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Destiny

My palms are sweaty, my head spinning, my eyes burning, and my mind running though a thousand of different questions.

Eyes are focused around me, the whole room silent, the atmosphere tense as I don't know what to think. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say.

"Well?"

My focus goes back to him, those pale green eyes staring back at me as every ounce of me begs to run. "Are you going to accept, or be pathetic?"

The watchers gasp, my jaw clenching as the beast within me dares to escape and display possession, to display that he is mine. "Goddess, Sybil, just accept it," the girl next to him hisses, running a hand through her natural blond hair.

Natalie Simmons, the natural beauty of the pack, the girl who I thought was always a friend. Until today, until she realized someone else threatened her future role, her future title.

As my eyes begin to water, I look back to him, the pressure of all those watching me causing me to try and figure out my response faster. "Do you, Sybil Black, accept the rejection of Alpha Sebastian David's of Shadow Woods?" He asks, that voice causing my wolf to feel the wanting of her mate, threatening to break loose and claim him.

"I-I," I sob, holding a hand up to my mouth as the tears begin. "I accept your-your rejection." My heart splits in two as the pain I've only heard about begins within me.

"Then I hear by deem you, Sybil Black, as rogue."

ONE

"No, I don't think you understand what I'm getting at," I hiss, watching the man lean back in his chair, crossing his arms. "I'm not someone who can be pushed around like this, I've worked hard here, harder than anyone else here!" I yell, watching as my boss sighs, shaking his head.

"Listen, Sybil, we have to make these cuts, besides, this business is going under in a matter of weeks."

I nod, feeling the tears well up. "I know this is your only source of income, but Sybil, your resume is beautiful and you're a hard worker, I'll make sure to give you a great recommendation letter."

Sighing, I grab my purse and last paycheck, leaving his office as my eyes well up quickly. Damnit! Just when I thought fate was being nicer, allowing me to find a job that paid the rent and bills. Just when I was getting accustomed to the big city of New York City, just as I was settling down-BAM- I got let go of because of some stupid money mistake for the business that the owner had made.

Checking my watch, I begin my usual walk back to my small apartment located in the basement of a married couple's house.

Ever since I was declared rogue, it hasn't been a walk in the park. Goddess, heat was a miserable experience, not just the pain of rejection, but the pain of being in heat and no one to aid you. I was all alone.

My parents come up twice a week, driving two hours to see me, making sure I'm safe and taken care of. Next semester they have me set up to do duel credit at a community college, allowing me to have the rest of the semester off from my rejection. As for that bas*ard, I want to watch him burn. How could the goddess pair us together?

I take a left turn, deciding to instead spend another hour at the park, just to probably do people watching or read a book online. Pulling the jacket tighter around my body, I find a bench after a short stroll, taking a seat next to the bridge were people pass bye. There's the usual workout group of women here, the typical gym gurus, no sweat showing, there's a number of moms with their children, men on break from work as they have from food, and your usual tourists.

Leaning back on the bench, I pull out my phone, and right away I see a missed call. Mom.

I ignore it.

For a good thirty minutes I'm reading some science fiction novel, and then, as a strong breeze makes it way past me, I catch the most heavenly scent I've ever smelt. No, not like a mate's, for if he was here, I'd be willing to chop off his dick. It's a scent that reels you in, one that entices you in a mysterious smell. I can't place my finger on the exact scent, as it's mixed with so many beautiful smells, but the scent forces my eyes open right away.

I look around for the man or woman who carries the scent, only to remain unsuccessful as the people around me all smell completely different.

Goddess, that's got to be my favorite scent in the whole world.

Getting to my feet, I try and pick up a trail of the scent, holding my head high as I take in deep breathes, only to find no trace.

My wolf grows impatient and I find myself groaning, placing my phone back in my purse and walk back to the street I need to head back home on.

As I try and squeeze through a few tourist groups, someone grapes my purse from me, dashing off with it.

"HEY!"

People turn their attention to me as the male runs off with my purse, me pushing through as I see the man in the gray hoodie and black hat running away.

As I get free from the group, I call after the man. My legs begin to burn as I want to shift into my wolf. Lucky for him he has a head start.

"Hey, jackass, get back here you mother fker!"

Some are shocked by my language as I run after the man, seeing him jump over a small creek, only, as he does, he meets the fist of a man, sending him back into the creek as the man takes hold of my purse.

I don't even look to the man who stopped the thief as I rush over the rest of the fifteen yards, landing a swift and painful kick right to the man's balls. "You jackass," I yell, landing one more blow.

"Christ, lady," the man groans in pain as I step on his leg, walking over to whoever got my purse.

However, just as I look up, just as my eyes meet his, I know I'll never be the same.

Golden brown, a color I'll never forget, the bright flakes in the orbs just making me fall head over heels even more. The man is breathtaking as I just stare into his eyes, him doing the same, and as I take a deep breath of his scent, I recognize it instantly. The scent that had me obsessed earlier, that had me searching.

And that's when I realize it, not just the scent or the eyes, but the other bit of his presence, the authority, power, the ranking.

He's wolf, but not just wolf, but someone who could have me beheaded without anyone questioning him.

Right away I bow my head, thinking of if he'll have me hanged for not bowing before, if he'll hang me for being rogue. But then, only packs care about rogues, only if on their lands. hell, the royal family rather likes rogues, those who are strong.

The royal family.

Oh no.

"Don't do that here."

Goddess, his voice, the voice of a god, not like Zeus or Poseidon, but like Hades, like Ares, if what I'm saying is even making sense. Not only filled with power, deep and husky, but also dark and mysterious, holding a sense of authority that you don't want to mess with, one who could kill you in one punch.

