Chapter 5: Chapter Five

The next day I was sleeping in my bed with the world’s greatest quilt when I heard the bedroom door open. My brain wasn’t fully awake, but it was hard to pull one over on my inner wolf. I don’t know how, but having my wolfheart taken and reinserted had kickstarted the canine pacing around inside my subconscious. Maybe it was like restarting a computer. Things were clicking faster and firing on all cylinders. 

Not that I knew what cylinders were. Something in a car, but I’d never been allowed to have one. So it was just a phrase I used without actually knowing exactly what it meant. Regular humans do shit like that all the time. Us werewolves should be able to as well. 

As someone moved closer to the bed, my brain registered the smell of a chilly night sky and raspberries. I’d come to realize fae just came with scents that would make a Yankee Candle Co employee cry in jealousy before weeping to death. Whether it was pheromones, or their skin was scratch-n-sniff, I had no clue. 

But the scents were that of my mistress. My brain stirred a little more as she came over to the bedside and lightly stroked my hair with her long nails. This morning they were painted black with a tiny red dot in the center. 

“Awaken, my pet. We’ve got a big day ahead,” the Raven Queen half whispered. 

I didn’t stir for a moment. This was a nice change of pace from an angry man with booze breath kicking in my door (if I had one at the moment) and screaming about whatever perceived chore he’d witnessed incomplete. 

My mistress was patient and let me stir, stretching my legs, arching my back, and yawning as several joints popped. When I tried to roll over and curl back up into a ball under the quilt, she giggled and said, “No, no, darling. I’ve got the cooks working on breakfast. And I’ve got exciting plans for us today.” 

I tried to fake snore but had a hard time not laughing. This stupid nervous habit haunted me wherever I went. I was such a terrible liar, always laughing, especially if I knew someone was watching me. 

As I stumbled through a snore/chortle, the queen started lightly flicking the top of my ear with her fingers. It tickled, and I groaned, rolling over onto my back and surrendering, yet again, to her will. The brat inside was on a real losing streak. And I didn’t see that changing anytime soon. Maybe she’d surface sooner or later. 

I stretched one more time, and this time Varella ran her hands along my back summoning my patented shiver. 

“What were thinking about for today’s schedule, your grace?” I asked, wiping a little drool off the side of my lips. 

“You’ve been doing a lot of resting the last few days, and that’s good. I want my pet to be charged. I figured today we could stretch your legs, start getting you familiar with the new forest of your home,” she said. 

“So. . . what, a nice hike or something?” I asked. 

Her pointed teeth revealed themselves as she grinned. 

“Or something,” she said, scratching me under the chin. I raised my head higher and higher until I almost fell back on my rump. Fortunately, werewolf grace had me covered with inhuman balance. 

I slowly climbed out of bed and stretched more. Gods, you could never stretch enough to please every muscle. Even if I had a decade of yoga practice, which I didn’t. Because that was what my father called fru-fru thinking. 

“You want to practice bending your body? Get out in the flowerbed and pluck some weeds,” he’d say. . . as if our family garden had gone untouched for a decade. 

But as a werewolf, my body was constantly shifting and in flux. Muscles, ligaments, joints, and my whole body constantly felt as though it was in motion between the human and the Canis lupus. Us wolves loved to stretch, had to really. 

And the queen watched as I did stretch and yawn, stretch and yawn. She really did embody patience whenever she was dealing with my bullshit. I guess fae, as ageless beings, learned patience pretty early on.

After all the stretching, I showered and ate. Breakfast consisted of the fluffiest blueberry waffles I’d ever tasted. No Eggos here. 

Sorry, Eleven, I thought, finishing my fourth Belgian waffle. 

I also tore through several strips of bacon, two biscuits, and three pears. Oh, and coffee. Two or three cups of that. 

The average wolf eats around 10 pounds of meat a day to sustain itself. Whenever I felt bad about eating the Raven Queen out of palace and home, I remembered that. And it wasn’t like the queen skimped on meals. A seven-foot-tall faerie queen held immense power, and food is fuel for all of us alike. My mistress put away almost as much food as I did. 

After breakfast, the queen led me behind the palace. It wasn’t a huge castle. Certainly bigger than Howl’s, but that wasn’t saying much. Her’s didn’t move around (at least, I hadn’t seen it happen). 

