Alexander places a hand against the glass pane window, the frost from outside creeping up to outline the edges of the warm appendage. The world outside the window is bleak, an endless blanket of white and grey from the eternal winter that plagues his kingdom. It has been plaguing his kingdom for about twenty years now.
It is beautiful in an eerie and depressing manner. When the strong winds are not slicing through the trees and the snow manages to settle down for a moment, the world outside his palace is peaceful. The trees weigh down heavily with crystalline icicles, almost touching the frozen ground beneath them. Just when he thinks the storm will stop, a new onslaught of powdery precipitation creates a new layer of bleakness.
Even the animals in the forest have changed. They blend in with their surroundings, unpigmented fur allowing them to hide from each other and from the pack. Rabbits, deer, foxes, coyotes, and even the birds were drained of their color to add to the gloom of the forest. The curse did not stop there.
His packmates were indistinguishable from each other when they were transformed. Colorless fur matches the colorless surroundings. Alexander misses the vibrant colors of his youth. Before the curse came into play. Before his uncle died. Before his aunt disappeared.
He sighs, searching the tree line for any sign of his patrol. They are out longer than usual today and it worries him. Despite the immensity of his packmates, apex predators in their territory, the land was still dangerous and unforgiving to those who wander too far. They have lost too many to the curse. But his pack was never late because they were aware of the consequences of such. His fingers tremble slightly against the glass and he clenches his hand into a fist, hating the show of weakness. They rarely tremble now, not since his illness was taken from him. Only when he was anxious, nervous, or stressed did they reveal a slight tremor.
He turns away from the window to face his spacious private study. The mahogany desk stands in front of the window, the back of the large black leather office chair facing the window. The winters are so cold that the chill can be felt through the window and deep into the office. A fireplace blazes in the far corner of the room to keep out the cold, the wood crackling under the extreme heat of the flames. A large portrait of his uncle, the previous king, and his aunt smile down at him from above the mantel.
His uncle, King Richard, was a largely built man, with strong shoulders and a bulky figure. He was regal, with fiery auburn hair and beard and dark emerald eyes. His aunt sat underneath him, his hand placed on top of her shoulder as she held her hand over his. She was a beautiful woman, with a small, delicate figure and wintery white curls framing her angelic face. Her sapphire blue eyes sparkle in the portrait as if the artist had been able to perfectly capture the glistening orbs in a lifelike manner. His uncle died when he was around the age of five and his aunt disappeared for a long time after losing her mate. That was when the curse hit. Or whatever this storm was. The only logical conclusion was a curse.
The rest of the room was lavishly furnished in white to match the bleak winter storm outside. A love seat rests along the wall closest to the fire along with an overstuffed armchair with a black floor lamp looming over it. A perfect reading area. A fluffy white carpet settles in front of both pieces of furniture. The wall closest to the study doors had bookshelves built from wall to wall, floor to ceiling. Books of every size, every shape, and every language filled the wooden shelves. This was his sanctuary.
The stillness of the room was interrupted as the wooden door of the study swung open with a heavy thud. Alexander quickly turns to see his beta, Aaron, enter the study along with their third-in-command, Luca, and two other guards. The four men stop in the middle of the study and bow to Alexander, as is necessary. Aaron steps forward, huffing slightly as if he had run back.
"Your Majesty, we located the strange scent in a clearing in the forest. Upon investigation, we discovered a partial mound. The soil seems to have been freshly dug, it has a mud-like consistency, and…" Aaron pauses, unsure how to proceed.
"Spit it out, Aaron. What else did you find?" Alexander asks impatiently.
"You're not going to believe me when I tell you, Alpha."
"Try me," Alexander challenges.
"There are flowers growing all over the mound," Luca speaks up before Aaron can. Aaron scolds as Alexander stares at him in disbelief.
"Flowers? In this storm? In our curse? How?" Alexander rapidly fires off questions, muscles tensing at the news. This was impossible. Nothing grew in these harsh conditions.
"We're unsure, Alpha. We think that you should come to investigate as well," Aaron suggests.
