"Beatrice, my beloved."
"Ha."
Two werewolves were standing in front of each other, one of them was clad in white and a serene smile plastered across her face, while the other was slightly shaking as she tried to support her weight.
Her tattered black clothes were wet, sticky, and uncomfortable. Dry blood coated her skin that was exposed, in addition to her countless injuries.
She scoffed at the woman in white clothes and shook her arms roughly, causing the loud noises of chains rattling against each other to fill this humid cave.
"Oh, dear Beatrice, why are you acting like this?" the woman in white spoke softly, her words dripping with sickening sweetness.
But the chained woman, Beatrice, only gave her a bored look.
"Queen, you should know that someone of your status mustn't come to the dungeons. What if someone was unable to hold themselves back and twisted that fragile neck of yours? Or worse…" she chuckled darkly before looking the Queen up and down and continuing, "What if someone couldn't hold themselves and rushed at you? Your pathetic body will no longer be able to hold the facade of purity."
The Queen's face never changed, she stepped closer to Beatrice and caressed her head.
"I know you are feeling angry, I can smell it. And honestly." she paused, then with a swift movement, she yanked Beatrice's head back and her fingers traced her pulse point.
"I don't think you fully realize your position. Even if you anger me to the point I would want to kill you with every fiber of my being, I wouldn't allow this to happen."
Beatrice growled, her gaze never leaving the Queen who casually added:
"Your death must be in public. Every single member of the pack will have to hear how the Protector of our pack almost brought our demise while I, Alicia, saved everyone and even sacrificed my happiness by marrying a human to secure our safety."
A bright smile blossomed on her face.
"And this is all thanks to you!"
"Heh. Dirty slut–"
SLAP.
The Queen's smile turned into a cold one as she patted Beatrice's cheek as if she didn't slap her just now. "Oh now, that won't do, Beatrice."
She gently consoled the woman who would be leaving this world tomorrow.
"You can rest, I'll make sure everyone treats you well today. Eat well, sleep well, and appreciate every breath you take. Because after tomorrow, you won't have the chance to do that."
Once Beatrice was left alone, she lost her defiant expression and kneeled in the middle of her blood. Her sensitive nose was wailing from the disgusting noise of rot and death in this dungeon, but her body had no strength to fight.
'I did everything and the result was failure.'
As the Protector of the pack, her duty was to protect everyone without any discrimination. It was a duty engraved deeply into her bones — one that made her unable to kill this traitor who became a Queen by betraying her.
Because the one that was betrayed wasn't the pack, but Beatrice herself. Just based on that, she couldn't lay a finger on this filthy Queen.
'But I don't want to die.'
That was the only thing she could think through the whole empty night.
•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•
Woooo—!
Owooooo—!
'You all are being too loud, hahaha..' Beatrice wryly laughed inside her mind. She had been dragged to this public execution location where the pack she loved so much could see her condition on full display.
"Beatrice."
The Queen stood before her, her simple words made everyone silent as they watched their new leader deciding the fate of their former Protector.
How should they feel? The Queen would say they should be happy, and Beatrice would say they should feel pained to have to part with her.
But in reality, the pack only howled with their instincts. Some of them felt pained, some felt betrayed, and many only wanted to move on.
The Protector was a being that was bound to protect the pack. If by any chance and for any reason, the Protector failed in that, they would lose the title and any privilege coming with it.
And in more serious cases, death awaits.
The majority of the pack were disappointed at that and wanted to move on. Their rules and traditions were deeply rooted inside them to the point they had no wish to resist.
Seeing that, the smile of the Queen thickened. The people behind her were cheering her on by their own ways, and she couldn't help the rush of ecstasy that crawled beneath her skin.
Her sword—already stained by blood from previous executions—grazed the neck of the former Protector of the pack.
"Do you remember what I always told you, Beatrice?" she gently asked while raising her sword. "The crowd that's howling for your success and support today, the same crowd that applauds during your coronation is the same crowd that's going to howl for your downfall."
A wry smile crept to her face, "People only like a good show."
With that, her sword fell, cutting off Beatrice's neck as the pack howled with emotions that no one could understand.
At the same moment Beatrice felt the sword slice through her skin, she prayed. A desperate player that was most likely meaningless, but she still did it.
'O' Moonlit Goddess, hear my plea,
If my fall is what you've longed to see,
Or if my pain brought misery,
I beg you now, please answer me.
A second chance is all I seek to see.'
And then her life ended, with her head separated from the body and being thrown down some hill without even a proper burial. It was all the Queen's arrangement.
However, something happened when she was there.
A warm, gentle voice echoed through the hill and engulfed her broken body with a bright aura.
⟬O' fragile child who seeks my grace,
Your pain is not my wish to place,
Beneath my glow, your heart set free,
The chance you crave shall come to be.⟭