Snapping my head back up, I'm surprised to see his eyes still the same familiar golden that I've fallen for instantly.

"I'm sorry, my Kin-

"Zion."

"Zion?" That's his name, that I know and have known since he took the throne, but never, not in millions of years, thought that the Alpha King would have me call him by his first name and nothing else. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I must be going. Thank you for your good deed," I thank, watching as his jaw clenches. Oh man, the jaw line, the sharp features.

His chocolate brown locks look thick and silky, easily combed back yet messy from the wind, his shoulders broad, height taller than I would have even thought of based upon pictures, and his body....don't get me started on the toned and beautiful body of a man who works very well on it.

My wolf thinks about just taking a peek, lifting up that dress shirt as items tucked and seeing the row of abs he has.

"Name?"

"Sybil Opitz, Sir."

"Sir?" He's getting irritated, his eyes beginning to darken as my skin pales.

"...Zion."

He looks relieved to hear that, his name, his eyes going back to that beautiful shade as his eyes take in my body, from my brown hair in a massive mess from my hard work day, to my brown eyes, to my body that's hidden behind a pair of jeans and a thick jacket. No doubt you can tell between us two who had money and who is struggling just enough for a meal.

Suddenly, out of no where, my arm is taken, not harshly, but enough that he's got my attention, pulling me away from the man and closer to him. "Alp-Zion, where am I going? I have to get back-

He pulls me with him towards a car parked by the park, a Maserati parked with some people staring. "I have to go home."

"You look old enough to have a mate, to have found one, am I correct?"

I freeze, my body tensing as he awaits my answer. "Yes, I have found mine."

His eyes darken. "Yet you do not bear his mark." My throat becomes dry as I give him a hesitant nod. "Why is that?"

The car unlocks and he walks around to the passenger side, opening the door for me.

"Where am I going?"

"Answer the damn question," he snaps, his voice deep as he awaits me, his eyes becoming black as his body becomes stuff.

"I was rejected. Where am I going?"

He grabs my arm, practically thrusting me into the car and shuts the door. The leather against my skin makes me take in just where I am, the car I'm in, and the fear of that I have no clue what is going on.

"You, Sybil," he begins as he hops in, turning on the car, right away speeding out as he drives like a mad man around the fairly traffic. "Are coming back with me... to the palace."

"Why?" I ask, watching as his eyes meet mine, one of his hands brushing a strand of hair away from my face, the left side of my neck exposed. His fingers trace where the crook of my neck is, tracing patterns upon the flesh as my wolf hums.

"Because," he begins once more, looking deep into my eyes as his fingers stop upon my skin. "You're mine."

TWO

It massive, beyond perfect, not a flaw in sight, and set up just how I've heard it to be. Whenever the Alpha or an Elder from my pack would visit, I would always crowd around them as they described the beauty of the land and building. They would express in beautiful words the appearance of the grand hall, the throne room, the gardens, and so much more as I dreamt I was the one walking through the halls and staring up above at the sky-tall ceiling.

And now, as I look upon the massive structure for the first time, my heart skips a beat and my soul feels heavy.

The palace is gorgeous beyond what I would picture it to be. Surrounded by an enchanted wall crafted centuries ago, only those of a supernatural race can see it. If a human passes by, they simple are teleported to the opposite side (which humans finding the castle means they must be very lost).

"I'm glad you like it."

I'm brought back into reality as those golden eyes meet mine, reminding me what is happening. How I was let go of today at work, had my purse stolen, and then, out of all the chance in the world, ran into the Alpha King. But not only that, no, he also practically threw me into his car and said I was 'his.' Whatever his reasons are, they had better be damn good.

"It's a masterpiece, anyone would fall in love with it."

The air tenses as I notice his hands grip the wheel a bit tighter. "Some people grow a tolerance for it." Not responding, I look outside once more, the tall and thick trees isolating us from the human world, the luscious green leaves making me think of Spring.

As the car drives on, a bridge awaits, one of light brown stone that goes over a river, one alive with a current and fish, the water crystal clear. The castle is located on a rather big circle of land on the muddle of a massive lake, one built by elves centuries upon centuries ago. I've heard of the magical building of this place, how mermaids still swim in the waters and elves provide the Wolf Council wisdom.

"Tell me, Sybil, who was this man to reject you."

He doesn't have respect for me, for asking a question like that to a wolf you do not know shows little to none, something frowned upon. Not to mention the King just asked me that.

My blood boils at the thought of the Alpha who cast me aside and claimed me a rogue, who gave no damn thought to having me as a mate, as a Luna, only thinking I could not satisfy. Sure, I was never the prettiest, but I'm not ugly, I at least know that.

"Just someone from my pack, someone immature," I reply, looking down to my hands as I look at the chipped red polish on my nails, finding more interest in them as the memories come back.

A warm set of fingers push their way through my hair, pushing past the knots and thick locks, causing me to tilt my head to the side a bit. I'm silent, knowing it's not wise to fight back against the King, that it's like awaking a dragon if you steal it's gold.

"Is that why you ran?" On the inside, I scoff, knowing full well it was not my decision to be made rogue. However, I don't say the truth, but rather nod, showing someone weak rather than someone who was made a victim and had no choice. His warm fingers leave my hair, only to land between my hands, pulling one out of my lap and onto his.

My face heats up, not knowing what to react with, but all I know is that I'm confused. His body is warm like any wolf's, but also hard, like any warrior's body, causing me to feel embarrassed that I'm thinking of his body. I shouldn't. Goddess, I don't know what even to think of the King right now other than confusion as to why he wants me at the palace.

As we approach the castle, the drawbridge is lowered over the small space between the bridge and lake. One more yard of his tires rotating and we plummet into the water. Looking above, I see the walls, six stories high, thick, and guards walking in or along it. For sure it still upholds the century old custom of the guards at the gate.

