Zion

The cold air nips upon my bare skin, my body shuddering as I grab the blanket, cradling my body within it.

I’m still cold, goosebumps forming upon my skin as I let out a deep sigh.

Reaching over, I await the warm body I’m to hold onto, only, as I reach out, my hand lands on empty sheets.

Right away I sit up, scanning the massive room as I look for any sign of the man that inhabits this bed with me and has for nearly a week now. Looking left and right, I find no evidence of Zion, the bed untouched as just hours ago he was by my side as a thunderstorm roared outside, lightening striking the lake.

Getting to my feet, my toes sink into the Persian rug, my hands wrapping the robe around my bare body as the outline of a man can be seen on the balcony.

He’s restless as I am as well tonight.

Following the figure, I walk out to the balcony, the strong winds hitting my face as the sky is still dark, no stars no moon to be seen.

“They say when not even the glory of the Moon Goddess can be seen at night that bad things are on their way,” Zion speaks, letting me know he’s already sensed me here.

I nod, wrapping my arms around the male as the freshly done mark sits upon the crook of my neck.

For months he’s been wanting to do that, to sink his canines into my flesh as he claims me as his and no one else’s. It’s the scar now of his bite mark, already healed and tingling as I hold the Alpha King within my grasp.

I placed mine upon his neck, a tad lower than his ear, on the opposite side of Lillian’s. Lillian, his rightful mate and murdered one as well. Zion tells me he plans on taking revenge upon Nixon in the end, to deal out a fate brutal as Nixon did to Lillian.

“But let’s forget what myths as stories tell us, Zion, at least for the night. Ignore this warning and just look ahead towards tomorrow,” I comment, my voice a mere whisper in the wind.

Zion turns around, facing me as those eyes stare into the pits of my soul. “What are we even doing, Sybil? Am I pushing marriage upon you? Am I? Am I so afraid that I’ll die in the war that I will leave a Kingdom unattended if I don’t marry and leave someone to t-

I slap the King, a light one, but enough to silence him as my eyes harden. “You don’t ever say that again, Zion,” I snap, holding his face in my hands as I offer him a warm smile. “We are getting married because we love one another. Yes, the factor of war does play a role in the pressure to tie the knot sooner, but fate always planned we would be married one time or another. Don’t think about the past or future.” I stand upon my tip toes, my lips brushing his. “Think about the present, even the events of tomorrow. Tomorrow we tie a knot we’ve wanted since you went down onto your knee on your birthday,” I whisper, giving the King a soft and long kiss.

We savor the moment as my hands find their way to his hair, my heart pounding within my chest as Zion’s body offers me warmth and comfort. “I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world, Zion.”

“Nor would I,” Zion replies, setting his hands upon my hips as the sprinkles turn into rain.

My hair becomes soaked, the silk robe sticking to me like a second skin as Zion’s bare chest becomes drenched in water. “You won’t leave me, will you? Not again?” Zion asks, pressing his forehead against mine as thunder cracks in the distance.

“I promise I won’t nor have any intent to,” I reply, pulling the king in for another kiss, leading him back into the bedroom as my eyelids become heavy. “Just come back to bed and sleep. We have a long day ahead tomorrow and you’ll need all the sleep you can get.”

As my body falls back upon the silk sheets, Zion joins, pulling me close to him as the storm goes on outside, leaving us in a deadly silence. I listen to the rain and wind, my eyes open as the Alpha King falls to rest beside me.

He asked me not to leave him again, to not be gone with no warning. But it should be I asking that, asking if he will return. I should be asking if he’ll just one day disappear from my life and I’ll be left alone to a world of my own, nothing but the silence of the halls to keep my company.

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“You look beautiful,” a familiar voice comments from the door.

Turning around, I see the familiar Alpha, Penelope, wearing a rich purple dress as her red hair is pinned back.

I picked her as my maid of honor. Why? Who else? Even though Penelope has proven herself a bitch to me countless times she still respects me.

“And you as well,” I reply, looking back to the mirror as the maids finish the final touches.

The dress is beautiful, one Zion sent the best fairy over to make all the way from Russia. The train of the dress goes back two meters, the dress a pure white with lace for the long sleeves, the back scooping down as pearls line the opening, the material the most expensive Zion could find, and everything perfect. The veil is gorgeous as well, silk lace, covering my face and my locks of hair pinned back in a bun as my earrings are long with tons of diamonds covering the platinum.

It makes me think of my mother, how she would be crying if she stood beside me. My mother would be so happy for me, to watch this day. My father would lead me down the isle to my husband and give me over. No, my wedding will not be exactly how I always dreamed of, but I now I am to marry a man I’ll never regret sealing the deal with.

Lord Kane will be escorting me down the isle, an older Lord who I had met when saying the word ‘penis’ in the halls of the ballroom.

“Ready?” Penelope asks, holding her hand out for me to take.

“I have no idea. My feet are shaking and I’m scared.”

“Don’t be,” Penelope replies, leading me to the door of my room.

Zion and I will be married within the throne room of the palace, the Queen’s throne back up beside the King’s, over five hundred Alphas, Lords, and royal family members invited. In the courtyard of the palace just outside are the ‘common folk’ as Zion says those here for the story, to capture pictures, to look upon a moment in history.

As I, Sybil, take the hand of Zion in marriage and also take the throne as Queen of the Werewolf Empire.

