Lycanthrope

  A Renaih Kingdom novel

  Olivia Rose

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 by Olivia Rose

  Cover design by Eric Scopelliti

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copywrite owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

  Published by Olivia Rose via Kindle Direct Publishing

  To anyone who was ever told they weren’t capable.

  You are.

  Chapter one

  Natalia

  The crowd’s gaze weighed heavily upon her as she held her stance, feet shoulder-width apart, arms relaxed behind her back, eyes on the wooden planks below. Was she doing it wrong? Tutors in the past had commended her on her form, how could she have it wrong now… after all this time? She focused on thoughts which were intended to instigate mutation—the light from a full moon, a distant howl, the smell of gasoline. She felt no different. Minutes passed as she tried to keep her composure. Focusing on posture and grounding herself, she became one with the floor below. She was firm. She was strong. She was capable.

  Why was nothing happening?

  After a few moments she looked up and locked eyes with her mother just a few rows away, Dahlia’s expectant stare something she wished she could forget. Her mother’s brows furrowed as her lips parted into an expression of dismay. Natalia couldn’t do it. She’d embarrassed her. She was a disappointment.

  The look on her father’s face beside Dahlia’s confirmed it.

  ×

  Natalia woke to the booming crack of wood. “Nat, get up.” Her father’s voice from the other side of the door bellowed like a drum.

  Begrudgingly, she pushed away from her bed and wiped the dried tears from the corners of her eyes. The dreams she’d grown used to, though she’d never understood how a person could cry in their sleep. She stood and crossed the room, stepping over articles of clothing splayed across the floor, before reaching her wardrobe. She opened the doors, allowing a few loose garments to fall from their shelves, before grabbing a pair of dark trousers and a white jersey. Pulling a change of undergarments from the top drawer of the neighboring bureau, she made her way into the attached washroom.

  She bathed quickly beneath the hot water, lathering her body and hair generously before turning the water off. Stepping out of the bath-stall, she wrapped a towel tightly around her, letting her heavy, wet hair hang down her back to dry. She wiped the steam from the mirror above the basin and took in her appearance.

  Her skin had welcomed the recent sun, it glistened like caramel beneath the lingering water droplets, but she welcomed the rain. She often searched for reasons to remain indoors, away from the busy bodies on the streets of Shotstaff. She found her silver-lining within the grey clouds outside her bedroom window. Brushing her fingers through her long, thick hair, she shook out as much water as she could, before dropping the towel and getting dressed.

  She could feel the water seeping through the back of her jersey as she brushed her teeth, though she couldn’t have been bothered to change into another. Once her teeth were cleaned, she took a hot face cloth to her cheeks before briefly taking in her appearance. Natalia had amber eyes, just a few shades paler than her mother’s, and with subtle flecks of blue around her pupils. She pushed her dark eyelashes around with her fingertips, and momentarily considered applying powders, before discarding the thought all-together and heading out the door.

  ×

  Natalia found her seat at the back of the room, where she was most comfortable. Her peers filed in one after the other, separating among their usual cliques. The Lycans with gifts of Determination and Premonitions sat together at the left side of the room.

  Lycans were notorious for their heightened intuition. As descendants of wolves, they shared their sense of foreboding. Casters, too, experienced Premonitions, though their old and calculated magic surpassed that of the Lycans’ primal instincts. The Western Casters of Cruxa often poked fun at the Lycan species for their similarities to the common housedog, ‘barking up the wrong tree’ with little-to-no incriminating evidence. When a Lycan’s premonition came to them, it came in bits and pieces, never as clear as a Caster’s. The wolf-descendants experienced this warning in a series of sounds or images, usually instigated by a sound or scent of relevance. Lycans born with the gift of Premonitions were enrolled in Futurity during their special-studies period.

