Queen of the Beasts: A Paranormal Romance Read online

  Copyright © 2021 by K.M. Carnoky

  All rights reserved. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in, or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known, hereinafter invented, without express written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  Typewriter Pub, an imprint of Blvnp Incorporated

  A Nevada Corporation

  1887 Whitney Mesa DR #2002

  Henderson, NV 89014

  www.typewriterpub.com/[email protected]

  ISBN: 978-1-64434-132-2

  DISCLAIMER

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. While references might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  queen of the beasts

  k.m. carnoky

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  For all the queens who are just trying to find their place in this world

  Trigger Warning:

  The following story contains

  strong language, physical violence, and sexual assault.

  Reader discretion is advised.

  Chapter One

  My ears swiveled on my head as I ran, keeping track of the members of my clan as we moved swiftly through the forest. The only sound was of our soft paws delicately hitting the decaying leaves and fallen branches; the rest of the world was quiet. The three of us wove through the thick forest, leaping over fallen trees and puddles—which had been left on the ground from the previous rain—and sprinting through the open areas to avoid detection. The threat of being exposed was exhilarating and alarming all at once. It made my heart pound with excitement as my tongue lolled out of my mouth. We were dangerously close to the royal lands, and it gave all of us a rush like no other.

  The royals were all-powerful and could do whatever they pleased to a small pack of wolves like myself and my teammates. I could be captured and beaten within an inch of my life every day if they felt so inclined. Or they could just kill us all without even blinking. There was always the possibility that we would never return home after one of our excursions, and though we never talked about it, we all knew it was true. But the royals were physically weak. Years ago, the werewolf kingdom had split from the human realm, struggling to keep both under control with such conflicting interests. But the first queen was a human mated to a half-blood prince, and it had only gotten worse from there. The pair had brought Queen Athena into the world, and the current queen of the werewolves, who had hardly any werewolf blood in her, was married to a human, unable to find a werewolf mate. Now the prince was a useless human—a man who could never shift into a wolf—and he was ruling the kingdom.

  It was pathetic, laughable even. And that was all the other werewolves were doing: they were laughing at the dire irony of the situation, while my team was exerting itself to the fullest in an effort to bring order back into our realm.

  The grand black wolf that was sprinting beside me tilted his head back and let out a low yip, snapping my attention to him. I just gave him a wolfish grin. Some would consider his actions brash and ignorant. We were on the brink of crossing into the royal lands, and he was drawing attention to us, alerting the guards who surrounded the area and were always vigilant—or so they pretended to be. But I knew that they were only protecting a frail little human. I knew that they had turned their backs on their true nature for the sake of walking around on two legs and having lavish parties in massive gowns like humans did—it was bizarre. And I knew that they were not prepared to face a true werewolf. They were lucky that we were just having harmless fun—for now.

  I willingly followed the midnight-black wolf, who made a sharp turn, breaching the boundary line—a small creek that nearly circled the palace grounds—panting hard with nervous excitement. Now the fun truly began, but so did the work.

  Yes, we were infinitely more in touch with our wolves, and we were faster and stronger on four legs than they could ever be on two. Nonetheless, there was always a risk. Fortunately, that was half the entertainment and all of the challenge. I adored pushing my stunning and small wolf to the absolute limit for the simple sake of annoying and inconveniencing the privileged few who were lucky enough to be guards for the king and queen.

  I watched my troop as we progressed. Thorn, the black wolf who guided us the majority of the time, had his ears pricked upwards and his eyes focused, watching for any movement. Hunter was on the opposite end of the spectrum, relying on his nose far more than his eyes or ears, trying to gather the scent of any guard who had been here in the last hour. He was the follower, the willing subject, and the easily swayed companion. And my job was to be the mediator between the two and a happy melting pot of all the senses. It was my job to find well-worn trails that would undoubtedly guide us to the palace and gaps between the areas that various rounds of guards covered. And because of my small stature, I was also the distraction if we got into a tangled mess. I was quick and tiny, hard to catch and so easy to lose. But now, all the playful acting had vanished because we could not go into this blind. If we were going to take down the pathetic human royals who pretended to guide the werewolves, we were going to need the most brilliant plan with as much information as possible to validate it. The king and queen might be weak, and the prince might be as close to human as a half blood could get, but they still had relatively capable guards who greatly outnumbered us.

