Chapter 106: Chapter 106: AN UGLY OGRE

VALORIA WILDEROSE

“We’re creating a PowerPoint presentation and a plan for this year’s solstice festival coming up in a week’s time to appeal to His Majesty to let us have a ceremony here in the palace,” Calliope explains while looking up at me.

“Solstice? You mean the celebration held every few years to honor wolf shifting? I’ve heard about it.”

Most of it in passing. I believe my family held one of those things years ago, but I wasn’t allowed to attend like every other event of the year.

“Every five years the Solstice festival is held underneath a full moon to honor the gift of shifting and its strength bestowed on us by the goddess, and the gift of mating, as well as her light that makes us what we are. The festival involves priestesses blessing the home for a few days leading up to it to make the environment sacred enough for her spirit to pass on that night, where every wolf shifts and gives into every primal instinct. There’s a lot of chanting and dancing too,” Calliope exclaims with blue eyes gleaming animatedly.

“That sounds… amazing.” I feel myself getting excited just thinking about it.

To be able to attend and experience things I never could have locked underneath the stairwell of my home now that I’m free—it’s everything I’ve dreamed of and more.

“Except the fact that the Lycan king hates everything related to the goddess, and he never allows the celebration to be held in his domain.” Elodie cuts into the conversation, killing the dream before it can take flight in my imagination. “The last person that brought up the suggestion was boiled alive in hot oil. True story.”

Calliope glares at her, just as gutted by her words as I am.

“We’re taking a positive approach this time, Elodie. We owe it to everyone else as high concubines to request this on behalf of everyone else.”

“He’s never allowed it?” I ask, now looking between their dejected countenances that don’t seem to deny her accusations despite how grim they sound.

“Never,” Yara confirms with her straightforward dead-ass stare right into my soul.

“Which confirms that this idea is a complete dud and a waste of our time.” Elodie shrugs, prepared for the worst outcome in this plan she’s clearly against.

And now I am slowly being convinced too.

“And there’s not a single possibility that he could change his mind this year?”

“Okay, you might not have been here long enough, so let me be the only sane person here that is honest with you.” Elodie sits upright, looking at me dead in the eye—a show of full honesty. “His Majesty is cruel, and he’s not just cruel—cold, heartless, mean. He doesn’t do what you want because you think it’s cool or it’s fair. He does whatever he wants, and sometimes it involves ripping your guts out and using them as a swing, or using your skull as a mug ’cause you looked at him funny.”

She shrugs like it’s not necessarily a bad thing but a plain standard fact that should be accepted.

“He’s an angry, cold, heartless man who probably has a lot of inferiority complex behind all that rage, and it’s something that we’ll never figure out. The only thing we do know is that he’s twisted, and maybe it’s from being an ugly, old, and grumpy ogre underneath that face.”

I nod along to every perfectly crafted description she makes of him, perfectly depicting his qualities down to a T—too perfect, as though she’s spent more time with him than I have.

I’m too distracted to notice the stealthy figure emerge from behind like everyone else is, until he’s visible walking up from behind her and we all freeze up like human-sized popsicles while she rants on.

Stopping only after our horrified looks register in her mind.

Slowly she turns to look at him—the longest microseconds of her life—before their eyes meet and she cowers.

Suddenly a lighthearted moment turns horrifying once we’re all on our feet, heads bowed low, shivering from the imaginary cold—the rest of them more than I am.

It’s been a while since I’ve been reminded just how terrifying Azrael is.

I’d forgotten from all his tantrums and our squabbles here and there, but now, watching Calliope, Yara, and Elodie freeze up like criminals on death row, I realize the side to him I’d let myself forget too soon.

To them he’s still the psychopath killer, the maniac that punishes without reserve, and the king they respect and walk on eggshells around.

And maybe that’s who he really is, and all I’ve spent time with is a façade.

Maybe today is the day I see his mask fall off in front of all of us, now that we’re not alone.

Now he’ll show his true cruelty, and maybe it will be enough to shock me out of the hold he has on me.

Calliope crumbles underneath the weight of his maddening silence and cold stares first.

She falls on her knees, unable to hold herself up from the weight of his aura, close to tears from fright, unable to meet his gaze.

“We apologize, Your Majesty. She didn’t mean it. It was meant to be a joke, a lighthearted one. I swear on my life. Please show mercy just this once,” she begs, putting her life on the line.

Elodie drops next, biting her lips, her pride crumbling to dust, refusing to let Calliope sacrifice herself.

“I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

My heart aches watching them tremble. I bite my lips, prepared to be caught in the crossfire if need be. I take a small step, bracing myself to speak.

I dare to be the one to look up and meet his eyes, expecting bloodlust and anger—the same sadistic glint I had seen the first day we met.

And yet he isn’t looking at either of them. His crystal blue, torn and offended eyes stare back at me alone, with lips pressed in a frown.

I’m almost speechless.

“Is that what you think of me too? An ugly ogre?”

I am speechless. Wide-eyed and mouth agape.

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