  Much like the gift of Premonitions, a Lycan could be born with the gift of Determination. This gift allowed a Lycan to keenly identify a lie. While it is true that in battle this gift could prove all-but-useless, a Lycan with Determination was highly considered an asset to the Territorial Cabinet. The two Kneadeni representatives on the Cabinet both carried the gift of Determination. It’s a gift that Natalia herself had once wished she would inherit from her father, though it turned out to be only a pipedream. Lycans with the gift of Determination were enrolled in Perjury Identification.

  Those with the gift of Sight sat towards the back, two seats to her right. The two with the gift of Healing—two of only four Healers in all of Shotstaff—sat at the front, quieter than the rest.

  Natalia sat behind them all as they chatted familiarly with each other. Shotstaff Hall was much like any other educational institution. Some Lycans were well-liked with many friends, and others, like Natalia, were not. Her peers typically surrounded themselves with other like-minded students, as they shared classes targeted towards their specific gifts. Natalia, however, had no gifts to share. Before the Renewal Ritual two years prior, where she publicly failed to mutate into Lycan-likeness, her family was revered for their successful and highly-gifted bloodline. Now, the Banes were well-known for their deformed and barren child—the merit of their bloodline completely tarnished.

  The brawny boy who sat in front of Natalia, Blake Heathers, kicked the leg of her desk before taking his seat. Natalia rolled her eyes, ignoring his outburst. She’d gotten used to being disliked. After the Ritual, no one dared to associate with her. Her peers were more than warry of her deformity, and it wasn’t long before even her best friend, Bethany, had stopped talking to her altogether.

  “My,” said the artificial-blonde snob, Cecilia Trent, as she proceeded to take the seat to Blake’s left. “Aren’t you a brave one.”

  “How do you figure?” he asked as he leaned back in his chair, nonchalantly flexing his exposed muscles as he placed his hands behind his head.

  Cecilia nodded towards Natalia before whispering, “What if it’s contagious?”

  “Genetic conditions cannot be contagious,” interjected Natalia.

  Cecilia spun her sun-bleached head around so fast that she nearly whipped the girl in front of her with her hair. “Who said you could speak to me?”

  “It’s a free Kingdom,” Natalia replied with a passive eye-roll.

  Blake turned in his seat, placing his mahogany elbows atop Natalia’s desk as he narrowed his deep gaze on her beneath furrowed brows. His dark irises slowly and menacingly expanded to fill the whites of his eyes as a nearly inaudible growl escaped his throat.

  “Is that a threat?” asked Natalia, her voice hushed but unafraid.

  “I can hear your heart,” he said quietly, canines elongating to points over his bottom lip. He controlled his mutation very well, she noted, as he selectively transformed his eyes and teeth, maintaining an otherwise mundane appearance. A long canine pricked his bottom lip, sending a trickle of blood down his chin.

  “How does it sound?” Natalia asked calmly.

  “Fast,” Blake smirked, grinning an evil grin of sharp teeth, one dripping red.

  “Good morning, class!” their bubbly history tutor, Tina Prival, greeted as she hustled through the door.

  Twice as quickly, Blake retracted his teeth, leaving Natalia with a smug wink before turning to face their professor. She hoped he could no longer hear her heart racing through mundane-ears. She glanced over at Cecilia whose chin was propped condescendingly in her hand. She leaned forward in her desk as she glared back at her, her throat emitting an annoyed snarl. Not the Lycan kind; the high-browed, mean-girl kind.

  With a careless smirk, Natalia shook her head and turned her gaze ahead of her, buckling in for a hopefully uneventful class.

  Which lasted about twenty seconds.

  “As you all know, the Claiming is near,” Professor Prival began. Natalia’s peers growled and giggled in anticipation. At the Claiming Ceremony, the eighteen-year-old Lycans would potentially be assigned to a mate. It happened the night of the last full moon before Somertyde, just six moons away. “Settle down now,” she hushed the room. “You’ll have a week to prepare yourselves. Anyone of you could be Called, so it is important to remember to enjoy this time with your loved ones. Once you are mated, your lives will change entirely.”