We walked outside into the morning sun about an hour short of noon. It was here I learned the sky wasn’t blue like it was where I’d come from. Instead, the sky took on a purple hue, with a white sun that was somehow a little dimmer than the one I’d worked under in the garden instead of taking yoga classes. 

The air smelled of fish and forests, which made sense because the castle sat on a small island at the edge of a lake, connected to land by two wooden bridges, a large one in the front and a smaller one in the back. 

Varella led me down the back bridge toward a large forest full of trees both familiar and unknown to me. I recognized oaks, sequoias, pines, and a few more species. But there were also species that looked entirely foreign to me, as though they belonged on some alien planet, with branches curved at odd angles, leaves that hung like vines, and roots that lived mostly above the ground. 

Sunlight reflected off the lakewater, which rippled with a gentle day breeze. I couldn’t see the other side, even squinting. I did see a large green fish hop out of the water before splashing back down. The damn thing was as long as my arm. 

My mistress told me the front bridge connecting the castle to land led down into town, the capital city of the Raven Court, Kynes. 

Both bridges had watchtowers and elves standing guard. They bowed as the queen walked by, and I was suddenly stiff as a board. I’d mostly been dealing with just the queen and maybe a staff member or two in the last few days. To suddenly be bowed to by a squad of 25 elven soldiers wearing leather armor bearing the crest of a soaring raven was a situation that made me want to yip and jump into the lake. 

But the queen held me tightly at her side. The elves, both men and women of many different skin tones and statures, looked toward the ground as the monarch came to a halt directly under the rear watchtower, which cast a shadow over us. 

“At ease. I wish for all of you to meet my new pet, the wolf, Sierra,” the queen said, pushing me in front of her and putting a hand on each shoulder. 

I wanted nothing more than to shrink back into the castle and run for my bed. This was mortifying as 25 pairs of elven eyes, blue, red, purple, black, white, yellow, and green swept over me. Though I didn’t feel as though I was being judged. Just examined. Did they see a human girl lost and out of her depth? Or a werewolf that’d been leashed. 

“To my guards, I expect this pledge of loyalty. My pet is my newest treasure. Protect her as an extension of me. Do this with the utmost care and expedience. For if I find harm has befallen her on any of your watches, my birds will claim your eyes, tongue, and anything else they can peck out for themselves. Are we clear?” she asked. 

In perfect unison, the elves held one fist to their back and one over their hearts. Then they bellowed, “This we do swear, my queen.” 

She nodded in approval, and my desire to run back inside had only grown. 

“Spread the word among the other guards. I expect the same of every soldier who bears my crest,” she said, the wind causing Varella’s black gown and feathered cloak to rustle around her. 

“Yes, your highness,” the guards repeated in unison, not moving from their stoic posture. 

Leaning down to my ear, the queen whispered, “On a rare instance that you find yourself not by my side, these guards will protect you. If you see my raven crest sewn into a piece of armor, know they are sworn to keep you safe. They aren’t your servants. They are your protectors. Do not mistake the two, my pet.” 

I gave a quick nod, wanting more than anything for us to get moving into the woods and away from all this talk of guards and oaths. 

“Think of it like your mortal White House. That’s where your king lives, right? And if he has dogs, they have free run of the house. And the guards there are expected to protect them as these are expected to protect you.” 

Not wanting to correct my mistress on the fact that our country didn’t have a king (despite what my father said, depending on who was in office), I just absorbed her lesson with another quick nod. 

“Can we go now, please?” I whined. 

“Are you uncomfortable?” she asked. 

A third nod from me. 

“Whatever for? You should feel extra safe now. I’m at your side, and these well-armed soldiers have just sworn to protect you with their lives,” the Raven Queen said, chuckling. 

“I’m. . . a bit anxious around large crowds. And you swore never to hurt me, remember? Keeping me here with my anxiety building is kind of a form of harm if you think about it,” I said, trying to use her own logic against her. 

The queen lightly bit the top of my ear, which I didn’t expect. And then she said, “Yes, my pet. I said you’d be safe in my arms. I didn’t say you’d be immune to a little teasing now and again.” 

At that, I stifled a growl. 

“At ease,” she said, and the guards suddenly loosened. “Where is Talon Ceras? I wish for them to accompany us today.” 