As the drawbridge is lowered and the car rolls through, it feels like I've just seen the biggest estate in the world. It's not small, that's for sure. The castle looks as if it stretches for miles high, the multiple towers at the most, eleven stories high, the stone still smooth and polished, the castle doors on the second floor, a row of marble steps leading up as the castle surrounds the courtyard. Just the courtyard itself could be a mansion. Time has done this place well.

But then it hits me, how I'm here, at the palace, with no way out, and the orders of the King keeping me here. If I ran, the guards could shoot me. My face grows pale as the car comes to a stop and the King hops out, fixing his suit as he walks around to my side, just as a man in a navy uniform descends down the stairs. He's what you would expect as a butler.

The door to my side opens, and the second the man spots me, he comes to a halt. "My Lord, is this your mate?"

What? What's going on? Everyone has a mate, and I know for sure I'm not the King's mate. At the least I look like a servant girl to these people.

The King takes my hand, pulling me out as a younger male, around sixteen, takes the keys and drives the car off, no doubt to some massive garage. The older man looks at me, taking me in, but not like the King, but in a way to see if I look like I could be fit for something.

"Angelo, make sure that my Council meeting is pushed back five hours, I must show Lady Sybil around."

Lady? I'm confused here. I'm confused as to why the King even needs me here, why he even wants me here, a poor and rogue female with no mate.

My arm is grasped by his hand, his shadow castes upon my frame as he leads me up the marble steps, my wolf on cloud nine. It's considered a great deal for anyone to step foot upon the palace floors or even in the walls when there's no ball. If you attend meetings here or are brought by the King, your considered great respected.

Outside of the human world, the supernatural one is filled with customs and traditions, magic and creatures that are hidden. Packs live in the human world as a movement from five centuries ago, trying to help socialize the two creatures together in harmony, but the human world still has no clue we exist.

As we approach the last step, I look over my shoulder, the guards on the walls, the people trimming the hedges, the people who work here, the way it functions. For sure this will be a story to tell. But tell who? When will the King send me off? Surely soon, I mean, I have a life out there and family. Possibly what could the King want with a rogue?

"Sybil, I'd suggest you take on the view ahead," the King comments, his voice enticing me in a spell as I turn my head around to the doors as the open, the heavy does sounding with an echoing thump as they are pulled fully open. My jaw drops at the main entrance, the simple yet elegant hall, wide and long, leading to the throne room. The white marble floors are polished, marble pillars leading to the throne room, statues of heroes from Werewolf history on the sides, chandeliers hanging from the tall ceiling that's painted with beautiful and rich colors of clouds and Selene.

"It's breathtaking," I whisper, my voice echoing around the walls as I'm pulled further to the throne room, my nerves kicking up as my fingers shake.

The King; however, let's go of my arm, letting me walk on my own as I'm aware of his eyes upon me, scanning my body, making me feel a tad uneasy.

The throne room is massive, stretching far and wide, a simple navy carpet, slim and long, leading from the steps of the hall to the steps of the throne. Upon the stairs of the throne is the chair, the one plaited in platinum, carved with such detail of leaves and vines, a plush and silky cushion for the ruler, the back rest of the chair going tall, a simple stone of Opal at the point. "The elves must have crafted this," I whisper, not wanting to disrupt the silence that the room holds.

Looking over my shoulder, I see him, staring, leaning against a pillar, a smug look upon his face. "I take it you now sit upon the throne," I comment, putting my hands behind my back as I circle the massive room. "Where are the guards?"

"I dismissed them before we came in, I wanted to get some privacy," he speaks. The world of magic that isolates us from the human world is like a completely separate world, still founded upon the old ways, but sill keeping up with the modern world. There are councils in every supernatural race, those appointed by their noble or royal blood as they help craft the rules and talk of relationships with other races.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"My King, you brought me here, a random rogue from New York, and so have clue as to why."

His face hardens, moving quickly towards me as his footsteps echo across the room, his walk like a predator as my face grows pale. "Your Mag-

He growls, making me stop my words as a harsh yet gentle hand moves around my neck, squeezing tightly as my breath hitches. "For you, you call me Zion, and that's a royal order."

I nod, afraid not to as a sly grin plays across his face. He lowers his hand and I'm left unsure of what to think as he cocks his head to the side, cupping my chin to look up to him. "I want you here, Sybil, because I need to have you."

"Why?" I ask, my voice weak as he smiles.

"Like I said, you're mine."

He takes off, walking to a doorway to the left, leaving me speechless and confused. Doesn't he have a mate? I know for sure we are not mates, not in a million years could we feel the sparks.

"Are you coming, Sybil? I have a castle to show you."

I follow, unsure of what to come as he waits for me by the doorway, and once I'm there, he does the same thing, moving my head to the side, exposing my neck as he traces patterns upon my skin.But it's no odd location that he traces. No.

It's a location where the mark is typically placed.

THREE

The breeze sends my hair flying all over my face, my hands reaching up to pull it back as I take in the view before me. The colorful sunset as the colors range from lilac to the softest orange so could ever imagine. From here, I can see the quite big nearby village, one where the council members stay or nobles and royals who have no need for packs. From up here I witness the world as it truly is, a masterpiece, yet dark.

Looking over my shoulder, I see him still where he left me, under the doorway of the balcony of a tea room, one of the many rooms located on this single tower, holding a massive balcony as well as it overlooks the world. "Ready?" He asks, pushing off and taking steps closer to me.

For nearly three hours he's showed me the castle, the halls, the grand rooms, the most important to the simplest. To say the least, this palace was truly built to be one for Kings and Queens.

