Chapter 6 Run! Now!
- Clara
- My heart pounded. Hazel and I fled the room, though I wanted to demand how he seemed to know me. I didn’t know a thing about him, except that he was clearly a spoiled Elite.
- “You called him Prince Legiere,” I said to Hazel, but she barely relented. She was heading straight to the ballroom where we needed to be.
- “Gods,” she whispered, more to herself than me. “We shouldn’t have been there. How could I been so stupid? Why would he be in there, instead of with the other Elites?”
- “Hazel. Hold on. For goddess’s sake, Hazel!” I stopped her from pulling my arm. “Who in hells is he?”
- She looked at me, shaking her head. “Do your best to never pique his interest, and never, ever insult him to his face again. Trust me, Clara. He’ll eat you alive, then spit you back out simply because it amuses him.”
- “Another arrogant Elite—” I began to sneer.
- “NO!” she shouted. “He is not just any Elite!”
- I flinched at Hazel’s yell in shock. She had never raised her voice with me in all the years I had been with her. She sighed and smoothed back one of my brown locks that had broken free of its jeweled barrette.
- She spoke, “He is the undisputed Alpha of the Dark Shade. Lord Emperor Deanneth Legiere. Oh Clara. I wasn’t joking when I said I always find you in trouble. This is my fault.” She hugged me close to her body, as if she wanted to shelter me from any danger lurking in the shadows.
- I shivered.
- Of course. The Elite of the Elites. The most prestigious, absurdly wealthy pack in all of the Twin Canines. I furrowed my brow. That couldn’t be right. Our recent historical tomes spoke of Emperor Bruess Legiere, the current Alpha of Dark Shade. He had taken over the pack when his father passed away. Then the lazy, self-important werewolf who smoked unda and had the face of a fox was none other than a Usurper.
- Like my parents, he was traitor to his pack. Only he was not only able to survive, but he also had succeeded in subjugating the most powerful pack in the entire South.
- Just imagine how dangerous he would be.
- And I had just told him that he was a disgusting pig.
- My mind swirled with various thoughts and assumptions. I pondered on what I had just done and what it meant. My blood froze, my heart sank.
- A wild, heady feeling churned in the pit of my stomach. It was a mix of fear and self-destruction.
- I need to run.
- I have to run, now!
- I would be dead. To even mock an Elite in my own small pack meant being whipped until my back was nothing but tattered shreds.
- I had seen it happen before. A young Omega servant had somehow made a friend with an Elite Gamma male. They were just boys roughhousing. When the Omega had joked that the Gamma boy was as vain and prissy as a girl, the Gamma boy’s parents had taken the servant, tied him to the stake, and whipped him until he was unconscious. The Gamma boy had screamed for them to stop, but that didn’t matter.
- Pride mattered. Name and title mattered.
- The Omega boy died in feverish agony only a night later. Hazel had tried to save the boy. She failed. It was an infamous, but familiar story I’ve heard time and time again. The characters may change, but the story remained the same.
- What would be my punishment?
- I had mocked the leader of the Dark Shade pack. A whipping would be too good for me.
- Oh, I could be like my mother, could I? Burning coals. The flaying. The dreaded Iron Vice. My mother was given that treatment. They made sure she was utterly crippled, so that she couldn’t run. Her last moments were that of maddening torment. She had begged for them to end her life.
- You stupid ass! howled Elena.
- She reacted faster than me. A sudden surge of wrath engulfed me. It was so powerful, terrifying. I could feel her becoming one with me. Her emotions, her rage, and her power. It was too much. I couldn’t bear such emotions within me.
- Bile rose to my throat, and I tore away from Hazel’s arms. It was an instinctive move. She had tried to lead me back to the ballroom, perhaps to hide in the mass of werewolves. But I knew that I couldn’t be overwhelmed by the panting crowds, the sweet drugs in the air, and the cruel eyes of the Alpha.
- I threw myself along a side corridor. I was not familiar with the Hearth, this building where they held the mating ball. I had no idea where I was running. All I knew was that I had to get outside. NOW.
- “Clara! Clara stop!” Hazel cried. “Where are you going?”
- A voice that I realized was mine answered, “I’m leaving! I won’t do this any longer! Get away from me!”
- It was as if Elena had used my throat to speak. Was this me talking? I was frantic, angry, and terrified. I threw off those stupid heels from my feet and ran barefoot on the cold stone floors.
- “If you run now, you may as well admit your guilt!” Hazel said. Her voice was one of reason, but I knew it was too late. “We can pretend like nothing happened! Prince Legiere may not say anything! We have to get back to the mating ball, and you can find a good mate who will take care of you!”
- She’s stupid too, sneered Elena.
- Too late. I was dead meat.
- “They’ll accuse you too for being there,” I yelled back. I was fast outpacing Hazel, who huffed after me. “They’ll say it was your fault too. Get back to the ball room, and never say you meet me tonight!”
- “Clara! Stop!” she cried.
- I took a sharp turn. The long corridor we had been running in split into three other paths. I sniffed the air and could smell the autumn wind and the harvest of deer and rabbits. The eastern corridor led to a way out. I fled in that direction. Hazel’s voice grew more distant. I had wanted to give her my proper goodbyes, but I considered that brief moment we had embraced to be good enough.
- My legs ached, but I could see the windows of the corridor facing the outer perimeter of Bragne.
- Good. I recognized this area.
- I opened doors at random, hoping that they would lead outside. Thankfully, not a werewolf was in sight. I gambled that no one would be this far away from the main ballroom. Finally, there was one heavy oaken door with an iron handle. I tugged at it, and I breathed out in relief.
- The brisk wind met my face, and for a moment, I felt peace wash over me. I checked my surroundings for guards, and sure enough, I could see two werewolves in green and mahogany attire on patrol to my left. They were at a lonely location. A small outpost to guard the sloping hills that eventually would lead downwards into the Harrow, a gigantic forest that bordered several pack territories in the South.
- I watched the guards carefully. One was utterly soused with hot wine. The other was laughing at him. He also had a small cup in his head. Would they stay there, or would they patrol other areas? I crept forward and stayed in the shadows.
- I looked back behind me for only a moment. The tall black building known as the Hearth seemed to be like a monster swallowing me up.
- For a moment, I wondered if Hazel had picked up my trail. I thought about Griffin. What would he do when he heard I ran off? Would they chase after me? Or would they finally leave me in peace and hope that the beasts would kill me?
- I ran to a grouping of evergreen bushes. I was so close to the exit. I picked up a hefty stone at my feet. It felt heavy and cool to the touch. I could easily sneak up to the guards, knock them unconscious with this stone, and run straight into the Harrow Forest. It was easy to get lost in there, and there were so many different scents of beasts, plants, wood, and trees that no werewolf would be able to pick up my trail.
- My heart beat wildly. This was my chance!
- Suddenly, sharp pain exploded in the back of my head. My eyes saw nothing but white sparks. I reeled forward drunkenly and gasped in pain. The blow had been so powerful, it made me collapse on the dirt.
- “You little scurrying rat. You really thought you could escape that easily? I saw it in your eyes the second you walked into the ballroom.”
- Dizzily, I looked up into the eyes of Lieutenant Gerald Dover, son of Lord Bernard Dover. A sneer was on his tanned brown face, and parts of his head shaven at the sides. His bright red hair was tied up in the ritualistic topknot of the guardians of the entire South, the Alliance Hunters. He eyed me with a merciless smirk.
- He caught me.