“I’m here, your grace,” a man’s voice came from the ladder on the watchtower. 

A moment later, a Black elf a few inches taller than me came over and stood before the queen and me. They wore black zirconium armor with the queen’s emblem painted on the chest. At their side, an axe hung in their belt. A round shield painted with several black feathers hung loose on the elf’s back. 

Their natural black hair was cut short and buzzed on the sides. A silver ring pierced the elf’s lower lip. Their blue eyes looked me up and down before returning to their queen. 

“Talon Ceras reporting for duty,” they said with a million-dollar grin. 

“My strong talon, this is Sierra, a werewolf and my new pet. I want you to accompany us into the forest today,” she said. 

Ceras put their fist over their heart and smiled. 

“As you wish, your grace. Um. . . permission to be myself in front of your beautiful new pet?” they asked, with a wink. 

The queen actually rolled her eyes and nodded, saying, “As if I could order otherwise, talon. Let’s get moving.” 

And we did. The energy I picked up from Ceras was. . . boisterous, maybe a little flamboyant. They were muscular but moved with all the speed and grace an elf possesses. The protector didn’t look like their muscle weighed them down in any way. And yet, if they brought the full brunt of it upon an enemy, that foe would have regrets. 

A few minutes later, the castle was no longer visible within the trees, and we kept walking. I started to feel more at ease and took in the scents around me. Something that smelled like a beaver was wandering off to our right, trying to avoid us. I smelled damp vegetation closer to the lake. 

The pollen in the air had a sweeter fragrance that carried within a. . . flavor or timelessness. It was strange to describe, as though the flavor of eternity was baked into the land an endless cycle of seasons that carried on outside of time. 

As a child, when Mom explained some creatures lived forever and did not die of old age, I had trouble with the concept. How long was forever? A century or two? Five? 12? How long did something live if it was forever? 

Well, nature here gave me that answer. These trees had surely grown from acorn and other seeds, sprouted, reached maturity, and then just. . . continued on in the timeless cycle. And that rotation of immortal seasons had a unique scent that populated everywhere. It smelled like renewed life in the spring, and I imagined that scent remained, even in the dead of winter. Because, unless that life was snuffed out in an act of violence, it simply didn’t end. 

My inner philosophical ramblings were interrupted by Ceras. 

“So. . . you’re from the human world?” they asked. 

I nodded. 

“Bit small for a werewolf,” they said, looking over me from side to side. 

“Appearances can be deceiving,” I said, smiling. 

“You’re so right! I once did battle with a large bear, and defeat came so much easier than I would have expected. But the other day, this rat about the size of my boot bottom, faced me with all the bravery of a lion. Damn thing nearly stole my lunch, too,” they said, flashing me another smile. 

Loosening up a bit more, I decided Ceras was okay. They had a vibrancy and life to them I respected. 

“Hey, you wanna see a cool pose? I’ve been practicing lately, and I could use a new set of fresh eyes,” they said. 

Taken aback, I looked to the queen for some hint of a response. She gave none and kept walking, ignoring the talon, which I’d come to learn was her equivalent of a knight, her Queensguard. And the regular soldiers were called feathers. 

You are reading story The Fae Queen’s Pet at novel35.com

“Su—sure. Show me a pose. You practice them often?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Ceras smiled and nodded enthusiastically. 

“My boyfriend is a tailor back in Kynes. He’s always making these really epic outfits for me to pose in and model in my free time. So I like to practice to stay fresh and surprise him,” Ceras said. 

I giggled at that. It was sweet. 

“Well, go on then. Hit me with your most epic stance, oh great talon,” I said. 

They withdrew their axe, holding it tight with both hands, high above their head as though they were about to call upon the power of Greyskull. 

It took everything I had to keep from laughing. 

“Mystical, huh?” Ceras asked, still posing. 

“I am. . . . . mystified,” I said, grinning. 

The queen retained her layer of patience even as she continued walking. She called back to the two of us, “Come on, you two. We’re almost to the clearing.” 

“I’ll show you another cool one later,” Ceras whispered, securing the axe in their belt once more. 

Giggling, I said, “Can’t wait.” 

Arriving in the clearing, the queen turned back to face Ceras and me, who had been walking about 10 feet behind her. 

“This should do,” she said, looking around. 