  The class remained quiet as she spoke those words; ‘Your lives will change entirely.’ She’d said it so calmly, Natalia observed. She wondered if Professor Prival had been taken from her family at her own Claiming Ceremony, stripped of her maiden name without so much as an ‘I do’. Being Claimed wasn’t much of a concern for Natalia. She would attend, per tradition—and loathe every second of it—but she found it unlikely that she, an infertile non-wolf, would be Claimed. She considered her parents as
she wondered, would their reputation improve if she left, never to be heard from again? Would they try for another child? She’d considered fleeing, after her mother first started to decline, but had ultimately decided against it. She did not wish to burden her parents or draw any more attention to her family than she already had, and she was acutely aware that everything she did reflected, in some way, onto them.

  Professor Prival lifted her tone. Her eyes were wide and round marbles of brown as she spoke. “This year, Councilmen Bane and Vice have arranged a bit of a surprise for you all.” A few of her peers glanced towards Natalia displeasingly at the mention of her surname. “They have extended an invitation to our sister territory in the Northeast!” The tutor’s hands waved excitedly at her side, her gaze expectant on her students.

  A timid voice from the front of the room, a healer named Terry, spoke. “You mean… Achroma?”

  “Just the same!” Professor Prival was practically leaping out of her pearl-white slippers. “Your parents have been duly notified, and few of you will have the supreme honor of hosting our guests until the Ceremony!” Sharp intakes of breath were audible throughout the room as their excitement bloomed, but the room remained quiet, hanging onto each syllable. Natalia sunk further into her seat.

  “And what’s more?” Professor Prival sauntered towards the classroom door, eagerly clasping the knob as she turned back towards her students. “They will share the remainder of your lessons alongside you!” She turned the knob as girlish giggles sounded throughout the room. “With open arms, let us welcome the Achromans!” She pulled the door open wide and in walked five stunning creatures.

  Light Lycans.

  The entire class stilled as their guests crossed the front of the room, standing ahead like porcelain statues. They were tall and muscular, much like the Lycans Natalia had grown up around, but their skin was fair like coastal sand, their hair yellower than the sun’s rays. They even had pale eyes. Natalia instantly longed to witness one of them mutate—she’d never seen a blonde Lycan before. Unless you count Cecelia’s attempt at lightening her dark hair with lemon-juice, which Natalia did not.

  Professor Prival paced across the room to the first Achroman at the front of the class, directing a hand towards the girl before saying, “This is Angelica Masters.” The girl smiled a vibrant flash of perfect teeth, her cheeks perking up with a visible flush of pink. Her bold blue eyes were large and held long coated lashes which nearly touched her hay-colored eyebrows. Her light hair made Cecilia’s look like burnt straw. Natalia smiled as Cecilia sulked into her chair.

  “And this,” Professor Prival continued along. “Is Jameson Brand.” She stopped beside the boy adjacent, extremely tall with long and bumpy arms. He was thinner than most Lycans, Natalia noted as she took in his stature. He was wearing a sheer black jersey with short sleeves and a deep neckline, paired with fitted black trousers. Underfoot he wore low-profile plimsolls, also black. His hands were tucked casually into his pockets as his green eyes scanned the room. He offered the class a friendly head-nod, nothing more. Professor Prival went on to introduce the following Achroman students, but Natalia had stopped listening. She shifted in her seat and continued to analyze the boy in black. His hair was a blonde, tousled mess, but he didn’t seem to care. For a moment, his eyes rested on one of the Healers who sat towards the front of the room, Clara. She waved at him sheepishly, but his eyes continued past her without returning the gesture. Natalia watched as he scanned the classroom, as if he were studying them. She considered the possibility that he was equally entranced by the Kneadeni as they were by the Achromans. When his eyes finally met Natalia’s, she felt as if she’d frozen in place. Certain that his gaze would continue past her, she did not offer a smile his way.

  He did not avert his gaze.

