it on you. The putrid foreign scent that hovers around you despite all you might have done to get rid of it…"

Verona held a look of confusion overshadowing her fear. What was he talking about?

"You have earned no right to insult this woman, and you will never insult this woman…not while you bear the mark of another man on your neck!"

It was like several ringing bells were set off in her head as she heard his words. So he knew...has always known…but how was it so?The witch had told her it was impossible, but she also hadn't really told the woman the rank of the man she was up against.

Her eyes found that of the slave in question standing right behind Oberion, a calm and silent presence.

"Two strikes will be for daring to talk back at me. A small punishment…because many have died for less. The remaining two strikes will serve as a warning, for you never to conceive the thoughts that your position here is much higher than the next person. Try me again Melima and your region will experience my wrath, not excluding your family."

The redhead wanted to cry. To fall on her knees and weep for what was about to befall her. She who was pampered by Omar- She who was like the goddess in his heart, was now about to be beaten by the man who had driven claws down his throat.

"Come forward Mi'gera" he motioned to the slave girl and she was beside him instantly.

"Tomorrow you shall hurt, but tonight you will learn," he muttered softly to the tied up Luna before stepping backwards and handed over the scary horsewhip into the dainty fingers of the young woman.

Not being able to hold it back, the tears came cascading down like water out of a rock. She was crying, first time since entering adulthood.

Verona hadn't even shed one single tear for Omar on that night, choosing only to focus more on vengeance than anything else. But here she was, crying like a pup abandoned by its mother.

Razhal caught a glimpse of the wet trail and chose to ignore the guilt that came straight for his heart. So now she cries but it's only been a few minutes ago she'd been ready to go toe to toe with him. If only she could abandon her pride and ask for mercy, then he might give it…or not.

His men were watching and so were his subjects. Melima needed to know her place or else far worse awaits her in the future.

"Whip her eight times after which you return to your quarters." Then he turned towards Oberion.

"She is to remain here unattended until my return. Offer her neither food nor water and make sure no one goes near the post. My Queen, your Luna needs to learn a few needed lessons"

And with that the King left the clearing, leaving her fate in the hands of his mistress.

***

King Razhal took off immediately with the Garavan Warriors headed towards the green glades of the borders. He needed a reason to escape from the guilt assaulting his mind. The vulnerability he saw in her face did something to him he just couldn't explain and thankfully he found a distraction.

There was a breach in the south and a rumor of rebellion which was now spreading faster than mere gossip. People were getting turned into mindless rogues by a strange curse and they were destroying the packs inhabiting that region.

This would be his first time confronting them straight on and giving reign to Zeus after many months.They ran on foot in a battle formation with him at the lead while his men trailed after him in their large wolf forms.Lycan wolves could access all their attributes without even having to make a full shift and could walk several kilometers on foot. It was nothing to Razhal.

And several hours later, smoke rented the air as the painful howls and growls of wolves would be heard from all around. The royal beasts had arrived into White Forest pack and already decimating any strange looking creature they see.

There was a prior announcement for indigenous wolves to vacate the pack so as not to be caught in the crossfire. Some listened while some headstrong ones refused to leave which only led to their deaths.

Razhal stood in his glory atop a cliff as he watched the bloodbath. Behind him was three others who looked like him. They were clad in a strange uniform and a woman was in their midst; It was obvious they had the Lycan bloodline.

"They smell awful" a brash looking young man with clustered beards spoke out. He bears the name Riko.

"But not enough like the ones we saw in Doxridge. These rogues seem sensible and operate almost like they could think for themselves." Another submitted calmly. His hair was cut short and framed his face giving off a feminine appearance.

"Don't be mistaken Hezine. I bet all my accumulated alpha skulls that they listen to one command. We are missing a piece of the puzzle..." The only woman amongst them spoke out in a silky tone.

She was taller than normal she-wolves and her curly hair was enough to cover up her entire eyes. Only her red painted lips were visible.

"Any reports from Daemon yet?" the King's husky voice put a stop to their debate.The man called Riko stepped forward.

"He has travelled up north but is yet to enter Sallow moon. Maybe a few weeks and he'll bring all the information about the girl"

He nodded once as if he understood, of which he did to a certain degree but another thought was fighting for dominance in his guts. Every passing day his bride keeps showing off a character foreign to what her father had said about her. Doubts were beginning to form and Razhal would be the last person to be saddled with such worry.

Hopefully Daemon proves her identity true, or else a few strokes wouldn't cut it.

"What about your last raid? I am told Gastel still lives…?"

Silence ensued in their midst despite the chaos raging below the cliff.

"Feibond would be in a better position to answer that Alpha...."

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Razhal's voice took a deeper tone as he sharply turned towards the man who had spoken.The three of them shared a look that held uncertainty, making it clear something was wrong.

"Alpha…The Gastel wasn't who we thought him to be" Riko approached the subject with hesitation.

"She was only but a child. We found out Gastel is a newborn."