Wolf Shunned: A slow-burn fantasy romance (The Warrior Queen Legacy Book 1) Read online

  Wolf Shunned

  Book One of The Alpha Queen Legacy

  Laurel Night

  Copyright © 2020 by Laurel Night

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  What’s with the Alpha Queen vs Warrior Queen Legacy?

  A note from the author

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Desperate for more?

  Also by Laurel Night

  About the Author

  What’s with the Alpha Queen vs Warrior Queen Legacy?

  I originally titled the series The Alpha Queen Legacy—for obvious reasons. However, I ran into some issues with promotion because some systems dislike the word ‘Alpha’.

  So, for the sake of my sanity I renamed the series to The Warrior Queen Legacy in all official places.

  However-

  It will always be The Alpha Queen Legacy to me. :)

  Love,

  Laurel

  A note from the author

  I feel compelled to say, one more time, that this is a slow-burn fantasy romance. If you love all the delicious tension of budding relationships and want to be practically gagging for it by the time the characters finally get it on, this is your jam.

  If you’re looking for lots of sexy fun and kink that would make your momma blush, please reconsider reading this book. I don’t want to disappoint readers, and you will be disappointed if you just want sex. This is an epic romantic adventure story, and the sex will come… eventually.

  Don’t say you haven’t been warned.

  If you’re still here for it, then please read on!

  Cheers, Laurel

  Chapter 1

  Kaliya

  A single droplet of sweat trailed down the side of my face, working its way from my pale blonde hairline to my clenched jaw. Hands flexed on the hilts of my blunted practice swords, fingers stretching to relieve the pressure and adjust my sweaty grip. Heart pounding, breath slow and even. Across the fighting ring, four male opponents were just collecting themselves from the heap I’d left in my wake. Their combined scent drifted across the ring, sour with frustration. My eyes narrowed in the mid-morning sun, waiting for the last one to regain his feet. They all watched me with trepidation, perhaps hoping I was done with training for the day and they could go home to lick their wounds in peace.

  No such luck.

  “Again,” I growled.

  Emory spoke up behind me, where he remained safely outside the training area. “Kaliya, don’t you think they’ve had enough?” His voice was gentle; suggesting, not commanding. He knew better than to challenge me.

  I ignored him. Raising my swords over my head, I clanged them together and shouted, “AGAIN!”

  A collective sigh rose from the males as they girded themselves for another attack. I brandished my swords at my sides, a feral grin curling my lips as I waited for them to approach. This time they rushed me as one, maybe hoping they would land a blow with so many swords flying at me simultaneously. I swirled through them like a hurricane, striking and dodging, stabbing and weaving. I struck several blows that would have killed the recipient if I wielded my lightning swords. According to the rules of engagement in the training ring, they should have stayed down, but I didn’t mind if they hopped back in the fray; I’d just knock them down again.

  One of the males apparently had enough of this humiliation. With a savage growl he burst from his training clothes, unleashing his wolf in an embarrassing lack of control. At over twice his human size, the mass of mottled brown fur and pearly white teeth was impressive. His ears lay flat on his head and he snarled at me, slaver dribbling from his jaw as we circled each other, my other opponents ignored.

  The rest of the males immediately retreated to safety outside the training ring. They probably assumed I’d shift in response; it wasn’t an unreasonable expectation, given that’s what most wolves would do when faced with such a direct challenge.

  However, I wasn’t in the mood to kill anyone today. My wolf remained firmly in my control.

  She growled in frustration, the sound vibrating in my chest. She rarely got to come out and play, and my refusal to respond to a direct challenge tortured her wild soul. Especially since she’d have this pup bent and submitted—if not broken—in seconds.

  The wolf feinted left, tongue curling and jaws snapping as he tested my reactions. His dark eyes watched me; mine never strayed, steadily holding his gaze as we circled.

  When he realized I would not shift, the wolf grew cocky, charging straight at me. I vaguely heard Emory’s sharp intake of breath as I crouched, leaping and twisting mid-air to land on the massive wolf’s back just behind his head. Flinging my useless weapons to the ground, I wrapped my right arm tightly around his furry throat, using my left to tighten the grip and hold myself in position while he writhed beneath me.

  The wolf was stuck; my legs wrapped around the barrel of his body, and my arm was cutting off his air supply. He attempted to shake me off, bucking and snarling as he ran out of oxygen. A sudden whimper escaped his throat and he collapsed on the ground, struggling to breathe. He whined loudly in surrender, but I held on until I was certain he passed out. When I felt the fur recede signaling his return to human form, I released him and stepped off his naked body. He was small and pathetic once more.

