Chapter 6 Standing Ground

The heat from the burning tower hit us immediately, turning the crisp white snow of the central courtyard into a thick, freezing grey slush. My bare feet sank right into the ice water, but I couldn't care about the cold. Not with what was waiting for us.

The long line of mounted vanguard archers kept their arrows pulled back tight, the black tips pointed straight at my face. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Then, the line split right down the center.

The heavy, rhythmic splash of hooves broke the silence as a massive black stallion walked through the gap. The rider pulled the reins, stopping the beast ten feet away.

It was Brandon.

He sat high in his gold-trimmed armor, the heavy red cape of the Bloodmoon Alpha King hanging over his shoulders. He didn't look at the fire. He looked straight down at me, his lip pulling back into a sneer of absolute disgust. He looked at my tattered dress, my messy hair, and the soot on my skin like I was dirt beneath his boots. Then, his eyes moved over to Lucien, who was still leaning heavily against his sword by my side.

"Well, look what we have here," Brandon shouted, his voice ringing across the open space. "The great, broken Evercrest defect trying to crawl away in the dark. And look who she found to run with. King Lucien Draven. The mighty northern tyrant, reduced to raiding burning prisons to look for garbage."

Lucien didn't drop his stance. He forced his back straight, his knuckles turning white around the hilt of his broadsword as he held his ground. "You talk too much, Brandon. Your whole territory is falling to pieces, your own guards are turning into skinless monsters down in the barracks, and you're out here playing dress-up."

"My territory is perfectly under control," Brandon snapped, his face darkening as he gripped his leather reins tighter. "We are simply cleaning house. Purging the weak. And that starts right here with you two. Did you really think you could just stroll out of my gates, Draven? Especially in your condition? I can smell the rot on your beast from all the way over here."

I stepped slightly out from behind Lucien’s massive frame, my boots splashing in the grey slush. "If you came out here just to talk, Brandon, you're wasting your breath. Why don't you get off that horse and do something?"

Brandon’s eyes snapped directly to mine, his expression twisting into pure fury. "Shut your mouth, human! You don't have a name anymore. You don't have a pack, you don't have a rank, and you certainly don't have the right to look at me, let alone speak to me. You are nothing but a stain on the history of the Bloodmoon lineage!"

"Seven years in that cold room didn't kill me," I said, keeping my voice dead even, looking him straight in the eye. "And a bunch of arrows aren't going to make me start begging now."

"You think you're brave because you found a dying foreign king to hide behind?" Brandon laughed, a harsh, ugly sound that made the archers shift in their saddles. He straightened his spine, his chest puffing out beneath his breastplate as he took a deep, heavy breath. "Let's see how brave you feel when you're forced to remember exactly what you are."

Brandon opened his jaw, and a sound tore out from his throat that made the very air in the courtyard turn solid.

It was the dominant Alpha Command.

The raw, vocal frequency hit the space like a physical brick wall. It wasn't just a shout; it was a wave of pure magical pressure designed to slam into the internal wolf of any supernatural being, crushing their mind and forcing their body to drop to the ground in total, mindless obedience.

The surrounding horses immediately went wild. They whinnied in pure terror, thrashing their heads against their iron bits and rearing back into the deep snow drifts. The archers grunted, their faces tightening up as they struggled to stay in their seats under the sheer force of their own leader's voice.

Right next to me, Lucien let out a pained groan. His jaw clenched so hard the muscles in his cheeks looked like stone. His silver eyes went wide, the thick dark veins around his pupils pulsing violently as the vocal command slammed straight into his infected, dying Lycan beast. His knees trembled. The metal plates of his heavy leg guards rattled together as he fought with everything he had left to stay upright. He drove the tip of his sword deep into the frozen dirt, using it like a crutch just to keep his body from hitting the slush.

"Down!" Brandon roared again, doubling the pressure wave, his eyes locked on Lucien. "Kneel before your rightful king!"

Lucien sank an inch lower, his breath coming out in ragged, pained hitches as sweat poured down his face despite the freezing air. The mental weight was visibly flattening him. He couldn't move a muscle.

But I just stood there.

I looked down at my hands. They weren't shaking. I looked back up at Brandon.

Because I had no wolf, because there was absolutely no internal beast inside my chest for his magic to grab onto, the great Alpha Command was nothing but empty, loud noise to my human ears. It was just a man screaming in the snow.

I took a slow, deliberate step forward.

Brandon’s voice suddenly faltered, the chant cutting off right in his throat. His eyes went wide as I took another step, my bare feet splashing softly in the melting ice. I wasn't bending. I wasn't bowing. I walked straight through the invisible pressure wave, my head held high, looking right at his face.

"What... what is this?" Brandon muttered, his face turning pale as he stared down at me in absolute horror. "Why aren't you on your knees? Fall down! I commanded you to fall!"

"You forgot, Brandon," I said, my voice echoing clearly in the sudden silence of the courtyard. "You can't command what isn't there. Your little alpha tricks don't work on me."

The surrounding vanguard guards began to whisper among themselves, their faces filled with utter shock. Their future Alpha King had just unleashed his absolute power, and a wolfless human was walking through it like it was nothing. The public humiliation was total. It was a massive slap to his pride right in front of his entire army.

"You freak!" Brandon screamed, his face turning a furious, bright red.

He wrenched his heavy broadsword from its leather sheath with a wild, metallic screech. His eyes went completely bloodshot with pure, uncontrollable rage. He dug his iron spurs deep into the sides of his black stallion, spraying red-stained slush into the air.

"I'll cut you down myself!" he roared.

The massive horse snorted, its hooves tearing up the wet ground as it charged straight forward, aiming to trample my human body right into the dirt.