  Each time we dipped into the forbidden lands, we progressed a little further. We had been able to catch glimpses of the grand castle that the prince and his parents lived in. It might be easier to just topple the whole castle instead of hunting down the individuals within it, and we had to be prepared to do that. We had found ar
eas that the guards thoughtlessly patrolled less often because they were further away from the main entrances. We had found smooth trails through the surrounding forest that hadn’t been used in months but would guide us to the palace or its surrounding buildings perfectly. And each time, we grew a little more confident, a little more brazen, seeing if the guards would chase us off their lands by taunting them relentlessly. It was an astounding game, like one played between a cat and a mouse. And so far, the cats saw the mice as nothing more than tedious and annoying. That meant that we won every time, fleeing their lands with more information than we had before. By the time they figured out our scheme, it would be too late.

  I did my work with pride, searching for streams and ponds that would act as landmarks. If I were to get tangled with a guard, would I dive behind the heavy bushes or race through the meadow? Judging by scent, no one had been here in weeks, but that didn’t mean that we wouldn’t come across anyone. We always had to be prepared. However, I had been so focused on assessing the world around me, trying to mentally prepare for the worst that could happen and the best possible outcomes, I hadn’t realized that my teammates were no longer by my side. They had vanished. I slowed down, trying to spot them. Then the worst possibility did happen.

  “My God.”

  The human voice made me freeze mid-stride. The sound gave me chills, and my head jerked towards the voice in panic. I had been so intent on my task, trying to assess possible threats for our massive attack, that I hadn’t been paying attention to possible threats for this exact moment. Because of my negligence, I hadn’t seen the massive bay horse that was only a few paces to my left, jigging anxiously on the spot.

  On the noble beast’s back was a human male holding it tightly. He was no guard as he was not wearing the mandatory uniform. I attempted to shift my body around as I examined him, but that was another mistake. His striking blue eyes captured mine, effectively eliminating my ability to turn away.

  I was horrified by the position that I had put myself in, and I was being a coward, almost waiting for him to call out to the guards—the only reasonable step after finding a rogue wolf in the royal lands. But I wanted to run. God, I wanted to get away. Yet, it was like there was an invisible tether that extended from the human to me, keeping me attached and unable to move despite the fear that had seeped into my bloodstream. There was a deep draw to this man that made a part of me—the less-than-sane part—want to stay.

  “Come here,” the man murmured.

  His voice made me want to whimper when I knew I should’ve been snarling ferociously. Never before had I come face to face with a human and not fought or fled. But his brash movements broke the spell. When he adjusted his hold on the reins and moved to dismount, his skittish horse tossed its large head and flashed the whites of its eyes—this prey animal did not fare well against predators.

  That was enough for me. When my eyes darted off the man to catch the movement of the animal, whatever vile spell that had fallen over me broke. I shifted my weight to my haunches, spinning away from the pair so quickly that the startled horse reared, swinging its forelegs in the air. I bolted both from the heavy hooves and from the man.

  I heard something fall to the ground, but I didn’t bother to look back to see what had happened. I had adjusted my path so I was facing my escape, and I didn’t allow myself to think about anything else. I just had to get back to my pack of misfits, and all would be well. We would probably even laugh about this someday.

  My sleek grey wolf raced through the woods that I was coming to know so well. I dodged and darted around stumps and logs, and avoided ponds and creeks that would’ve slowed me down and made an excess of noise. But I was running so quickly, exerting myself so aggressively, that I was panting madly. I was probably loud enough to be heard from a kilometre away. My ears were constantly moving upon my head, listening desperately for the sounds of guards chasing me or the man crying out for help, but I didn’t hear a single thing. I didn’t know if it was puzzling or comforting, but I forced myself to ignore the oddity and press on.

  I ran hard for a long time. After about an hour, I slowed my pace to a calm lope, baffled by the fact that I hadn’t gotten caught. I had been in the royal lands, damn near offering myself on a platter, but still, no guards had managed to detain me. I didn’t know what to make of it. I decided I would have to speak to my teammates about it before we attempted to go back for more scouting. But when I arrived home, in a tiny clearing in the middle of a dense forest, I stiffened with all the tension that was in the air. Thorn had been waiting for me, standing in human form, only wearing stolen trousers.

  “That was a grand performance. I’m sure the prince enjoyed spotting you while he was out on his afternoon ride.”

  I ducked my head and let out a soft whimper.