Lord Kane stands outside, his graying hair combed back as his blue eyes meet mine. “Are you ready?”

I nod, watching as Penelope as she disappears down the hall to take her place before the ceremony truly begins.

Already I can hear the chatter, the lights of the massive Windows flooding in as the palace truly looks like a fairytale.

It all feels so strange, so sudden, so exciting. So unreal.

The trumpets begin, calling me in to do my walk as I find my feet frozen.

“What’s wrong?” Lord Kane asks as I watch the crowd before me. Seated in beautiful seats, the people await me, Zion standing just before the ride to the thrones, a Seeker of the Moon Goddess and Priest here to tie us together as one.

“Am I doing this right? Am I do this because I wa-

“Don’t think, Sybil, you’ve done enough of that,” Lord Kane whispers as he takes the first step, pulling me with him as the sunlight hits my face.

I take my first steps down the isle, watching only one person as he does so to me.

His hair combed back like a true gentlemen, his black tux paired with the royal robes of a king, sweeping the floor, the beautiful silver crown with multiple sapphires and diamonds upon his head. Zion looks not like my prince not knight in shining armor, but the man I’ve fallen head over heels for. How could I ever doubt marrying a man like him? A man that makes me feel save and treasured.

As Lord Kane let’s go of my arm, I find myself taking the hand of Zion, sparking flying through me as he offers me a million-dollar smile. I return it back with a softer one, the two of us facing the Seeker as he begins speaking in Greek.

The whole time my mind is wrapped around a daydream. One of Zion returning home in the future, picking up our son as he twirls the child around, laughing with him. In this daydream I’m happy, pleased, more than joyful as we walk hand and hand with our beginning family through the palace as we laugh and smile.

Yet another daydream crosses my mind, one of Zion’s body, dead, on the marble floors where we stand. I watch him, the motionless King as he’s laid to rest one last time and I’m left to rule a Kingdom with nothing but his memories to fill my days of sorrow.

The Seeker finishes off, looking towards the two of us as I know what comes next. Next the Priest will ask us if we are sure of our decision, and if a yes, then the Seeker with hold a cup under our left hands, cutting so blopd will drop into the goblet and we will become one as he chants an ancient spell. No, most werewolf wedding are not this way, but when it deals with an event in history where my name will be taught in packs even after my death, then it must be done.

“As the Priest of the Highest Temple of the Moon Goddess, I ask you now, do you, Zion Monquieff, take this woman before you, a creature of your goddess, to cherish and rule by your side till the tides of fate break your souls apart?”

“I do,” Zion replies, my heart skipping a beat as Zion squeezes my hand.

He’s said yes.

“Do you, Sybil Black, take this man before you, a creature of your goddess and the blood of the purest wolf, to cherish and rule by your side till the tides of fate break your souls apart?”

Do I say yes or no. If I say no I’ll never know which daydream will become reality. Thought if I say no maybe Zion will never die the way I’ve envisioned. But what do I want? What do I want to do? This could be heaven or hell.

“I do.”

Before I can even get a grasp upon reality, my left hand is taken, a sharp blade running over the skin as the pain stings. I fist up my hand, blood leaking from my palm as it drops into a silver goblet.

Zion is next, his blood joining my own within the goblet as the Seeker starts another chant from the creation of the oldest wolf.

Suddenly, I can feel it, the chant, how my heart stops beating for four seconds, only to be revived as electricity runs through my veins. As Zion experiences the same things, the goblet shoots up into a massive white flame, dissolving into thin air as the crowd watching sees history being formed.

The Priest walks up to me, the crown of a Queen in his hands, one of beautiful colors. Just like the King’s, the crown is a silver band with points going up, sapphire gems covering the tips as well as a row on the bottom of the crown.

“With the power invested in me, I hereby claim and crown you, Sybil Black, Queen Sybil of the Werewolf Empire.”

I take to my knees, bowing my head as the piece of metal is placed upon my head, the vein under it as the room grows silent. A heavy layer of royal robes are places upon my shoulders, the white and black fur along the navy satin with silver embroideries.

“Rise, Queen Sybil, and take your throne,” the Priest states.

My shaking legs manage to withstand getting back up, looking up to the set of marble stairs where Zion’s throne is beside mine. Looking to my right, I look at Zion, pure adornment and happiness flooding his eyes as I take my first steps.

Zion ascends the stairs with me, hand in hand, we walk as husband and wife, picked mates, and King and Queen of a strong Empire.

Taking the throne, I look below to the crowd, watching as their eyes are placed upon me. I can see jealously, pride, love, and respect in so many eyes. As Zion’s hand is laced with mine, I can feel my wolf at rest, no longer afraid of what I will choose to do.

I’ve made my choice, I’ve picked my poison.

But will I have a fate like Socrates? Drinking my own poison as everything goes terribly wrong? Will I find myself alone in the end as I wonder what could have been done differently to keep this man alive.

Alive just another day to see my face one more time.

After all, Zion leaves tomorrow, heading into battle, right on the front line as his life is at stake.

This could be my last day with the man I love more than anything in the world. The man who opened my eyes to a new person I’ve become.

I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to lose a man who holds my heart in his hands. I can’t lose him. I cannot lose this man I stayed up all night thinking of.

Taking in one calm breath, I look to Zion, meeting his golden brown eyes as he smiles at me. A smile that warms my heart as our story has just begun.

A story that I don’t want to know how it ends.