"I believe so," I reply, turning around to face him as he draws a year away. Since we started the tour, he's left me to my space, my person bubble, but that doesn't stop his eyes. We don't move, I awaiting for him to make that move as we stay still upon the balcony several stories up. "Don't you have a council meeting?"

I don't know why I brought it up to be honest, I just need a conversation topic, plus, a little extra roaming on my own wouldn't be too bad. But what is he going to do with me? Is he going to send me home once the day is done? Why am I still here still rings through my head.

"It can wait," the King mumbles, cocking his head to the side as those golden eyes look deep into mine, reading me in places I never knew existed. "I have much to tell you."

"Of what?" I begin to back away, taking little steps here and there, only for him to catch on as he follows, a smug look upon his face. Of course he would love a chase, a game of catch the prey, any wolf loves that game. It's instincts.

My back hits the marble railing, my breath hitching as they King almost has his chest against mine, his lips dangerously near mine as he bends down to my size, his arms locking me in as they are on either side of me. "Your Majesty, I really do this you should attend this meeti-

His body is flush against mine, making me feel so small, so fragile, and as I stand here, Sebastian's eyes flash through my mind, hate and sadness taking over my heart and wolf. As if sensing something is wrong, hands come up to caress my face, but I push them away.

I'm shocked. I also push the King away, walking to the other side of the balcony as my wolf can feel the pain once more of losing her mate, as can I. "Why? Why are you doing this? It makes no sense! We both have mates. Although I was rejected I have still found mine, and I bet you have as well," I speak, not daring take a breath as I needed those words to come out of me.

He looks taken back actually, his eyes turning a bit hard as I cross my arms. Just then it hits me, that I was rude to the King, to a man who could have me hanged before the sun disappears. I instantly kneel, bowing my head in respect as my heart skips a beat. "I am sorry my King, I forgot my place," I apologize, seeing his feet near, his scent once more overwhelming me.

A hand is rested upon my head, the fingers running through my locks as he does a tisking noise. "Sybil, you are so innocent to the situation around you."

"My Lord, it is because nothing has been clarified as to why I am here and when I will go back home," I express, feeling as fingers move from my hair to my jaw, tracing the bone as my head is raised. As I meet those eyes, something tells me his explanation will be one to dread her press on for. He brings me to my feet, pulling me from the balcony and back into the massive sitting room used for tea or reading, multiple chairs circling different tables or on their own, small or large tables, violet walls, a polished white and black marble floor, and a painting over a fireplace in the back of a waterfall in a forest.

"What have I told you about what to call me?" he begins, taking hold of my arm as he pulls me out of the room, up a set of stairs I still have yet to see. As we make our way out of the sight of the sitting room, I'm pushed against the wall, the King trapping me in as my skin pales. "I've told you the name to call me, so why have you disobeyed your King?"

My fingers begin to shake as he watches me, awaiting my reply as he brings his face closer to mine. "It just seems inappropriate for a rogue who does not know you not is a noble or royal to call you by your first name." He nods, one hand moving as it cups my cheek, brushing my skin as Sebastian plays over and over again in my head.

"As to why you are here, Sybil, I've expressed that twice by now directly. So, tell me, what have I told you?"

That I'm your's, I think to myself, but know better than to state it like that. If I say it like that, I know that's what he wants, that he wants me to say I am his. He wants me to fall into that trap. Who knows what the wording of that sentence, once spoken, could land me. I've heard much of the King, how getting what he wants is no trouble, and getting who he wants is not hard at all. So as to why he wants a rogue within the palace walls still confuses me.

"You've told me that I am your's," I reply softly, watching a hint of defeat pass through his eyes. I'm not as nieve of the King thought. "But still have not expressed how or why I am."

As if those are the words to set him off, I'm shocked to the fullest and don't know what to think or how to act as my head is pulled by my hair, my neck on full display as a pair of canines glaze over the skin. I'm scared to death, yet at the same time, a part of me (including my wolf) is daring him to take the bite, to seal the mark. For a claim more powerful than magic to appear.

Suddenly, he backs up, his face shadowed, those eyes glowing in the darkness as I wonder what my parents will think when they cannot reach me at my flat or I tell them what had happened.

"Marisa, see that Lady Sybil is shown to her chambers while I am in my meeting."

My eyes snap to a woman who descends the stairs from the tower, her face showing shocked emotions as she spots the King. Her head bows immediately as I see her to be a maid, dressed in a simple black skirt and white button up shirt, her blond hair pulled back in a tight bun, and her blue eyes locked on me. "Of course, your majesty."

He leaves, sparing me no glance as I watch his back move with every step, how the muscles flex, making me feel perverted for just a small stare. "Lady Sybil, if you will follow me."

I do, finding myself soon crossing past the massive sitting lounge on the first floor, the couches dating decades back being polished or dusted by maids, the chandeliers reached by laters, and the tall and narrow windows reaching the ceiling being cleaned as well. We cross the room and after several halls, I come to a set of French double doors, golden designs upon the doors, brass knobs.

Two men pull open the door, both dressed in navy, bowing their heads to me as Marisa explains that this is the North Wing, one of the four towers that house people, this one being the most elaborate. Marisa explains that the King's room is in the North Wing as well, four stories all to his own need of isolation, from a private library, dining room, office, bedroom, and the list continues.

"Is there signal out here?" She gives me an odd look, only to realize what I mean.

"Yes, there is," she replies, watching as I reach into my back pocket, only, as I slide my hand in, I find my phone gone. "I take it you will be dining with the King tonight?"

"I actually do not know..." I trace off, watching as she raises an eyebrow.

"How long is your stay?" We walk up a set of cherry wooden stairs, the walls covered in paintings from famous artists.

