CHAPTER 315: THREE BRIDES II

"Where is your mind, Sage?"

A pause. "Isla, tap your friend... I don’t think she is here with us."

But I was, not fully, but I was. I had heard her gloat about her family’s thriving business, had heard the pride hanging in every word that left her mouth, had heard the condescending tone too when she addressed Isla, or asked about her family, especially when Isla had revealed that she was the black sheep of her rich but ignorant family.

Naomi had truly changed. Or was it a façade to keep up with Claire and Lilian?

I didn’t think so, not with that cold glint that had stayed in her eyes when she had suggested playfully that Isla and I be thrown into the dungeons.

But when Isla tapped me, I pretended like I had been lost in thought. "Yeah, did something happen?" I murmured, crossing my legs, eyes fixed on the three brides who stared at me like they just couldn’t understand me or my audacity.

Their gazes were sharp, studying me as though I were some rare creature they hadn’t encountered before. I was sure they hadn’t seen anyone like me before, that they hadn’t met someone who challenged or made them feel this insecure.

"Why aren’t you talking... didn’t you say you wanted to hang out?" Naomi bit out, voice sharper than was necessary. Her brows pulled tight, her lips curling slightly as though she had tasted something bitter.

But was there even a necessary voice range for an insecure person?

I shook my head lazily, leaning back; the entire conversation bored me. "I never said that. You three wanted to hang out with us, and we agreed... it’s not every day a girl gets admired by royals..." My tone carried a dry edge, daring them to twist my words further.

"What!" Claire didn’t bother with her gentle face again. Her features twisted, her face contorting to the evil one I knew, the one I grew up with. Her nostrils flared, and her hands clenched into fists by her sides.

Lilian scoffed loudly, folding her arms across her chest, her chin lifting in practiced disdain. "I think we should leave these lowlives, girls... they are beginning to feel important."

Naomi concurred by getting to her feet, her gown swishing against the grass. "Be careful of what you speak, stranger... you might be paid back in kind and more for speaking against authorities." Her tone dropped low, threatening.

I laughed, the sound sharp and unrestrained, making their faces tighten further. "So because I didn’t find any of the topics engaging, because I found your insecurities nauseating, I would be visited by wrath?"

I shook my head, getting to my feet, ignoring Isla’s warning pinch at my side. "What are you going to do? Cry like a baby to your kings?"

Claire raised her hand to deal a slap on my face, but I wasn’t Maya, neither was I Dora. I was Sage. So I stopped her hand with mine, catching it mid-air with a grip that made her gasp, and dealt the same caliber of slap on her face.

The sound echoed through the quiet garden, humiliating.

They all gasped, except Isla, whom I could read was battling with a laugh. Her lips twitched, her shoulders quivered as though she might burst into giggles at any second.

"The next time you raise your hand against me, you will pay with your life, lowlife," I decreed, my voice cold, scanning them from head to toe with deliberate disdain.

Their expensive gowns glittered faintly under the noon light, but in my eyes they looked no different than scared children dressed up for play.

"You are not the only royals here." I chipped in, smiling when I saw their shock evident in their open mouths. Their faces paled, disbelief etched into their every expression.

"Let’s get out of here, Isla. Enough of this charade."

And together, Isla and I left the gaping brides behind, prepared for whatever consequences would come from that. Not that I would admit slapping them. It was good cameras hadn’t been employed in the garden.

"You know you are playing with fire... Adam might strip you away from the contest for slapping his bride," Isla whispered once we were out of earshot, her tone laced with worry though her eyes still carried the amusement she had tried to suppress earlier. "Never mind you are a royal as you admitted..."

I shrugged as we continued on our excursion around the pack, the air cool against my skin. "I don’t think so really. I think they would rather be curious to see the person audacious enough to slap a Luna."

Isla stopped walking, eyes widening as she watched me. "Is that why you slapped her?"

I smiled, eyes twinkling, mischief curling in my chest. "What better way to get their attention before the match?"

Isla laughed, shaking her head, strands of her hair slipping loose around her face. "You are crazy."

"But wise enough. They would rather increase the quality of people fighting me in the contest just for fun, just to please their brides. Nothing much."