A large stump sat in the center of the clearing. Other than that and a few berry bushes, the clearing was free of obstacles for about 50 feet in any direction. A small creek ran along the west side making a small boundary I could leap over even on two legs. 

“Should do for what?” I asked. 

My mistress crossed her arms and said, “Tomorrow I will attend court and hear many petitions. And I want you beside me on the throne, my pet.” 

I fought a frown. While I understood in the back of my mind that life here as the queen’s pet wouldn’t be all blanket cuddles and long baths, I was a little unnerved at the prospect of sitting next to the queen’s throne while she conducted court with dozens of nobles and townsfolk. 

“I can already see you’re a little nervous, which brings me to my next point. I want you to put on as tough of a performance as possible for court tomorrow. I am a feared and terrible ruler, after all,” she said. “To that end, I want you there as Sierra the werewolf, not the human.” 

That was actually insane. A werewolf in a court of nobles? It wasn’t like I’d be a golden retriever sitting in her lap. A werewolf was basically a giant-ass timberwolf, twice the size, intelligence, speed, and endurance. Fortunately, what she’d asked for was impossible.

“Your grace, I can change into my wolf form on the night of the full moon, not during the day,” I said. 

Ceras remained silent. 

“That’s not true anymore, my pet. When I returned your wolfheart, I did so with a large chunk of my magic. It’s embedded in you now, at your core. And I can call forth your beast at any time,” she said. 

Funny, I don’t remember giving her permission to infect my body with her magic, I thought, suddenly a little grumpy. 

Touching and teasing were one thing. But I was a little more iffy about her magic penetrating me at my very core. That must have shown on my face, because the queen put her hands on her hips and said, softer than expected, “Please don’t misunderstand. I will never call forth your beast without permission. But your wolfheart is your greatest weapon. I wanted you to have full access to it here, like Ceras carries that axe everywhere, so you, too, carry a great power to defend yourself.” 

That made a little more sense. But I still wasn’t sure about her calling for my beast. Even if she could, I wouldn’t have much control. 

When the inner wolf comes forth, all those powerful instincts that belong solely to the canine charge forward like a river overtaking a dam, washing away everything in their path. I’d have bits and pieces of memories later, but the wolf really was its own entity. That’s why most werewolves retreated deep into isolation on the night of the full moon, miles from the nearest human. 

“Your grace, I can’t control my inner wolf. If unleashed, there’d be no stopping me,” I said. 

My mistress took a few steps to close the distance between us and put a hand on top of my head. 

“Oh, my beautiful pet. Understand that you pose no threat to me. I am a faerie queen in the heart of her court. My essence and magic are tied to this land and run far deeper than you can possibly know. The magic I wield is nothing you could possibly stand against, even on your most powerful night,” she said.

Then she pulled my hair, just a little, so she had my extra attention. 

“I am your mistress, and you are my pet. I have already put you in your place. Hell, you put yourself there. The reason we came out here today is so I can put your inner wolf in her place so she’ll be ready to look threatening in my court tomorrow without actually being threatening,” the queen said. 

Here I was torn. Because I wanted her to pull my hair a little harder and show me how I’d been put in my place. But a tiny growl echoed from my chest. The wolf was firmly in brat camp and as far from her place as inhumanly possible. From deep within my core, she practically challenged, “Call me forth, then.” 

My queen must have sensed this. Her magic pulsed within me. More shivers. It felt like she had a hand gently gripping my heart, reminding me how close she held it within her power. I knew she was in charge. And she wanted to make sure my wolf did as well. 

“Fret not, my pet. You cannot harm me. To further put your mind at ease, I brought Ceras, a capable talon, should you somehow grow too wild for even my abilities,” Varella said, her eyes glowing violet as the wind started to pick up. 

“Wait,” they said, crossing their arms. “I’m only here for the appearance of protection? Ouch. I am actually capable of protecting you, your grace.” 

Without looking over at him, my mistress said, “I know. You did just that in the Invasion of Thorn Bay.” 

Ceras looked like they were remembering hard for a moment before grinning. 

“Oh yeah. . . that was a hairy one,” they said, chuckling. 

“Are you ready, my pet?” Varella asked, ignoring him. 

I nodded. 