  But luckily for him, still alive.

  I walked away without a backward glance as the rest of the team hopped the wooden fence to check on their fallen comrade. Once they confirmed he was still breathing, the biggest one shouted angrily, “You psycho bitch! You could have killed him!”

  I stooped to grab one of my practice swords, calmly wiping the flat of the blade on my leather pant leg. “He should have thought of that before he shifted during a training session and challenged a stronger wolf. He’s lucky I didn’t kill him.”

  “You’re full of shit,” he snorted. “I bet any of us could take you; you just don’t want anyone to see your freak of a wolf. No wonder you spent so much time learning sword fighting; your wolf just isn’t up for the challenge of a real male. Frigid bitch.”

  I finished collecting and cleaning my second sword, ignoring the angry snarl of my wolf. It wouldn’t help any
one to give in to his goading, I reminded myself. Focusing on my control, I breathed in deeply and resolved to ignore the taunting.

  However, I forgot that we had an audience.

  A pale streak crossed my vision in the taunter's direction. Shit.

  The sound of fist meeting face seemed to echo in the suddenly silent training arena. “You fucking apologize, pup!” Emory shouted.

  Sighing, I turned just in time to see the much stronger man hit Emory with an uppercut so hard his head snapped backward, lean frame flying several feet until his unconscious body landed in the dirt.

  My wolf strained at my control, and I narrowly kept her within the reins as I charged the taunter, spinning behind him and knocking the bully to his knees with a swift kick. Placing one knee on his back, I scissored his neck between my swords. “There is no honor in beating a weaker foe,” I hissed. “But for you, I may make an exception. It seems you have not yet learned your lesson.”

  “He attacked me first!” He choked out. The training swords were blunted, so they didn’t slice his flesh to ribbons. But the pressure of the steel on his neck was still uncomfortable enough to make him rethink his position. He held perfectly still, his scent tainted with the bitter tang of fear.

  “He’s not a challenge to you,” I growled, “As you are well aware. You beat him because you could. That is a sign of weakness and cowardice, not strength. You’re a pathetic excuse for a warrior.” I withdrew my swords and the knee from his back, then gave him a sharp kick that sent him sprawling in the dirt. “Don’t ask for my help again until you know your place.”

  Emory was just stirring when I reached him, shaking dirt and bits of straw from his wavy brown hair. He grinned when I offered him a hand up, then winced. “Ow. He didn’t break my face, did he?” He rose and stretched, his lean frame half a foot taller than my five-foot-seven, before ducking his face closer to mine for inspection. The sweet, untainted scent of chocolate and cinnamon filled my senses, and I breathed him in with relief.

  I lightly ran my fingers along his narrow jaw, pressing gently as I traced the sharp curve below his ear down to his adorably cleft chin and up the other side. “Nope, you’re not broken. It’ll swell up but you’ll be fine in a few hours, thank the Ancients.” I brushed my hands over his wide shoulders, helping to remove the dirt from his fall. “That was stupid, by the way,” I commented mildly. “You know he’s much more dominant than you, even as a pup.”

  Emory shrugged, unapologetically re-rolling his sleeves. “He shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. You’re doing him and his pathetic friends a favor; they’re lucky you didn’t kill them all. If you would not defend yourself, someone had to.” His warm brown eyes met mine with a glint of mischief. “If your wolf wants to teach them a lesson, I could leave for a few minutes. By the time I get the healers and return, she should be about finished.”

  I chuckled. “As tempting as that is, it wouldn’t please Alpha for me to be teaching that kind of lesson to his newest warriors. They’re just young; they’ll learn.”

  Emory wrapped a lean, muscular arm around my shoulders, squeezing lightly. “You’re too kind, Kaliya. If it were me, I’d unleash the beast and give them all an epic beat-down. You’d only have to do it once.”

  “As a male, I’m sure that would work well for you. As a female, I shouldn’t be able to. It’s bad enough that I’ve defeated nearly every male our age and up; flexing on younger wolves is just cruel.”

  Emory was thoughtful as we followed the wooded path back toward the village. “A younger wolf may be your only chance, Kali,” he reminded me softly. He didn’t finish the phrase, but we were both thinking it as we continued in silence.

