Shadow

Raedwulf Dolph

His eyes burn into mine. Aeral Ohlson... he’s the one. The other Aerals start at him in curiosity, a few glare at him in distaste.

“Aeral Ohlson...” Sage Raudebjorn has no more words. No idea on how to continue. Aerals are asked to support, but their allegiances are always assumed. To see him stand in defiance is unusual.

"He,” Ohlson spits with suck spite a few females gasp. “Is not the Khannun’s true son. A bastard.”

All eyes now turn to Mother, her panic settling into her eyes.

“They’re all bastards!”

I glance over to Hertha, then Avon. Both seem to angry at his outburst to even consider the possibilities.

“Him and that bitch don’t deserve the throne!”

“Hold on now, that is my daughter,” Aeral Torbet jumps in next. He turns to Idonia, “Tell this crazy male it isn’t true.”

Her mouth opens, but no words come out. Instead she just looks to me for an answer. Her eyes hold so much fear for the moment, panic I never though she would possess. My heart aches for her, I never thought it would hurt so much to hear the word ‘bastard’ from anyone. No on has called me one before. More than anything, I never thought it would hurt her to hear the word either.

“They cannot refute it!” Aeral Holman of Wear-Asar, starts next. “He is no Khannun!”

“Call the guard and sieze the bastard and whore Mother.” Aeral Ohlson yells next.

“Now hold on,” Mother speaks boldly. “You know nothing, you have no proof of anything.”

“Tell us Khanea,” Aeral Wray begs her. “Tell us the truth of his birth. Of all your sons so that we may crown the true Khanel.”

“Raedwulf is your true Khanel,” she tells them all. “He is the heir to the throne.”

“Who is his Father?” Aeralea Ohlson stands, straightening her back. “Who is his Father, Rika?”

Mother looks around the room, “I have told you the truth of it. Khanel Raedwulf is your true heir.”

“Khanel! What do you know of this matter?” Aeral Wray asks me next.

“I know that it is as my mother says.”

Then a hand lays on my shoulder, Khannun Kol looks at me and I look at him. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, Raedwulf.” My eyes widen as his hand flies with a dagger, burying itself into my stomach. “Bastard.”

Next I know, it is Khannun Kol’s neck that is opened. Rikki used his dagger to open his neck, the male falls, blood pooling on the floor. Someone screams. No, multiple females scream. Someone’s arms grasp me as I fall back.

“Seize the usurper!”

Soldiers flood the room. Fighting ensues, but I can’t see much. Fire slowly flows over me, Idonia is holding my hand.

“I am here, no one will hurt you,” she whispers to me. “I love you, Rae, don’t leave me.”

The sound of metal hitting metal covers the area. The fresh scent of blood wafts through the air, but it could very well be mine. Idonia stands in front of me, protecting me from the riot with a sword given to her by one of the Viker. I can’t tell who’s winning, but I can hear Idonia’s heart pumping hard in her chest.

Something is pressed into my stomach where the blade was, it burns and I growl. “Stay still,” Hertha demands, pressing the alcohol covered cloth further into my wound.

“Get him out of here, Hertha!” Avon yells at her. “Protect the Khannun.”

As Hertha and Kosta try to help me stand, something happens that makes the whole room freeze. A growl.

More like a roar. One that I’ve only heard on Theris. One that turns the sky dark. All the windows of the room go black, like the sun’s turned off. And it is no longer the males trying to kill me that are my biggest concern.

It’s the shadowbeasts.

“What the hell is that?” One of the southern Aeral’s screams as the doors are town to shreads. Black, deformed creatures burst in, growling and killing in one swipe of their claw. The beasts are missing large chucks of their fur and every eye looking over the darkened room is white. Northern males turn their attention now to the beasts as sourthern lycan run or are killed.

Ohlson comes up the isle easily now that the northerners are distracted. He rushes Idonia and their metals clash. She holds her own against him, each receiving their own injuries in the fight. One male tries to charge me as I’m held up my Hertha and Kosta.

But Kosta jumps in the way of him, killing the traitor with ease. “Get him out, Hertha.”

She tries dragging me from the room, but I resist. Trying to stay and watch the mayhem. Trying to stay with my mate.

Shadowbeasts break through the large stain-glass windows, roaring and grabbing at the lycans to eat them. A mess of black fur, screaming, blood, and metal flood the room. Chaos ensues and takes hold, and the air grows heavy.

Ohlson runs. Giving Idonia time to focus on the shadowbeasts.

And then someone else enters on the back of a shadowbeast. A black terror with a rider rushes Idonia. His skin was a sickly yellow and hair had turned white along with his eyes.

“Danal?” I choke.

No, he’s dead. He’s dead. He can’t be here. He can’t be on the back of a shadowbeast. My friend jumps off the back of the shadowbeast, his claws elongate, and with one movement of his hands, kills the male standing against him.

Aeral Torbet.

I can heard my mate cry out as her father dies. “Idonia!” I scream for her. If she could hear me, it doesn’t help. Instead, her body morphs. It shifts into a large, snow white creature standing on two legs. Her claws rip through two of the shadowbeasts before anyone can register what just happened.

My mate shifted one again. Sifting, which has thought to be an extinct trait for centuries. Many simply stare at her, but a few, a few are afraid. A few shoot arrows or try to cut her down.

But it is then that my body turns weak. The blood loss catches up to me. I’m too weak to fight Hertha and she pulls me from the throne room. She takes me out to the stables and orders a cart, immediately.

“We,” I cough a few times trying to speak. “We have to leave Bethlianna.”

“I know.”

“Bitch!” A lycan followed us. Ohlson's oldest son, Davynn, swings at Hertha. She doges as he goes left, then right; back and forth with ease. Then grasp a shit shovel and swings, ramming it over his head. He drops to the ground, still breathing, but unconscious. She grabs his sword as a stable hand comes with a cart driven by a single horse. They practically throw me in the back.

Shadowbeasts run ramad over the city and streats are red with blood. My own blood soaking the hay in the cart below me.

"Hang on, Rae."

But I cannot, and the darkness covers my eyes. My heart is with her, as my body dies.