ELEVEN

Astaroth

MASON WALKED INTO THE room with his head held high. He stopped short of my bed, hands tucked behind his back. He wore a peach-colored suit with golden armor fixed to the shoulders. The smile he usually wore around me was replaced with a solemn look.

“You wanted to know the real me, Your Highness. This is me,” he coldly said.

I shivered at his tone. “Mace, this isn’t what I wanted.”

“Please, call me by my real name, Masonial Stone. I don’t mean to be a bother. If you already know who I am, then I have to assume that my father has been contacted. So, I have handed my resignation to Prince Dante and will take my leave tonight.”

“What?” I screeched, half sliding off the bed. Panic rushed through my veins. He was going to leave. I was going to lose everything I was carefully planning. “Mason, why don’t you want to talk? Why are you running away from us?”

He flinched and turned his head to look at the window. “You have a mate. And I wanted out of the noble life.”

Gritting my teeth, I placed my feet solidly on the floor, and pointed a finger at Mason’s chest. “I had no idea about your past! All I wanted was for us to be happy. Guess I now know that I was a problem in your life. And you wanted to get out of nobility? Newsflash! I am the fucking crown prince! You knew that best of all! I told you secrets about myself. I let you close to the throne. And instead of—”

A warm hand touched my shoulder. Jerking back, I glared at the person who touched me. Oliver stood over me, his golden eyes filled with sadness. The rage that bubbled inside me slowed to a simmer. My hands trembled. It was over. Mason really wanted out.

“You want out?” I said, tears stinging my eyes. “There’s the door. And don’t bother coming back to the kingdom.”

“Mason,” Anton said, voice colder than ice. “You disgust me, treating Asta like that. He only wanted to marry you because he loved you, and because your status was the only way he could marry someone he cared about. He was willing to risk one of King Zadicus’ beatings again just to earn that.”

My ex-boyfriend didn’t say a word. All I heard was his footsteps as he began to walk out of the room. He didn’t make it all the way out before stopping.

“Runi are expected to breed. Even if I agreed, my father would force me to have children with a woman.”

“Even so,” Anton continued. I turned to see Anton marching toward him, head lowered so his messy hair fell into his eyes. “You could have spoken to Asta about it. Why break his heart? Why make him think so little of himself that he has a breakdown? Why make it so that Wolf Slayer came out?”

Mason’s entire frame went rigid. He stood motionless, eyes fixated on the doorknob.

The warmth of Oliver’s body retreated. He had pulled away the second Wolf Slayer’s name was mentioned. Reaching over to take his hand, I saw him physically pull back.

“Wolf Slayer is you?” he whispered.

Both sides of the path I was one diverted to Mason or Dios, and the paths were dissolving fast. Mason had been my boyfriend for years, knowing all of my deepest secrets. But Dios was a piece of me I couldn’t bear to lose. Meeting Dios brought about a side of me that I had been too nervous to see, and I wanted to hold onto that.

“Oliver, it's okay. Wolf Slayer is not me; Dante and Anton can confirm that--”

My mate pulled back, as if I were made of silver. He shook his head, eyes wide like a frightened rabbit. He muttered words I could not make out. I had lost him to irrational fear.

“Monster!” Oliver finally spat. Shoving me away, he slammed me against the banister of my bed and took off running for the door.

“Dios!” I called, rubbing my shoulder.

He looked over his shoulder, whining. He pushed Mason out of his way and yanked open the door. He abruptly stopped.

Standing outside the room was Dante, holding Davon in his arms. Davon peered over my mate, a grin on his chubby copper-hued face.

“Uncle Astie!” he called, waving his hand.

I weakly waved back when Dante stepped to the side and Oliver darted from the room. Anton followed him silently.

“Did we miss a party?” Dante teased. Davon squirmed in his grip until Dante set him down. “Play nice with Uncle Asta.”

Davon darted across the floor, arms reaching out to me. He wrapped his arms around waist and squeezed while looking up at me with starry eyes.

“Is it true that you bought a wolf?”

I smiled. “Yeah, but he's a bit frightened right now.”

“Can I pet him? I wonder what kind fur he has!”

“I think he needs a break from all the excitement. How about we head down for dinner?”

Davon grinned brighter. So young and so full of life. I wish I had his happiness growing up, but I could at least give him everything. Touching the top of his head, I brushed a few locks out of his eyes.

“Daddy, can Uncle Astie show me his fire again?” Davon asked.

“As long as doesn’t upset your papa.”

Dante motioned for us to follow. I obliged with Davon clinging to me. He spat off multiple questions like a firing squad. Were my flames waterproof? Had I been in battle with the flames? Did I kill any wolves with my flames? Do wolves hunt in groups? How tall are wolves? Are they really fluffy? Would I make my wolf into a fur coat? After the last question, I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my brow. Davon a kind dragonling, but he didn’t have a filter and it wore me down quite often.

On the first floor, Dante scooped Davon up and told me that Haera was waiting for him near the children’s dining hall. As I watched him slowly walk away, I reminisced about my childhood. Patches of my memory were filled with black; there were the times I underwent reminders of my place in the castle. Father wanted me compliant; a small little servant that did as he was told. I had a childhood friend and former fiancee — Aurora Abyss. She was the only person in all of the kingdom that knew who I truly was. I wish she hadn’t been killed all those years ago. My innocence was gone, replaced with the cold, harsh reality that Father, the king, made all the choices.

I stepped into the grand dining hall of white walls and polished marble flooring, where Father sat at the head of the table, dressed in fine black silks. He stared at me with those scarlet eyes, malice dripping off him. My seat was beside him, empty. Across from me sat Lady Morgana, her dressed changed into an elegant red silk gown trimmed with white lace.

Further back against the wall sat eight maspets, each chained to the wall. At the feet were bowls filled with a strange slop. One of the maspets was Dios, and he pulled at the silver collar around his neck.

I narrowed my eyes. Wolves were severely allergic to silver. If Dios could wear it, he had to be of the Alpha’s family. And Father wanted me to kill the Luna.

My heart dropped. Everything in the room slowed to a still.

I was being made to kill Dios’ mother.