C2 The Alpha King's Mate

Queen Lydia: 1000 years ago

Unwelcome, and motive-driven, humans force their way into my kingdom, and then my home, and capture my darling husband, King Pyrus, who is a hydrokinetic sprite, a creature among many, with the ability to manipulate water.

Crouching down on an imperial rug on the ground, in a designated safe-room behind a false wall, I quietly hide with our violet-eyed, eight-month-old-daughter, Princess Maia. This room is connected to an underground tunnel that leads me away from the castle.

Looking up in the direction of the moon and the stars, I know my husband’s life will not end well. In spite of this, I pray to the Moon Goddess that no harm should come to him, and I shed tears for him, our marriage and our beautiful life together, as I quietly flee through the hidden passage toward the forest border. Using all my energy, I run as fast as I can, while holding Maia. Leaves and branches whip my face and tear my dress as I hastily rush past them.

Panic rises in my chest, because I can hear running and shouting, they’re not far behind me, and they’re gradually getting closer. I’m desperate to avoid captivity, after all the horror stories I have heard about what these humans have done to other sprites.

‘Queen Lydia!’ Someone shouts, from behind a tree, not too far from me. I stop in my tracks, witches I do not know, wave at me, motioning for me to go to them.

‘Queen Lydia. Over here! Quickly!’ One yells, her face and body camouflaged by the giant tree she hides behind. I hide behind the tree next to them and they give me an empathetic smile.

‘I’m Lou. This is my sister Prunella. We’re relieved we have found you Queen Lydia. I fear we’re the only witches left. The humans have burned everyone we know on stakes, in the most horrific, barbaric fashion. We only just escaped. I fear it's only a matter of time until we’re captured. The werewolves haven’t had as many casualties as the humans. They’re putting up a real good fight against them; they may even be strong enough to defeat them,’ Lou says, hopefulness in her voice.

Maia coos from inside her swaddle and sucks her thumb.

‘They have killed every sprite. I was told a few have managed to get away. I fear it's only a matter of time until they’re captured again. My dear baby Maia. My princess. They will kill her if they find her,’ I say, falling onto my knees, and crying into Maia’s blanket.

Lou and Prunella look at each other with sympathetic glances, and Lou places her hand on my shoulder.

‘We can save Princess Maia, but we have to be quick. The humans are getting closer, and our power is depleting,’ Lou says.

‘How can you save her? Please tell me,’ I beg her. They share a quick, knowing glance before looking back at me.

‘We have enough power to save her.’ Lou explains.

I don’t want Maia to die at eight-months-old – it isn’t fair and her life has only just begun. Accepting Lou’s offer means I will never see Maia again after this, but if it saves her life and allows her to grow up into a beautiful young woman with elemental gifts, so be it. I kiss her forehead and tell her how much I love her before handing her to Lou.

‘Okay, if it saves her life we must do it,’ I sob.

Lou and Prunella kneel in front of a big, beautiful oak tree, and place Maia in her swaddle, inside an opening in

the tree’s hollow trunk. They hold each other’s bejeweled hands and chant:

Goddess of the moon,

Place this sweet child to

sleep and make the years leap.

When the moon shines bright,

in her time to retake and find her love,

open her eyes and make her wake.

The tree’s bark begins to move, as it swirls magically around Princess Maia in kaleidoscopic strands, creating an egg out of its bark, and encasing her inside it. When it is finished homing her, the tree trunk sutures over, forming a knot in itself, sealing the egg and my daughter inside.

‘What will happen to her?’ I ask, mesmerised by what I have just witnessed.

‘She will grow very slowly in the egg, and when the time comes, long after we have gone, the Moon Goddess will know when it's time for the forest to release her. The forest will raise her and it will be her home. The animals will befriend her, and teach her who she is. She will awake with a good grasp of our language, and basic life skills. She will know her name. She will have the chance

to have a fulfilling life, when all of this is but a fairytale. We have placed many people’s babies in the trees for them so that they may be kept safe.’ Lou explains.

Nodding, I smile at the thought that my daughter and many other innocent children have the chance to have a happy life filled with harmony, peace and acceptance.

‘I see them! Over there!’ A human shouts. We soon realise we are surrounded. Being pyrokinetic, I can create and manipulate fire. My gifts are a blessing, they’ve never let me down before, and they certainly won’t desert me now. A man is about to hurl his axe in my direction, but I’m quick to use my powers, and I cast a flame beam, and hurl it at him, engulfing him in flames. He screams and writhes around on the ground in pain, burning.

Two sword-wielding men run toward me from my left. I jump into the air just in time, as the one who crouches down, steels himself, to swing his sword at me.

His counterpart swings his sword toward my neck, and this I narrowly miss too, as I lean backward and quickly raise my leg to kick him firmly in the chest, away from me. Balls of flames materialise in the palms of my hands, and I throw them at both men, successfully hitting one, and missing the other.

I’m suddenly gasping for breath as an iron chain whips itself around my throat, choking me. Struggling to stand, I resort to kneeling, and fight the man behind me.

The man who evaded my flame ball stomps toward me

and yanks my head up by my hair.

I feel the deep sting of a sharp knife impaling my heart, and the warmth of my blood trickling from my chest and down the fabric of my dress. I collapse on the ground, knowing I’m dying; I lay there unable to move, becoming weaker.

Lou and Prunella, who have been captured and tied up against stakes, anticipate their imminent deaths, as one of the men approaches them with a fire torch and sets them alight. I can't watch, so I close my eyes and try to block out their screams. An eerie silence washes over us all, as the men walk away, triumphant and laughing.

Loud growls pierce the quiet night air, when hefty silhouettes bolt toward the men and quickly devour them, ripping their heads off. The wolves shift into human form and run toward me.

‘We’re too late,’ one of the men says.

I use what energy I have left to make the tree that my precious baby is in, my last living memory.

‘Live well, my child.’ I whisper.