How long is my stay? I don't even know. I tell her I have no clue, only to watch her put her lips in a thin line. "Did you bring clothes, other than these?" I shake my head. The King basically dragged me with him and threw me into his car for a multiple hour ride filled with awkward silence. "I will ask the head maid, Gwen, what to do."

As she takes out a key, I look at the door before me, tall and thick wood, carvings of leaves along the boarder of the door. "Welcome to the palace."

I gasp, the mere beauty shocking me as I walk through, the fairing sun setting upon my face through the massive and tall windows. A California King-size bed is in the center, a cream duvet with pastel green and silver designs, nearly ten puffy pillows with one bearing the crest of the palace, a marble fireplace by a lounging chair of golden velvet, and another set of chairs pushed near the medium-sized balcony with thin white curtains replacing the doors. "The curtains are laced with magic so the cold air doesn't get in and the room stays a desired temperature."

I'm shocked by the mere luxury. To think I'm staying here. But how long? I have college starting up soon and my parents will want to see me. The King wouldn't plan on keeping me as long as the maid thinks...does he? He's in no need of me really, even if for what he says, he couldn't want me. I was rejected by my mate for crying out loud, that means your mate must of really found a major flaw in you. For the most part I'm just a plain Jane with nothing that makes me special except I can eat a full pizza on my own while running to work.

Marisa leaves me to the room after ten minutes of explaining that the bathroom is in the door by my fireplace and the closet is on the other side, wondering how I'm to dress when it's time for dinner or when I sleep. Basically she worries about my whole wellbeing here. I don't blame here, I could go insane here if the only one here.

I lay upon the bed for about twenty minutes before bored and I decide to explore more of the castle. The King showed me countless of rooms, but nothing stood out to be other than the library where a rolling ladder is, begging for me to take a spin across the shelves on. Finding myself back at the doors of the palace, the doors to the outside ahead, the guards staring right ahead, as if acting like they do not exist. It's been two hours since I saw the King and I've gotten very bored. I want to go home, plus, I pay rent in two days.

"Excuse me, could you open the doors?" I ask, watching the two men, awaiting for them to aid me, but they ignore me. "I'd really appreciate a car as well, like someone to drive me back to the city, I have some business to do there."

Footsteps echo across the throne room, causing me to look over my shoulder. He stands there, a navy robe behind him, attached by a silver across his shoulders, a white fur running over the edges of the robe. A crown lays upon his head, one of silver, but not complete solid silver in one long strand, but silver strands woven together, diamonds and sapphires covering the crown everywhere, the beauty of the crown making me no longer question why so many werewolves gossip about the crown about when it is polished or something like that.

"Sybil, there you are, up to anything?"

He offers me a white smile, one you'd see from a movie star. "Yes, I was wanting to get someone to drive me back to the city," I explain, crossing my arms as I see him take off the crown, running a hand through those locks, on the verge of midnight black, different from the color in the park.

"No one will be driving you back," he replies, quite coldly, his eyes hardening as I frown.

"Then I shall walk," I retort, looking back to the guards as they move, the spears once held by their sides now forming an X across the door. "Excuse me."

I decide to not bother with them, but put my hands upon the doors, trying to push them open, to get them open, only, they stay sealed shut. "They won't open unless I let them."

Walking back to the throne room, I brush past his shoulder, catching a whiff of his scent as I look for the doorway to the North Wing. I have no clue. "Sybil, you're not leaving until I want you-

"You don't even know me, you may hate me by tomorrow," I snap, looking over to him, my gaze hard as a small smirk cross his face. I can't believe I'm talking to the King like those, as if he's just some common person. "I'd better get going."

I storm out of the room, trying to think of a way out of here. Just as I pass the doorway into a long hall with windows looking out upon the lake, I'm grabbed from behind, pulled against a hard chest as my front is pushed against the glass of the window. "Don't you ever dare give me your back again," his voice growls in my ear, making me cower as my wolf's ears go down. His embrace is tight, but not the loving tight, but threatening. "Do you understand?"

"Yes...Zion," I whisper, my forehead against the cold glass as I look out upon the lake, scared of him breaking the glass and throwing me to the water.

Fingers wrap around my chin, causing my head to be pulled back, resting upon his shoulder as I'm forced to look into his eyes. "You leaving is not a good idea, Sybil, and if you ever try, I will not be the nice guy."

I don't doubt it, I believe him fully. I'm scared of what he is capable of, and he could get away with it, he's the King. He could feed me to the dogs and no one would dare disagree unless they wanted to join me as well. "Don't leave."

I nod, my chin burning as he grips it tightly. "I won't," I whisper, my voice barely even there as his hands loosen, falling to my waist as he shuts his eyes.

"Good."

As we stand there, I wonder about his mate, about the woman he is supped to be with, who is supposed to be Queen. What happened to her, or has he already found her. I do not think I will ever know. All I know is that he will be mad if I leave, and if I stay, I have no clue what will happen.

FOUR

"Marisa, what's this?" I ask, yawning as the light of the sun begins to hit my face. As Marisa makes my bed, she looks over to the open closet door, looking at me as I hold up some clothes.

"The King had them delivered here while you dined last night," she explains, watching me nod. The articles of clothing I hold in my hands are not something I would expect to find here, for I have no clue how King Zion could obtain that information. heck, the clothes still smell like my apartment. Last night I ate silently and alone in one of the massive dining halls, King Zion unable to attend due to some meeting, and I was rather glad.

Shutting the bathroom door, I take off the towel from my shower and begin with my undergarments of my favorite nude bra and panties, only to frown as I see the clothes picked out. They are my nicest, not my usual leggings and sweaters with loose threads. A pair of dark wash jeans I wear for when my parents visit, a pair I would also wear for pack meetings long ago, and a nice cream blouse with a V in the front and flows nicely. Pulling on the boots by the sink, I look at myself in the mirror, my thick brown hair still having to endure the brush and bags under my eyes.