Alexander contemplates the new information, confused and troubled by the concept of a fresh mound being out in the forest. Who had managed to enter the curse? And why were they digging around in the frozen earth? He was even more concerned about the freshly grown flowers in the middle of the harsh winter storm. How had flowers managed to grow in the eternal winter? Before he could decide what his next course of action should be, the door slammed open again, revealing another guard. They were out of breath as well, shock written all over their face.
"Alpha," they gasp, struggling to catch their breath. "Come quick."
"What has happened? Is anyone hurt?" Alexander demands. He starts to head towards the other guard and the door, Aaron, Luca, and the other two guards right on his heels.
"No sir. There's… there's someone buried in the mound."
Alexander freezes, blinking slowly. "Can you repeat that? I thought I heard you say that someone was buried in the mound?"
"I did, Your Majesty."
"How do you know this? We told everyone to leave the mound undisturbed until we came back!" Aaron says to the guard angrily. The guard bows his head in submission, trembling slightly at the authority of his Beta.
"We left it alone, Beta. We promise. The person is trying to crawl out of the mound, their hands suddenly emerged from it!"
The five men look at each other with varying degrees of shock, confusion, and disbelief. Alexander grabs his coat from the rack near the door, throws it on, and looks toward the guard.
"Take us to the mound, now."
_
The group makes it to the snow-covered clearing, the harsh winter wind ruffling their hair back. The clearing is surrounded by dense tree foliage and the royal guard, who all face the mound of dirt in the center with varying degrees of trepidation and disbelief, even a little bit of horror. It is covered in bright blue flowers. Chicory flowers, to be exact. Alexander remembers reading about them in one of his books as a child. They are vibrant against the pale background. Noticing the movement against the muddy dirt, Alexander is able to make out a pair of hands clawing at the dirt, attempting to free itself from its muddy prison.
"Why hasn't anyone tried to help them?!" he demands furiously, making his way over to the mound. His guards remain silent, unsure how to answer their Alpha. Aaron quickly grabs his arm, holding him back.
"Let someone else help. We don't know who could be under there," he tries to reason.
"Is anyone going to volunteer?" the Alpha demands, glaring around the ring of guards. Everyone avoids his gaze, looking down at the snow-covered ground.
"I'll do it, sir. Just stay here," Aaron tells him, releasing his arm to make his way over to the mound.
Everyone watches with bated breath as Aaron climbs up the dirt, the mud already starting to cake his shoes and clothing. He watches the hands for a moment, noticing patches of pale skin and long, unkempt nails impaling the mud. He starts digging around the appendages, avoiding accidentally scratching the arms as he exposes more of the body underneath. The pale hands grab onto his arms, long nails digging into his coat like a lifline. He loosens the mud before grabbing onto the arms, making sure to have a firm grip along the elbows and pulls. Aaron wiggles and yanks, trying to not cause the person underneath any unnecessary discomfort until a head emerges from the dirt, gasping in its first lungful of air.
He notices feminine features caked underneath layers of dirt and mud. Long lashes, a button nose, full lips. He cannot tell her hair color, it is so matted with dirt. Her eyes stand out the most, a vivid sapphire blue amongst the filth on her face. She gasps in large lungfuls of air, clawing at his arms desperately. Aaron continues pulling until he is able to loosen up her shoulders enough to wrap his arms around her chest, below her armpits, and completely pull her out. She wraps her arms around his neck, clinging to him as he pulls her completely free of the mound.
"It's a woman, Alpha!" Aaron shouts back, holding onto her as her knees buckle, unable to stand. She grips onto him tighter, blearily looking around. He notices she's in a prom dress, though it is completely covered in mud. It's all she is wearing. No coat and no shoes. He slowly lowers her down onto the ground, removing her arms from him. He takes his coat off and wraps it around her to help keep the winter chill off of her.
She shivers slightly in the cold, muddy hair falling around her face. She lifts her head up as the wind whips past her and towards the direction of Alexander. Their eyes lock as her scent fills his nostrils. The warm scent of vanilla and sunshine hits him forcefully as deep blue eyes pierce through him. He couldn't remember the last time he felt or smelt sunshine. It was warm and inviting and sent tingles down his spine. Only one thought circles through his head as he steps forward.
"Mate."