The next week that followed was the worst time of my life. Three times a day, I shifted between hatred for our new King and praying to the demon God Mar to drown him in the river Eystrasalt.
Other times, I heaved, clutched at my chest, the tears refusing to subside, and when they ever did, I was breathless, dizzy, my throat burned, and everything seemed blurry. Sometimes I lost consciousness.
Ma was always beside me when I woke.
"He's an Alpha," she'd quietly say, shoving spicy cooked fish into my mouth. "It was going to come to this eventually."
"Lar is different," I whispered, clinging desperately to what I knew was childish hope. "It's all Alphas except Lar."
Ma stopped and stared at my tear-stained face and food-decorated mouth. Self-aware, I used my finger to pick a piece, pushing it between my shut lips. "What?"
"Do you love Lar?"
I frowned. "Why would I 'love' Lar?"
"Then why can't you believe he did that to you?" She breathed. "Alphas don't care about anything." She eyed me. "And not a girl that's always seen at the Arena."
"He didn't care, it was no deal breaker to him. What are we even talking—"
She stuffed my mouth forcefully, cutting my words off. "About?" I muttered around the food, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's.
The food was like ash in my mouth, intensifying the tiny rage I felt that she wasn't as angry as me. Lar betrayed me, and even though I was her daughter, she was just going to give him a pass.
But Ma sighed, infiltrating my walls. "He's no longer sixteen," her eyes softened just a fraction. "He's a man now. He's decided he doesn't want you around anymore. Beating yourself up about it won't change his mind."
I swallowed, the heat burning its way down my throat, almost as searing as the reality she was trying to make me face. I wanted to argue, to defend Lar, but the words died on my lips. The truth was, even I couldn't fully convince myself anymore.
"You think that's the reason he did it?" I looked up at Ma's tired eyes, mirroring the exhaustion I felt in my bones.
Ma shook her head. "It doesn't matter, it only matters that he did. You need to do as he says and learn from it." She then put the plate away and rose. "Stand up, I prepared your bath."
That night, as I stared at the ceiling, tracing the painting in my room dimly illuminated by the yellow flames of a candle, I made up my mind. If he wanted to be left alone, so be it, but Lar Bjorn would never see me again.
Easier said than done.
The next morning, I was awoken by deep male voices echoing through the house and up to my room.
My instincts snapped me awake, and soon enough, I was senselessly dashing out of my room and down the stairs. Only when I reached the room did I realize.
I was in Mum's white satin nightie, which she had insisted I wear, and, well, that was the only beautiful thing on the stairs at that moment.
My hair was a bedraggled mess, the coarse feel at the side of my mouth had me raising the back of my hand and wiping it off, and there it was, on my hands—drool.
Too late to rethink my decision now. So I stood there, my father and Lar's eyes on me, chin tilted up, flicking my hair back.
Pa looked from me to Lar, shut his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, then quietly excused himself. As he strolled past me on the stairs, his eyes hardened, and when I darted my gaze back to Lar, Pa grunted.
There was a loud silence after Pa left, but Lar's gaze never left mine. Every second that passed, his pupils hardened.
"It's been six years and there's no sign you grew up," Lar broke the silence. "Let me guess, you still steal bread?"
"And just enough for two." I forced a smile, refusing to let him see he was getting to me. "Why didn't you tell me in your letters that all they fed you in the academy was ego?"
Lar's eyes narrowed, his lips curling in disdain. "Be careful how you talk before your—"
"Alpha?" I scoffed. "Get a grip on yourself, 'Alpha' Lar."
His rage flared briefly before being replaced by a look of irritation. "I didn't come here to trade insults, Imani. I am King now and you will respect that." He turned his back to me and began to leave.
My eyes filled as I watched him go, and I found myself calling out, "Is it something I wrote?"
He stopped but didn't turn.
"You know how long I waited for you," I said, hating that my voice shook. It was supposed to be a snap. "And you come back and this is how you treat me? What did I ever do to you? You promised to protect me."
"I was sixteen, I was young," he said as he turned around again. "It's different now, I'm an Alpha and you're…" He shut his eyes and inhaled. "You're an Onyx."
I stayed rooted to the floor, the twist in my guts making me feel like I needed to throw up. My world seemed to spin, and my beliefs came tumbling down.
"An Onyx wolf," I echoed, whispering. "And what does that mean to you? That I'm beneath you?"
He opened his eyes, then nodded.
"That's exactly what I'm saying. It doesn't matter how many times you sit at the Arena, you'll always be weak, always be the object of scorn. But who can blame the people?"
Each time he spoke, there was a twist in my guts. Coming out was a mistake; no one deserved to see this, not even one as thick-skinned as myself.
My pupils blurred and a ball formed in my throat. "You're shallow," I gritted. "Just like the other Alphas."
"Imani!" My mother's voice hit me from behind. "Apologize to your king right this moment!"
But I was trembling in my rage, it pricked under my skin, made my tongue bitter, and there I was ready to spit venom.
"I hope you die, King Lar." I swallowed, knowing I was treading a rough path. "And if you don't, I hope King Halfdan discovers he has another son."
"Imani!"
"… An older son."
His eyes burned into my skin, and I could see him wrap his fingers around the hilt of his sword and then take a step towards me.
Even in my turmoil, I knew how stupid it was to keep running my mouth, so I raised my gown off the floor, genuflected, and veered around.
"Stay out of my way," he growled. "Stay away from the Packhouse and stay away from me."
"That won't be a problem," I murmured, increasing my pace, but as usual, the goddess had one goal—stripping me of my dignity; the hem of my Ma's gown stood in the way, and I nearly tripped on my face.
My face burned as I stood upright, sensing his gaze on my back, and as if nothing had just happened, I raised my chin, with tears in my eyes, hurried past Ma and into my room.
Even as I jammed my door closed, I could hear her apologizing to Lar. No, not Lar—'Alpha Lar.' Another assh
ole Alpha who thought the world was beneath their feet.
It was all of them.
Every one of them.