I barely slept, too much worry flooding my head over where I am and what is going to happen. I mean, it's no everyday that the Wolf King orders you to stay at his palace and be his without a clue why. It sucks.

Once my hair is brushed and I manage to get it into a bun, I exit the bathroom, Marisa about to leave, my breakfast on the tray that she brought it here on. The best breakfast I've had in months, but unable to beat my mother's bacon and scones. It was a breakfast for a Queen, which scares me. The food was brought on a legitimate gold platter and Marisa explained which silverware I used for each type of food. At least it was worth the stress over which spoon is for what and so forth.

"Lady Sybil, the King will be in the Council chambers until noon, though he would like for you, in the meantime, to be fitted."

"Fitted for what?" I sigh, sitting on my lounge chair as Marisa motions that the zipper to my jeans is undone. Fixing the problem, I await her answer.

"He wants you fitted for just all types of clothes, just simple measurements is all."

"Simple my ass," I mutter under my breath, watching Marisa leave as I'm once more left to a silent room. If I was any typical girl locked in a castle the library would be my first place to go, but seeing that I actually detest reading, I decide to head down a random hall, opposite of where I came. Why read when you can explore and try to find hidden passageways.

The stairs go up in a narrow tower, circling up another three stories. Smiling, I take flight, ascending the stairs as I look out to the lake, watching as a few ducks land by the side and a goose or two begin flying away. It's beautiful out there.

As I come to the end of the stairs, I raise an eyebrow at the door ahead, just a bare gray door with no design but a metal handle. Pulling open the door, I groan, met with another five flights to stairs.

By the time I finished the stairs, my legs are burning and I'm catching my breath as my wolf wants to be let out. I wonder how the nobles would react if they saw a rogue prancing around the throne room and maybe pissing on the Royal throne. Chuckling to myself, I find myself at the top of the tower, the windows gone, just the bare breeze keeping me company as I look out upon the castle grounds.

Looking down, I see the gray roof a story down, very steep and daring me to jump out and feel all spy-like. When you're left to your mind alone, you think of cool things to do. For the rest of the time up in the tower, I just look out upon the trees and trees, not bothering with the expensive village of snobs as I groan.

Eventually I head back down, closing the door behind me as I find myself back to where my room is. I decide to take a left, down a flight of stairs as paintings line the walls with vibrant colors. For sure this place took some hefty work.

"A rogue in the palace," I chuckle as I see a painting of the third Wolf King slaying a rogue with his bare hands. The royals used to hate rogues until King Charles married a rogue and she became one of the most beloved Queens in history.

I soon come to the music room, a harp being polished by a maid as another works on the grand piano, the ceiling with a massive window letting light in. As I leave the room, I find myself growing very bored and in need of something fun to do. Maybe I could find the council chambers and listen in? Or I could try and find a way out?

I choose the latter, making my way down to the first floor, and into the ballroom. "Hello?"

"Hello?" My voice comes back at me, the echo making me smile as I look at the tall pillars of marble going everywhere, the checkered black and white marble floor still a bit wet from being washed, and enough to space for the whole Vatican population. Smiling at the thought of the rook echoing, I look around for anyone still here.

"Penis."

I've really outdone myself and am acting like a child. The word echoes and just as I clap my hands together, a sudden rush of cold air passes bye. "Quite immature really," the man speaks, looking down upon me as his eyes frighten me, black orbs with a silver ring around the pupil. "I'm surprised why the King chose you, but every King needs a jester," he comments, watching my fave turn sour.

"And who are you?"

"Lord Kane," he introduces himself as I bow my head. "The council is on break, meaning, I may have not been the only one to hear your foolish word."

My jaw clenches as I already tell I do not like this one. "So, what is a rogue doing here?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," I reply, putting my hands behind my back as he nods.

"Typical Zion really, unaware that he should explain to poor girls every once in a while," he adds, walking past me, running a hand through his silver hair. "We have just been discussing war for the past five hours, Lady Sybil, I believe you'd be a sight for sore eyes." I raise an eyebrow. "I'd better be off, he's coming this way."

damn it.

"See you soon," he practically sings as he exits the room, his presence gone as I'm once more left to the silence.

I can hear the King, his footsteps across one of the many halls leading to this room, making me wonder which side I should be prepare to face him at. Collecting myself, I go into the mindset that the most powerful man in the whole wolf empire is about to speak with me...only, that is forgotten as I remember he practically had me here for no reason yet explained.

"As a child my mother loved massive balls filled with the upper crust of society," he greets, entering the room, freshly shaven and in another suit, one dark gray and the royal robes in his hands, dragging upon the floor as if he has no care for them. "I would hide behind her as we met everyone, clutching onto her dress, shy like many small children." I nod, trying to picture a small King Zion, afraid as he hid behind a woman my mother loved to gossip about. "My father hated the parties. He said it was a waste of time, that my mother only wanted this room filled with parties to make it feel like the palace wasn't empty."

"She felt it was empty?" I ask, crossing my arms as I look to the ceiling, the clouds painted in pastels.

He looks down to his shoes, dropping the royal robes to the floor, making my eyes widen. "She felt it had no home feeling." I nod, watching as he leaves the robes behind him as he does a small circle around the room, scanning the room with those eyes. "My father liked the palace silent, but he loved my mother."

He approaches, hands clasped behind his back, eyes locked upon me. "I'm sorry about your mother."

"Five years ago leaves you enough time to mourn," he comments, now a yard away from me as I bite the inside of my cheek, my heart skipping a beat.

