"You deserve to die." The words were a gentle yet menacing whisper. Logan could feel the sharp edge of a sickle piercing the skin of his neck softly. Blood dripped down slowly onto the ground, staining it a deeper crimson. The moon however cast the shadows of trees about it, making the colour a bit different.
Logan was held firmly in place by a strange woman in a cloak. There was something strangely familiar about her but he could not see her face clearly under the dim moonlight. "It was not his turn to die, but yours. I was going to kill you and you made him die."
"Please," Logan choked. "Let go."
"You beg to be released?" A wicked cackle emanated from the strange woman. "You are not even remorseful. You killed your father!" She roared, her voice blending in perfectly with the rumble of thunder. The blade of the sickle pierced deeper into his skin. More blood trickled down his neck as the rain began to pour buckets on him.
But why did Logan feel like it was just his face?
"You do not belong here, this is only a privilege," came the stern voice. "You cannot laze about and expect to be served. You are a commoner amongst the people; meant to be a servant."
Logan opened his eyes to be greeted by Candace Tewkesbury, the Luna of Fermyl. She held an empty bowl in her hand.
Looking at the wet bed and feeling water trickle down his face, he knew she was at it again.
"Out of the goodness of my husband's heart, we allowed you to live in the palace and not amongst servants," Candace said with contempt. "Stop taking advantage. I have told you times without number that as soon as the sun is up, you should be out helping the servants and then by noon, be at the training ground."
"I have been obeying your instructions thus far your highness," Logan said. "Forgive me for slacking this once."
She only harrumphed and exited his room.
Logan's nights were characterized by nightmares while his mornings were characterized by him being woken up by torturous methods. He was glad that today had been less brutal.
Many a time he would wake up to his skin being singed, a needle being stuck in his body or something along those lines. He wiped his face and sat up, groaning.
He looked around himself and sighed, knowing that as the Alpha King was going on a trip soon; the luxury of having this room would cease. He would be returned to the servant quarters by the queen.
He stood up from his bed and went to the bathroom. He smiled sadly seeing a bath made ready for him by the maids.
All of this will soon end. He thought to himself as he undressed.
Once he was done taking a bath and had out on fresh clothes, he walked out of his family. It was the worst part of his day as he had to stare at the unpleasant face of the Luna and her daughter.
"Good morning your majesty," he bowed to the Alpha before taking a seat. The dining was arranged in such a way that one of the long ends of the table was pushed against the wall. The king sat at one short end, the queen at the opposite end and the exposed long end had two seats. One for the princess, and another for him.
He hated that he had to sit beside her for each meal.
"Son," the king said with a smile, "You are quite late for breakfast."
There was a snort from the Queen as she heard her husband call him "son".
"I apologize your highness," Logan replied.
"Did you have trouble sleeping?" The king; Thaddeus asked.
"Not at all," Logan replied. "I had a good night's rest."
"You do not look like you did," Thaddeus said worriedly.
"The food will get cold," Luna Candace commented with a tight smile. She hated how the attention had been drawn towards Logan.
"You are right my dear," replied Thaddeus. "Let us dig in."
As courtesy mandated, Logan waited for everyone to take a bite of their food before he bit into his. He got a sneer from the Luna but did not mind.
"Father," it was Getrude that spoke. She was the King and Queen's only child. "I hear you shall be traveling."
"Ah yes." Thaddeus wiped his mouth with a napkin. "There is a meeting of Alpha's to go on at SilverLine."
"Shall you have escorts?" Logan asked, genuinely worried. Silverline was the centre between all werewolf packs. For every six full moons, the Alpha's of each pack usually held a meeting to renew peace treaties, settle disputes and whatnot but sometimes, it ended in bloody conflicts that turned into full blown wars.
"I do not think that concerns you, dear Logan" Candace said in a biting tone. "Do not involve yourself in these complex matters."
"I shall," Thaddeus replied, ignoring his wife. "I wanted you to escort me at first but I think it will be better if you stay behind and help me supervise the guards. Desdemona will most likely be present."
Logan sucked in a sharp breath at that name. Anger coursed through his veins and water was getting ready to sit at the corners of his eyes but he tried not to let his emotions show. He knew he could not afford to show any sign of weakness or bitterness.
He gave a tight smile, dropping his cutlery and then he put his hands underneath the table on his lap, balling them into fists. "I understand your concern your majesty."
As he said those words through almost gritted teeth, Logan felt a warm hand squeeze his hands under the table.
He shot a suspicious glance towards Getrude who gave him a soft and shy smile before looking away and retracting her hands.
Why on earth is she comforting me? Thought Logan to himself.