CHAPTER 2: THE ROAD TO DESTINY
LEYLA
"No! Leyla, you can't do it!" Lyra rushes toward me and throws her arms around me. "They say the elves use humans for experiments! That they strip us of our humanity so their children can be born with magic!"
I look at her with all the love I feel, stroking her hair while trying to keep my own hands from trembling. She, like me, had grown up hearing all those stories; but the truth was that no human woman who has crossed the gates of this kingdom has ever returned to tell what happens out there. The world of the five races was a dark place. The elves were beings of supernatural beauty, but do not let that fool you: their arrogance and lack of empathy made them fearsome. Then there are the orcs who, it was said, hid savage and brutal instincts beneath their human appearance. And the werewolves... people only spoke of them in whispers. It was said they are bloodthirsty monsters who mark their females with fangs and claim them as their absolute property.
At least I am going to the elven kingdom, I thought. It is said their prince, Vaelorn, is the most beautiful being to ever walk the earth. With a bit of luck, I might become his companion, and with a bit more luck and enough cunning, perhaps I can negotiate my existence. Hope is the last thing to die.
"It's the only way, Lyra," I whisper so only she can hear. "If I go, you will be safe. If I go, our father will keep his crown and the people will have bread and peace for another year."
If anyone asked me, I truly didn't want to do it; I was terrified of leaving my comfort zone, the security of the castle that was my home. I look up and see Chancellor Ferrick nod, though I glimpse a flicker of pity in his eyes. I hate pity; it can do nothing for anyone.
"It is a noble gesture, Princess. The royal carriage will depart at dawn; the King's guards will escort you to the border of the Crystal Forest. Once there, the elves will receive you."
I nod as best as I can and swallow the lump forming in my throat; my stomach churns with nerves. Inside, I am screaming because I don't want to go anywhere. My father covers his face with both hands and sobs. That makes my breath hitch; I had never seen my father cry before, not the great King Aldric. This man before me is broken: a sovereign who has just traded his firstborn's life for his own throne. Or so he thinks. I don't want him to feel that way, but what other choice would we have? I feel a sting of contempt, but I stifle it. It no longer matters.
"Your Majesty, it is important that you go out there and let them know the news."
I didn't want to stay to see my father announce that he would surrender his eldest daughter as a tribute. I left the Great Hall and went to my room. Lyra understood the unspoken message that I wanted to be alone; I needed to process what was about to happen.
I couldn't sleep at all that night; it was impossible. I spent the time packing the bare minimum: a few books, a silver dagger hidden in the lining of my boot, a pendant with my mother's crest, and some clothes. I stand before the mirror, observing my reflection and wondering if I will ever see myself like this again, or if the "tribute" will change me forever. I have no idea what destiny has planned for me.
At dawn, the atmosphere was different. The air felt changed; the crowd was already gathering in the plaza again, but this time they weren't shouting. They kept a deathly silence as the black carriage, pulled by four thoroughbred horses, pulled up before the palace steps.
All right, the moment has come. I can do this, I know I can, I repeat that mantra in my head while gripping the edges of the fur coat I wear over my traveling dress. I take a deep breath and straighten my spine, turning it to steel, as I walk out with my chin held high without looking back and climb into the carriage. I cannot let anyone see that I am crumbling inside. I am scared to death. Hell, who wouldn't be; I am about to be taken to be handed over and then... No, I wouldn't think about it.
"May the gods protect you, Leyla!" someone from the crowd shouts.
The carriage sets off, and the royal guards' armor clinks as they ride alongside. As the city is left behind and we enter the wooded paths, I lean back, away from the window. The place frightened me; this is where the boundaries of human territories begin and the mist starts to descend.
"Your Majesty," the voice of the captain of the royal guard sounds as he approaches on his horse and the carriage comes to a halt. "The sky is closing in. There is a storm brewing, and the lightning we see is not normal for this season. The main road to the Elven Kingdom is blocked by a rockslide. We will have to go around through the Southern Pass."
A chill runs through me, and it has nothing to do with the weather.
"The Southern Pass? Isn't that the edge of the Howling Pass territory?"
I don't get a quick response from him. I peek out the window to see him through the glass, but he avoids my gaze; I see the doubt on his face.
"It is a no-man's-land, Princess. Or so the ancient maps say. We won't pass that close to the wolves' territory, but it's our only route if we want to arrive before the storm traps us in the open."
I nod slowly, unconvinced. A strange sensation presses against my chest; something tells me that "no-man's-land" is actually the kingdom of the wolves. The domain of Krul, the Blood Alpha; the man who, they said, had ripped out his own mate's heart with his own hands... or claws.
As the carriage plunges into the thicket, the wind begins to howl—a sound that sounds all too much like a wolf claiming what is his. I quickly lean down and tighten my grip on the dagger hidden in my boot. I am not sure if a silver dagger can protect me from the danger lurking outside among the trees, waiting for the exact moment to strike.