"Yet you spent much of your life around her," I whisper, looking over my shoulder, hoping someone may appear in the room and let me excuse myself. "Sorry." He hums as a response, his hands moving from his back, making me jump a bit, afraid he may reach out for me. No, I do not think he would hit me, just when he touches you, when the King does that, you feel odd. Out of place.

We stand in silence for another minute, the atmosphere tense as I feel my legs begin to shake, the nerves catching up to me. "How was Council?"

"Fine, how was the view of the tower?"

"How?" I ask, taking a small step back.

"A palace where the King loves doesn't have high security for no reason," he informs, walking away, towards the back of the room, where another balcony is, a massive one that overlooks the lake three stories up. "I would like for you to accompany me to the next Council meeting."

"No one is allowed in but nobles and royals, your Ma-Zi...Zion." His name feels weird coming from my lips, the name of the most powerful man in the world of wolves. "I rather enjoy exploring anyway."

"Exploring for a way out," he chuckles, looking over his shoulder to me, the sunlight from the tall windows making his hair appear golden just like those eyes. "Besides, you're allowed into he council room if I permit it."

That's true, he's the King. "Why should I? Like, as in..." I trial off, noticing how I worded it sounded bi*chy. "Why do you want me there?"

A smile crosses his lips, one that so don't know whether to let my heart do flips or my heart sink down to my stomach. "Because I'd like for you to-

"I'm sorry for interrupting, your Majesty." He opens his mouth but I continue. "I know I said the title, but I don't know what to call you or even how to act because you've not specified what I am to you? Not said why so am here? What is it?" I ask, watching as he turns to me, stalking forward as I raise my chin. "For what? Companionship? An easy fk? Something for your political standings, besides, rumors of a rogue in the palace could be good or bad," I rant, massaging my temples, trying to understand the situation.

Closing my eyes, I focus on noise as I can hear him nearing, hands caress both sides of my face, strong fingers pealing my hands away as I take in a deep breath. The hands leave, the warmth leaving, only to be back as one lands upon my waist, the other taking a hand as I realize what he's doing.

Opening my eyes, I find him close, making me try to take a step back, only to be halted by him. "A companion is part of the deal, for an easy lay, I'm not that low of a person, Sybil," he explains. He's right, he's the King, anyone would be willing to spread their legs, eager to climb the social ladder, eager to brag, to gain publicity. "I've told you that you are mine."

"Why? How am I your's?" I ask, only, as he opens his mouth to speak, a gong sounds, echoing throughout the palace walls.

He smiles, wrapping an arm around my waist as he leads me with him towards the exit of the room. "The meeting will begin soon."

"I don't want to go," I mutter, seeing him raise his eyebrows. "A rogue in the council room is questionable. They would feel as if their ego has suffered," I express.

The King pulls me along, ignoring my statement as he only pulls me closer to him. "When you're with me, they will not question it."

"But it gives them perfect rumors to spread. A rogue in the palace at the side of the King."

"Let them talk," he whispers. Letting them talk scares me. If they talk, it's bound to be heard by the common wolf pack in the human world, word is bound to reach the ears of everyone. A rogue in the palace is massive publicity. And once word goes around, someone will be interest just like the whole werewolf population. I only pray he never comes here while I am held here.

I only pray I never see him within the palace walls. Much less beside the King.

FIVE

"They don't have any business attending the Solecist Meeting and Gala," Lord Adakis expresses as I let my eyes wonder back to the mosaic tiles of the floor, bits of marble, different colors, placed in the design of the crest of the wolf empire.

Zion sits at the head of the room, his marble throne place before the only window on the room, looking powerful as his chair is raised above the rest. He rests his chin upon his hand, listening to the next comments as I sit on the second floor of the chamber, the circular room, looking below at the smaller thrones that also circle the crest, the room in one of the smaller towers, right below another chamber for business, one for the Senate (when all the Alphas and the King gather for more important matters).

For two hours I've sat on the second floor after King Zion introduced me to all the Lords. As a summary of the meeting, I either received dirty looks or raised eyebrows as I bowed my head, only for Zion to become offended.

For two hours they began again on their war meeting, something I was told my Zion that was under the radar, few knowing that war was to begin. Against who? From what I could pick up, a race of vampires known for their unique black eyes, not the typical red, a group that most children would associate with a nightmare.

By the next hour I'm sitting on the marble floor, my head against the railing as I'm hidden from the council, shutting my eyes as I let out a deep breath. All I want to do is take a walk through Central Park and go to Times Square to people watch. Questions fly though about my rent, if my tenet has tried to find me, if he's thrown out my items, if my parents have contacted me only to hit voice mail. I'll probably ask the King where the hell my phone is.

"How much time do we have?" Someone asks, and I remember the voice, Lord Vincent.

"Three weeks at least," Zion replies as I hear movement. The heavy doors to the chamber open and I look over the railing, only for my eyes to widen as he stares at me, those eyes trained upon mine as his guests begin to leave. We stay still for another five minutes, eyes upon each other, and once he breaks contact, he tells a pair of guards to close the chamber doors.

"Coming down?"

Not wanting to show my disrespect, I get to my feet, feeling nervous as his eyes are glued to me. He sits there, one ankle crossed upon his knee, his hands moving to strip the crown from his head, laying it on his lap. I continue to a small stairway, vanishing from his line of view as I think of my family.

Once the sunlight hits me from the tall window, I watch as he offers me a lopsided smile, as if one a predator would mask his identity with to capture the prey. One to coax them into believe he is of no harm. That he is a friend.

"How was the meeting?" He asks, watching as I look to the heavy doors at the entrance of the room, steel doors with intricate designs of leaves, a forest, and wolves going off to battle as the moon is high.