  “We can’t stay here,” he continued. “The guards will come looking for us since you made such a public appearance. We need to find a new place to set up camp for the time being. Pack your things. I don’t want to be here when the guards finally decide to do their job. God knows what humans like them would do to rogues like us.”

  Chapter Two

  As a trio of rogues, we were on the move rather often, so this was nothing new to us. This was simply the way things had to be. We were seen by packs as unruly and untrustworthy.

  One didn’t become a rogue by accident. We had to be rejected by our packs because we had committed a heinous crime, because we were physically unwell and would only endanger the pack, or because we were not able to properly function within the structure of pack life—we could also have run away. And for these reasons, no werewolves wanted us near their territories. They thought we must be dangerous and deranged if we wanted to live our lives away from civilization. Wolves were designed to rule in packs after all. But I didn’t feel that we were violent or unpredictable, at least not towards the majority of our kind.

  As we packed up our lives once more and moved to a new location, I thought about the lives of my companions: Thorn was the only one of us who had decided to be a rogue. He had wanted to rebel against the royals since he was a young pup, but his pack had refused to stand behind him on such a dangerous front. He was cast aside when he was only twelve years old. Being tossed out when he was so young simply because he had an opposing opinion only heightened his dislike of the royals, and he vowed to do whatever he could to impede their way of life. Hunter, on the other hand, had been born with a deformed hind leg. His warrior parents abandoned him in the woods at the very young age of eight when they assumed that it was something he would not grow out of. Thankfully, Thorn found him and saved his life, and Hunter grew to be a resourceful and fully functioning werewolf. Together, they began plotting their attack against the royals.

  I had been the last one to join the group, and my story was more bizarre: My mother had been a wonderful luna when I had been a young girl. The entire pack adored her without end. She was a beautiful, strong woman who stood beside a proud alpha male—her legal husband and my father. Then, little by little, she destroyed my life. One night, she went out for a solo run, and when she returned home, she mumbled about a wolf she had seen. She claimed he was the most beautiful creature she had ever laid eyes on. For a few nights, I could hear her crying softly to herself. After a week, I heard her and my father arguing. I didn’t remember much, but I did recall him scoffing and telling her that mates were unnecessary and alliances had to be forged for strength, and her screaming back at him, telling him he had been more human than wolf. The next morning, she had been gone.

  My father never went after her; he simply went on to find a new, younger wife. When I asked him about it, he told me that my mother had made her choice and I merely had to accept it. I might have accepted the disappearance of one family member if Oliver had not followed suit. He left one morning to report to the royals and never returned. No explanation was offered. No one asked for details. So, I was left with a new mother, no brother, and a distant father. My only purpose was to
be obedient and silent. But I was more stubborn and more determined than my father had ever given me credit for. I decided that if he wouldn’t go after her, then I would. Someone had to find her; she could be hurt or lost. I didn’t realize that I was being naïve.

  I left in the middle of the night, hoping to track her down and bring her back home, where she belonged. I thought she and my father would apologize to one another, as husband and wife should, and my world would return to normal. But I knew my father would heavily disapprove of this as he was too proud for his own good, so I used the cover of the night to sneak out of our little house and off our packlands.

  I trekked through the dense woods all night in search of my mother. I called out to her until my voice was hoarse and I was slightly dizzy from dehydration. I had been so focused on my task, so convinced that I would find her and everything would be well again, that I didn’t realize that I had gotten very lost until the sun had risen the next morning. With the world around me illuminated, dread set in. I was eleven, uneducated, terrified, and completely alone in an unsafe territory.

  During the week that I was alone in the woods, I came to understand how right my mother was. I was supposed to be an unstoppable predator. I was supposed to be a beautifully constructed hybrid between a powerful beast that conquered the forestlands and tundra, and the resourceful and logical human. But as I bumbled through the forest, I found that I was so out of touch with my wolf that I had just as much trouble hunting in human form as I did in wolf form. My four-legged body was loud and uncoordinated at the best of times, and the only thing it really offered me was a layer of fur for the cold nights. I was useless as a wolf and hardly better as a fragile human. And I became aware of two things: my mother would’ve never left if my father had been a true werewolf, and I would certainly die on my own in the wilderness. Then Thorn and Hunter stumbled upon my weak and withering body. After that, it had been an incredible journey of learning to understand my inner wolf and use my various talents.