  She could feel her cheeks beginning to rouge, but out of her own defensive habit, resisted the urge to break the stare. She would not be intimidated by any outsider-Lycan tactics. She would not show submission.

  Then the boy smiled, an impressive flash of perfect teeth, and her eyes betrayed her. They shot down to the desktop.

  Chapter Two

  Natalia

  “Now that we’re all acquainted,” Professor Prival’s voice cooed happily once she reached the end of the line. “Please, take any available seat. There are a few at the back of the room if you wouldn’t mind. I need to step out for a moment, please open your texts to Chapter Twenty—and share with our guests!” she sang, swinging the door closed behind her.

  Natalia kept her eyes focused on the knicks in the desktop as the sounds of shuffling shoes drew closer and closer. Do not let them daunt you, she reminded herself. As the familiar vibration of desk legs against the floor bustled at either side of her, she composed herself. Chin up, shoulders back, breath even. She’d sat in a room full of Lycans who hated her every day for nearly two years. She could sit beside strangers who knew nothing of her.

  “Best mind that one,” she heard Cecilia’s petty whisper to her left. “She’s a non-wolf.”

  Well, that lasted long, Natalia thought bitterly. To her left she found that Jameson had taken the seat beside her, and Cecelia had perched her elbows atop his desk. The girl batted her lashes at him curiously. His brows arched together as she twirled a lightened lock of hair between her fingers. She was really pulling out all the stops, Natalia noted as Cecilia continued to lean forward, exposing her cleavage in a tactful way.

  To Natalia’s surprise, Jameson turned his attention away from the other girl, meeting her own gaze as he asked, “What’s a non-wolf?” His voice was soft and low, and his gaze nearly halted Natalia’s breath.

  Blake turned quickly at that, loudly dropping his arm onto Natalia’s desktop and splaying his legs out into the aisle beside them. “An obliteration.”

  Shaking her head, Natalia sighed. “Abomination,” she corrected dryly. Turning back to Jameson, she explained, “I do not possess the lycanthrope gene.”

  He blinked at her as if he didn’t understand. Compelled to explain further, Natalia clarified, “I can’t mutate.”

  His eyes widened ever-so-slightly, but he did not reply. The way he stared made her skin crawl, as if she were covered in small insects. “Mhm,” Blake nodded. “A true offense.”

  “So,” Jameson spoke again. With a single syllable, he could acquire the attention of everyone around him. He did not need to raise his voice or speak radically; he simply spoke and had their ears. The three of them quieted as he directed his question towards Natalia. “You’re a Human?”

  Natalia was taken back. Blake and Cecilia chuckled beside them as she searched for the words to reply. Cecilia herself had once told her that she was ‘No better than Human’ in the past. It was meant to be a great insult, though it had never hurt her feelings the way it did when he said it. “Uh, no…” she replied warily, her cheeks warming with every word. “I’m a Lycan.”

  “Hardly,” Blake mocked, placing a large brown hand atop her notebook, swiftly sliding it to the floor. He laughed as she reached down to collect the journal, and with a quick flick of his fingers, sent her pencil flying afterward.

  “Stop!” She smacked his hand away before he could send the second pencil.

  Blake rose from his seat with a repulsed grimace. “How dare you touch me, mut.” He snarled down, stepping closer to her as anger flared in his eyes. His jaw began to elongate as jet-black fur sprouted from the tops of his ears. He was losing his temper.

  She stood to face him, unafraid. In the real world, there would be threats to face. Lycans had faced them for centuries. She would not be intimidated in a mere classroom. She looked up at him as his chest rose and fell in heated breaths beneath his white, well-worn jersey. An exhale rustled her lashes as he towered over her.

  “Enough.” The low voice beside them spoke clearly. Blake turned to face Jameson directly, Natalia hadn’t even noticed the boy standing up. Eye-to-eye, they stared at each other, testing their dominance. A low growl began to emanate throughout the room. They had their peers’ attention.