We continued walking, and soon the path opened up into new terrain. The stone pavement shifted into a dirt track as we passed the boundary of one region into another. The houses here were different—smaller, less polished, with worn fences. Smoke rose from chimneys, and children’s laughter rang faintly in the distance.

Unlike the central pack, this place felt raw, untouched by the luxury that clung to the main compounds.

I slowed my pace, my eyes drinking in the sight. I had never visited the neighboring regions under the Lycan King, so this was a new sight. It felt alien yet oddly grounding.

People peered at us from doorways, their wary glances sharp, filled with suspicion. Mothers tugged their children closer, men paused in their evening work, their gazes heavy on us.

I felt where my spell of protection—which I had cast over the pack years ago—had stopped. The air thinned here, the invisible shield no longer humming with energy.

My senses stretched, cataloging every gap, every weakness. I made a note to inform the Queen to start the attack from the colonies. The borders were soft, vulnerable.

There were guards, yes, standing at posts with spears glinting under torchlight, but the vampires could easily take care of them.

My phone dinged with a message in my pocket, pausing my thoughts. The sharp tone startled Isla, who glanced at me curiously.

Still walking, still checking out the area around us, my hand dipped into my pocket and pulled my phone.

The message had come from the board in charge of the contest.

"What’s that? Raul?" Isla asked, leaning over slightly to peek, curiosity bright in her tone.

I shook my head to Isla’s question. "It’s from the board."

I had stopped walking, my eyes scanning the strange names scrolling across the screen. There were times too, not only for the combat, but for the horse riding, and other events.

"I thought they were ancient..." Isla muttered, her brows furrowed.

I shrugged, sliding the phone back into my pocket. "Maybe they figured that the contestants wouldn’t be pleased with their ancientness, hence the messages through the phones. Whatever the reason, let’s head back. My first fight is tomorrow."

We turned around simultaneously, our footsteps soft against the dirt path. The distant stares followed us until the houses faded behind. We could continue the excursion another time.

—

"I want to rest," Isla gasped out, breathing in and out heavily. Sweat dampened her hair, her shirt clinging to her skin.

We had been training on the small space at the backyard of the house we were given, our view covered with magic so that whoever was looking from their houses wouldn’t be able to see us.

To someone outside, it looked like nothing but a cloud of smoke, a hazy curtain that concealed the movements within.

"Lazy human," I cussed, even though I fell to the ground myself, my back hitting the cool earth, breathing in and out, hunger and exhaustion beating against me at the same time.

My chest rose and fell rapidly, the strain of the evening weighing on me.

She laughed instead, bending at her waist to catch her breath, and asked if we were going to send a message to the Queen today.

I nodded, wiping sweat from my brow. "We’ll have to."

We entered the house, getting rid of our training clothes as we walked into the sitting room. The lights flickered softly, casting the room in a warm glow. The scent of food wafted to us immediately, rich and tantalizing. Dinner had already been served, waiting on the table like it had simply appeared from nowhere.

I frowned. "This service from nowhere doesn’t sit right with me." My eyes scanned the neatly set table, every plate in perfect order, food still steaming as though just freshly prepared.

Isla waved a dismissive hand, pulling a chair and collapsing into it. "Don’t worry. The maid assigned to us has the key to our door. She’s the only one serving us."

I didn’t like the ease with which she said it, but I sat down anyway, letting my hunger win the argument for the moment. I can dwell on the risky business later.

After dinner, after freshening up, after we both returned to our rooms, when the night had fully settled and the compound grew quiet, I slipped out.

Scaling the fence with ease, the cool stone brushing against my palms, I perched myself on the edge, scanning the dark horizon, my heart calm with purpose

I conjured a magic bird, its feathers glowing faintly blue in the night. It perched lightly on my wrist, intelligent eyes watching me.

"Take this to her," I whispered, pressing my thoughts into its mind, embedding the message and the directions like threads woven into fabric.

The smokish bird chirped once, its body shimmering before it took flight, wings beating the night air, vanishing toward the community that was the Queen’s.

I exhaled slowly, watching the faint glow fade into the distance. It has begun.

My lips curved into the faintest smile, just before I scaled the fence again.