"Interesting," I lie, looking back to the King as he cocks his head to the side, pressing me on for the correct reply. "Quite a bore actually, I don't understand how you enjoy it," I explain, walking around the thrones, each fifteen of them, each made of marble and lower than the King's chair.

The King let's out a a deep breath, resting his chin upon his hand as I stand in the center of the room. "Most would say it's a matter of maturity. Many would say the more mature you become the more boring things you begin to appreciate." He is true when it comes to that. Shrugging, I clasp my hands behind my back and look up at the ceiling. "Besides, I doubt you'd like talk of war with that Lord Kane found funny enough to tell me."

I raise an eyebrow, only for my face to go scarlet in embarrassment. "I doubt anyone who finds the word 'penis' fun would enjoy a council meeting." I avoid eye contact as I hear him shift in the throne chair, the sound of footsteps across the silent chamber.

Fingers brush my cheek, the warmth of skin spreading through me as he gently moves my head to the side. "I'd like my phone back." His hand stops, gently cupping my cheek as I bite the inside of the other, wondering how he will reply. "My parents have probably called many times and my tenant will be asking for pay any day now, I wouldn't be surprised if he moves my things out today."

"Look at me, Sybil," he whispers, his lips dangerously close to my ear as I keep my eyes glued to the stairwell. I think of just stepping from his hold and running to the doors, trying to open them and get as far as possible away from here. But I abide by the King's wish, moving my eyes to meet his as my wolf bows her head in respect. Goddess, I could use a run. "Why would you need a phone when you're here, in the palace, a world of adventure awaiting you?"

I scoff.

"What adventure? I just see marble floor after marble floor, maids, pillars, and massive rooms with no one to talk with. I'm asking for my phone to take care of business," I express, trying to seem respectful, but I doubt I was the second I opened my mouth.

His eyes harden, his hand retrieving from my face as the clouds pass by the sun, the room growing darker by the second. Some say that the Alpha King used to control the weather within the magic field, his mood or just sheer will causing a rainstorm to turn into a bright day. Those stories have passed now, only told at bedtime to innocent children with dreams.

"I wish I could understand you, Sybil," he mumbles, walking away, circling his throne once as he picks up the crown, twirling it upon his finger as my eyes widen. He could damage the crown generations of Kings wore. He gives no care. "How one rogue with nothing is given a palace with the greatest riches and even a King within the walls, yet they want to vanish and go back to the human world."

My lips are pressed in a firm line, watching as he puts the crown upon his head, walking back to me. "But the moment you dared turn your back to me yesterday, I knew you'd be hard to please, someone who doesn't care if the world is handed to them on a silver platter. You'd rather spend your life stressing about taxes and debt than wearing the finest silks and parading around, rubbing into noble faces how you have more power than them."

He's right, I'd rather be a rogue than my hair drenched in hairspray and my waist shrunken as I'm told what and what not to eat for my beauty. But he's got it wrong as well, on any other occasion I'd be on cloud nine as I walk through the palace in walls, but because my brain has been in one giant knot of confusion since I arrived, I'm finding a dislike for the mothership of the questions in my head.

"Then why do you keep me here, King Zion? Why keep a girl with no want of wearing silks or showing off superiority in the palace? I bet you could find someone who would enjoy this," I snap, crossing my arms as the King's jaw clenches, his chest almost fully against mine as we are both annoyed with the other.

"Be cautious of how you talk to your King," he growls, his eyes turning pitch black as his wolf begins to surface. "Anyone else would have their head ripped from their shoulders by now."

"Then why not make me anybody else? Why not rip my head from my body and feed it to the fish in the lake? Why not use my eyeballs a bait for the fish and have my limbs stuck on sticks to warn off all those who oppose you?" I yell, throwing my hands up in the air as I can see the King try not to shift, to not break free and put me in my place.

Suddenly, my neck is gripped, my body slammed against the doors, my mouth gasping for air. The hand releases me, letting me fall to the floor. Oddly enough, I feel no pain, no soreness from all that sudden movement. He's taking it easy on me, he's trying not to hurt me as he uses actions of violence. My eyes meet his Italian shoes, not daring to look up. "Because, my dearest Sybil," he begins, my skin paling with those words, "if you were anybody else, you would be a poor and submissive whore with no dreams but wearing the Queen's crown."

"What are you saying?" I question, gritting my teeth together as he bends down, his fingers pushing my chin up to look at him.

"I'm saying, Sybil, that you are unique, that you, a rogue, a reject, a mateless wolf, are someone I'm willing to make mine no matter how long it takes."

I chuckle. "You can't make someone love you, you can't wait forever, time is something no one has control over," I hiss, shoving him away. "Believe me, you don't know me and vice versa. You only know me as a poor rogue and I only know you as my King."

His eyebrows furrow together as his grabs my arm, yanking me only to crash into him, making me land on the floor, the King under me as he holds my hands still. "And you would never want to betray your King, would you?" I scowl. "Sybil, I have all the time in the world, but for patience, I lack that."

I try to get off of him, worried someone may come in, but more than that, for the King to allow himself to be under, for someone to have him in a submissive position, it makes warning bells go off in my head. "Here is my deal, King," I snap, wanting to be gone. "I don't want to be here nor do you need me here, yet you-

"Oh, I need you here very much, Sybil," he interrupts as my eyes widen, but before I can blink, I'm flipped over, held at his mercy as my blood boils. "I need you by my side. I can read you, you're an open book, you're someone who grants me freedom from this palace, someone who lets me see the outside world, who shows me what I've wanted for my whole life."

I don't understand him as he lowers his face, those lips dangerously close to mine. "And I know, one hundred percent, my dear, that you are to be mine."