“Call her forth,” I said. And the Raven Queen did just that. Her magic powered up inside me like turning an analog dial on some ancient motherboard. My body began to hum, and the wolf inside me paced and stirred. 

A cloud of smoke built around me, engulfing my entire body. The tv shows make changing into a werewolf look like such a violent process, with muscles and bones being torn to reshape themselves. But in reality, turning into a wolf is more a matter of magical transformation rather than a simple biological one. 

After smoke hid my body, I felt a natural downward progression, moving to all fours. It wasn’t so much the wolf bursting from within as one skin being swapped for another in a few seconds. 

It didn’t hurt because your consciousness was essentially being put to sleep as the wolf took over, sliding into the pilot seat. 

When the smoke cleared, my instincts rocketed forth. The wolf had been listening and was clearly up for the challenge. 

“Your move, my pet,” the bird woman spoke. She smelled of dark feathers and deception, capable of gliding along the current of a moonless sky. 

The girl had given herself up willingly, but I would not. Could not. No bird would hold me captive. I’d sort this here and now with a proper challenge. 

My paws scraped the dirt as I paced to the woman’s left. She wouldn’t see me coming. There was another presence in the clearing, but that individual didn’t matter. They were subordinate to the woman who wished to cage me. 

I would show her the power of a massive brown wolf, the claws and jaws of a hunter that no game could evade. The bird woman would come to regret her arrogance. 

“What are you waiting for, my pet?” she taunted. 

And I rushed forward, flanking the woman and fully prepared to sink my jaws into her throat. Only, she wasn’t there. She had been. But now only a few dangling feathers remained in her previous spot. 

I landed in the soil and listened close, focussing in on her heartbeat. She reappeared closer to the creek, and I darted around the clearing at great speed. This time, I wouldn’t give her the chance to see which direction I’d dive in from. 

She waited patiently with a smile on her lips. Those same lips would part to scream momentarily when my jaws found their target. I was ready for faerie blood. Was she?

Done circling, I rocketed forth, 210 pounds of muscle and fur, jaws wide ready to sink into her pale flesh. 

Imagine my surprise when she didn’t disappear into a pile of feathers this time, but instead dove under my jaws and reached up with a single arm wrapped around my underside. How did she move so fast?! I barely had time to register what was happening as she ended my momentum, aglow in a violet magical aura, and quickly flipped me onto my back. 

Before I could react, she thrust me to the ground with just a fraction of her power. It was enough for me to slam into the earth and sink in a few inches, pushing all the wind and fight out of me. 

Was there pain? Sure. But the pure shock of it all, the speed, the unpredictability, the raw magical force, left me shell-shocked. 

My impact was apparently powerful enough that trees and bushes rattled around us, and the creek even pulsed. I heard Ceras gasp as dull pain radiated through my back. 

And before I could even begin to work my claws, the bird lady had her own nails upon me, one hand on my heart, the other at my throat. 

“Submit, beast. Or I spill your blood. Choose quickly,” she hissed. 

It wasn’t much of a choice. But I licked her cheek lightly, just once. She grinned. 

“You are bested, wolf. You recognize me as your leader without question. Now retreated back inside. I call you forth, Sierra Chelsi.” 

I let forth a mournful howl as smoke once again engulfed my body. Wolf instincts diminished as my own consciousness regained its footing, pulled forward by my mistress’ magic. 

Within 30 seconds, I became aware of two things. First, I was on my back in the dirt entirely naked. And the Raven Queen stood over me with a wicked grin. 

“How did it go?” I asked, throat a little parched. 

“I claimed victory easily enough, my pet. Not even in your most powerful moments were you close to overwhelming me. You and your wolf are mine, and tomorrow you’ll be in court by my side,” she said. 

With that, the queen pulled her feather cloak around me and scooped me up. I felt dizzy as I always did after a shift. Even if the Raven Queen called my beast forward, the transformation still ate my body’s energy. 

I sighed as we headed back toward the palace. 

“Do you want me to carry her, your grace?” Ceras asked. 

My mistress responded, “She is my pet, not yours.” 

You can find story with these keywords: The Fae Queen’s Pet, Read The Fae Queen’s Pet, The Fae Queen’s Pet novel, The Fae Queen’s Pet book, The Fae Queen’s Pet story, The Fae Queen’s Pet full, The Fae Queen’s Pet Latest Chapter