The Forbidden Wolf King: Kings of Avalier, Book 4(2)

“Dorian would be sad to lose you. You will need his permission.” My brother spoke of our alpha. Cyrus was right. As the most dominant female member of our pack I would be a loss to the Mud Flat pack. I kept all of the other dominant women in line but if I did this, if I won the trials, I would bring great honor to Dorian and all of my packmates. I was still holding my brother’s gaze, waiting for his approval. In our weird little family, he was like a father to me and I wouldn’t enter without his okay.

The summons came in as a mandatory invitation, but if the alpha of the pack didn’t want to let that specific female go, or she was already spoken for romantically, another could be sent in her stead. Morgan could go in my place; she was the next in line of succession where dominance was concerned.

“Go ask him. If he says yes, I’ll train you,” my brother finally said, breaking eye contact with me.

Cyrus was a well-sought-after battle trainer. He might not have been dominant enough to be an alpha, but his cunning and strategy in fights was unmatched in our area. He’d even traveled to Death Mountain to train some of the Royal Guard. What he lacked in muscle he made up for in intelligence.

“I’ll tell him. Not ask.” I corrected my brother’s submissive thinking.

Cyrus chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

Dorian was a fair alpha, tough at times, but fair. The term “tough love” must have been coined for him. When I was thirteen, I stole some extra food from the community storeroom because I was bored and he starved me for four days and nights with water only. I never stole food again. Dorian earned respect; he didn’t ask for it blindly.

Nodding to my brother, I grasped the summons that had come from Death Mountain. It had gone out to all cities and villages in Fallenmoore and this one had my name on it. I wondered if Axil even knew that I’d be coming or if his advisors had sent this to me. It had been five years since I saw him, a boy who was now king.

I swooped down to ruffle my little brother’s hair.

“Be right back.”

Oslo seemed sad, and I knew he didn’t want this for me because it could take me away from him. Bending down, I looked him right in the eyes, holding his gaze. “If I become queen, you can come live with me at Death Mountain palace,” I told him, and his entire face lit up.

“Really?”

I nodded and he glanced away, no longer able to look into my eyes. He was the most submissive in our family and it made me want to protect him all the more.

“What if you die?” he asked, his voice small.

Cyrus reached out and roughed him up a bit, shaking his shoulders tightly and forcing Oslo to punch him to get him off. “Then she dies with honor and we will howl her name at the moon every year in remembrance,” Cyrus said.

Cyrus was right, dying during the Queen Trials was a great honor.

The contest to become queen only happened when the king needed a wife. My mother traveled to the city and saw the trials with Axil’s father, and three years ago I’d followed the one with his brother Ansel closely from here, but I never got to go see it in person. Axil took the pack from his brother the following year in a challenge fight, leaving him alive as a mercy.

Stepping out of my home, I made my way across the village square. The pack was out and about. Some of the women were skinning a fresh kill and a few men were in wolf form, sparring off to the side and practicing their hunting takedowns. A fresh hut was being built for a newly married couple and the sun was high in the sky. It was a beautiful day in our sleepy village but I knew if I did this, I would be yanked from my normal and into the bustling capital city of Death Mountain.

I knocked on the door of Dorian’s home and he called out immediately. “Come in, Zara.”

I grinned: damn, his sense of smell was second to none. I opened the door and found him eating a plate of meat and potatoes. His wife was tending a pot on the stove and nodded to me as I walked in.

Amara was the most submissive member of our pack. She rarely ever made eye contact and avoided confrontation at all costs. She was a peacemaker, which I loved about her. Any civil dispute was brought to Amara first to see if there was a more harmonious outcome possible. If that wasn’t the case, it was brought to me and I was the harsher problem solver. They called me “the punisher” because I liked to dole out penalties like those that Dorian had given to me, in order to teach wolves lessons they would never forget. Until you had felt the pangs of hunger eating your stomach inside and out, you didn’t know what it was like to want to really want to steal food, and you’d never do it out of boredom. It toughened me and taught me things I felt would serve me better than a slap on the wrist.

I pulled up a chair, dropped the summons in front of my alpha and then sat down.

“I got one too,” he said, sucking on a piece of meat and then he looked up at me and I held Dorian’s gaze. My alpha was nearly as big as a bearin. He was packed with muscle and though he was over forty winters old, he moved with the speed and grace of a trained killer. His short-cropped hair was dark brown, threaded through with gray that bled into his salt-and-pepper beard. But it was his eyes that held me now, deep brown with flecks of yellow; they felt like they pierced my very soul when I looked into them.

Dorian and I sat there for a full minute just staring at each other while Amara whistled to herself and stirred whatever was in the pot on the stove. It felt like a heavy weight had settled over my shoulders while my mind wanted me to look away, but my willpower was much stronger. Just when I thought I might go insane holding that stare, he spoke.