  A younger wolf may be my only chance to avoid expulsion from the pack. At nineteen, I only had a few more months to find a mate. Wolves had to contribute to the replenishment of society, and our prime pup-bearing years were the younger ones. We didn’t live long happy lives, thanks to the beasts that stalked us at night. Something else we had to thank the Ancients for. Whether we called them night stalkers, wraiths, or just ‘creatures’, they were adept at keeping us constantly on the edge of extinction.

  It was an unfair rule, but a rule nonetheless: if a wolf wasn’t mated by their twentieth birthday, they had no place in the pack. It mostly ensured we didn’t waste time finding a mate, and I only knew of one time they actually enforced it.

  From the way things were going, I might be the second.

  Of course, Emory had the same issue. We were born mere minutes apart, and neither of us had mates. Not that Emory was unattractive, or weak. He was tall, lean yet muscular, and objectively handsome with his sharply angled jaw, warm eyes, and lips made for kissing. He was also incredibly intelligent, if a little awkward at times. His brilliant mind was one of his finer attributes, and that was saying something. If people could choose their own mates, Emory would have been happily settled years ago.

  But humans didn’t choose mates; their wolves did.

  Emory’s issue was that his wolf struggled to find a female submissive enough for him to mate, while mine was the opposite: I had yet to find a male who could force my wolf to submit.

  Mates were chosen when a male issued a mate challenge to a female and submitted her. The stronger the pairing, the stronger and more dominate the pups would be. Therefor every male tried to mate the most dominant female he could handle.

  Fortunately, there was one small nod to the female in this archaic process. The male could force the Mate Challenge, but he couldn’t force the mating. The female had to accept him and seal the pairing. In theory, it could be years before he earned her respect enough to mate, and he just had to wait for it.

  For me, the issue was bigger. I’d already been mate challenged by most of the eligible males in the pack, and my wolf defeated them all. Since I reached mating age, the only eligible male who had yet to challenge me was the pack’s despicable Beta, and I destroyed him thoroughly a few weeks before I turned fifteen. He’d spent the last five years ignoring me completely, clearly bitter about the ass-kicking he’d received as a pup. Since he was younger than me, he still had over a year to find a mate.

  Whereas I was swiftly running out of time.

  My thoughts turned to the upcoming Clan Gathering at the Blackwood Fortress. All five packs in our territory would come together, as they did every five years. It was a festival of sorts, but it served multiple purposes: One was to have a variety of games and tests of battle prowess. Another was to exchange information with all the other packs, find out what the wraiths in their territories had been up to, and discuss any recent issues the rest of the clan should know.

  But the purpose that mattered the most to me was the chance to find a mate outside my pack. The Clan Gathering encouraged the intermingling of pack members to make stronger wolves. There was an entire arena dedicated to official challenges, and they started on the Summer Solstice, longest day of the year. Many held out hope of finding their mate at the event, if for no other reason than the chance to leave their own pack and live somewhere new.

  I suspected Emory was hoping he’d find a submissive female at the Clan Gathering who was closer to his own age. Fifteen was technically mating age, and many females were more submissive when they were young. Less dominant males tended to prey on them to secure a place in the pack, which was partially why Emory was still unmated.

  But they were little more than pups at that age. I couldn’t imagine finding a fifteen-year-old attractive enough to mate, no matter how dominant his wolf could be. Emory felt the same way.

  I was just hoping that there was one wolf among the thousands across our territory that was dominant enough to mate me.

  Surely, there had to be one.

  Chapter 2

  Kaliya

  We were both lost in our own thoughts when we reached the village, and I swept away my melancholy to force a smile for Emory before we parted. “I’ll see you later?”

  He nodded, brown waves of hair flopping
in his eyes before he pushed them back. “Later,” he agreed, grinning.

  With a wink, I grasped the rope ladder and began the climb to my house as Emory continued to his, one tree over.

  Every pack had their own method for defense against the night stalkers. Years ago, ours took to the trees and built a massive network of rope ladders, wooden swing bridges, and tree-hugging houses. They were comfortable enough, if a little crude and simply-designed. The logistics made it impossible to use more modern materials for building, but the trade-off was a double layer of protection—the wraiths weren’t sophisticated enough to organize an attempt to chop down or climb the trees en masse. Plus, they were terrified of fire, so they couldn’t use it against us, either. Occasionally one or two figured out how to climb and killed a few pack members before the guards dispatched them, but overall we enjoyed a much better survival rate than when we lived on the ground—or so I’d been told. I’d lived my entire life among the trees.

  As long as we pulled up the ladders at night and didn’t climb down until dawn, we were protected.