Here's the prologue!


Prologue: Curse of Blood & Moonlight



...No one truly knows how the curse came to be.
Some claim it as a punishment from the gods.
Others said it was the grotesque product of unatural unions between wolves and men.
But no matter the origin story, all who tell the tale agree on some things, the first being that the beasts are bloodthirsty, soulless monsters who kill without discrimination...

Olympia, the land from which our heroes hail, was once a great and prosperous land, known to all its neighbors as the Golden Kingdom.
'Olympia is blessed by the gods!' was what the royal family claimed.
And it would seem that way, what with the plentiful harvests and mild winters.
But seven-hundred-and-fifty years ago, that all changed.
Good King Nikoloas and his wife, the gracious Queen Jocelyn, were celebrating the birth of their children, the twins Lucian and Luna, who were their only heirs, for Nikoloas and Jocelyn were both nearing their fiftieth year. There would be no more children.
To celebrate the birth of the twins, they invited all the royal families of all the neighboring kingdoms to a great ball.
On the eve of the ball, once all the guests had arrived - King Oberon and Queen Titania, of the kingdom of Avalon; Simba and Nala, the leaders of Pride Rock; Artemis and Apollo, the twin rulers of Celestra, just to name a few - King Nikoloas stood up in front of his guests and thanked them for coming.
After Nikoloas had said his piece, Jocelyn took her turn in front of the audience, and thanked the guests as, one by one, they brought forward a gift and layed it down at the foot of the children's crib.
As Artemis and Apollo stepped forward to present their gift, the doors to the great hall flew open with a bang.
Everyone turned to face the doors.
Striding through the entrance as if she owned the place, parting the people as easily as Moses parted the sea, was a woman dressed in rich wolf furs of all shades - brown, black, grey, white and russet. Her hair was the colour of new fallen snow, her skin the colour of full moonlight. 
Her eyes were the colour if old blood, and they shone with a malevolent light.
"Nikoloas," she announced. "Jocelyn. My old friends." She stressed the last word with a hefty amount of sarcasm.
Jocelyn chose not to notice this. "Lupa," she greeted the Wolf Queen. "What brings you here?"
Lupa arched an eyebrow at the gentle Queen.
"Isn't it obvious? I'm here for your children."
Jocelyn smiled at her graciously. "Thank you, Lupa. We welcome your gift."
Lupa threw back her head and laughed out loud. "That is what you think now," she hissed. "But I assure you, Queen of Olympia, you and yours will be cursing this 'gift' for eons to come."
Jocelyn frowned. Her husband drew her closer to his person. "Speak plainly, Queen of Wolves," he growled out. "Tonight is a night of celebration. Gods forbid your poison filled riddles ruin it for my wife and I."
"What care I that you wish tonight to be a night of peace? For I was not invited."
Jocelyn paled. "Lupa, I assure you, we did not mean to offend. Your invitation must have simply been misplaced. But now that you are here, you are more than welcome to stay and enjoy the festivities-"
"SILENCE!" Lupa roared. Her pupils dilated. Madness radiated from her. "I will not let this insult slide! Do you - all of you - truly think that I do not hear what you whisper behind my back? That I do not here the slurs you throw around? You hate me more than you hate Ares! This is the last straw! You must all be taught a lesson." Panting hard, Lupa paused for breath. Turning to face the crib that held the twins. She raised her hands.
"Lupus!" She bellowed out. 
There was a flash of light, like the light of a full moon, and Lupa vanished.
With a sob, Jocelyn flew towards her children, as the audience made up of her guests looked on in horror.
The Queen of Olympia felt relief like no mortal woman had ever felt before when she saw her two children, safe, sound and happy.
Jocelyn felt a small but strong hand grip her shoulder.
She looked up to see the bronze haired, silver-eyed princess of Celestra standing over her, but staring at her children with a scrutinizing gaze that was wise beyond her years.
"My Queen," Artemis said. "Do you know what 'lupus' means?"
"No. I do not."
"Wolf," the princess supplied. "It means 'wolf.'"
Her brother, Apollo, stepped forward, his face unusually grave. "Your children have been cursed," he stated matter-of-factly.
Nikoloas let out a roar. "Cursed! What do you mean?"
The prince of Celestra remained silent.
The King of Olympia growled. "Speak plainly, prince, or I shall cut out you tongue."
"A curse of blood and moonlight," Artemis answered. "But that is all I can see for now."
Artemis turned towards her brother. "Shall we give our gifts now, do you think?" she asked.
Apollo nodded. "Perhaps not the gift we were originally planning to give, but yes."
Artemis placed one hand on Luna's forehead. "I have only enough power for one," she commiserated.
"Just do your best," Apollo murmured.
Artemis closed her eyes. "Exaltátum," she whispered, feeling the power the word held shiver down through her body and out of her fingertips, seeping into the sleeping baby girl, protecting her from the worst of the curse. "I am sorry I cannot save your brother also, little one," Artemis whispered.
Behind her, she could hear her brother explaining to the Olympian monarchs the true nature of the curse.
"Lupa has tried to transform your children into bloodthirsty, immortal beasts. Artemis has saved the girl, but she cannot save the boy. Neither can I, for I do not hold that power. What I can do, however, is cast a small fertility spell upon you so you can conceive again."
"Why must we have another child? If Luna has been saved-"
"Luna's humanity has been saved. The curse will still affect her, but she will retain her soul. She will not become a monster."
"And you need another child, because one born of Olympian blood can break the curse, I fear," Artemis interjected. "If you do conceive again, your line will die out, as will Olympia."
Nikoloas bowed his head. "We accept," he said



...Artemis and Apollo took Lucian and Luna away that night, and the story of what had happened was eventually forgotten over the ages.
The only part that was remembered was what Artemis had said: 'One born of the blood of Olympia is destined to break the curse. She is the cure. All you have to do is wait for her to arrive.'
And so, Olympia waited.
Through each generation, as attacks grew more an more frequent, as the beasts started hunting every night rather than just on full moons, they waited.
But no daughter was born to the royal blood line of Olympia.
At least, not until the present day.
The first Princess of Olympia to be born in 750 years, to be born since Luna.
Princess Annabeth Chase, firstborn princess of Olympia...

[b]So, yeah... Mildly confusing prologue, but it will make more sense as it goes along.
I realised some thing as I was writing this chapter. I said this was going to be a Beauty and The Beast type story (which it is), but this prologue does read more like the beginning of Sleeping Beauty, which is completely coincidental.
I also apologise for any butchering of Greek mythology.

-JosephineSilver, Queen of the Demisaurs, out.

Chapter One: The High Princess

The light of several hundred candles glinted off of the silver of the blade.
The entire court was hushed as the High Princess approached the monster that was chained to the floor at the foot of the King and Queen's thrones.
At that moment, the beast wore the guise of a young girl – no older than thirteen – but all present knew the truth of her nature.
The girl's blue eyes were wide and fearful as the blonde haired beauty approached. Even though the Princess was almost a full two years younger than her, the royal held the upper hand. The blade she held loosely in her hands reeked the sharp scent of silver in the air – silver being the bane of all Lupus – whether they were Damnatorum, or Exaltátum, like her.
The humans did not know that there were two types of Lupus – ones descended from Luna, who retained their humanity, much like their forebear; and ones descended from Lucian, who were damned, beasts in every sense, the exact image of what the humans thought of all of them.
In fact, humans did not know that all Lupus, born or bitten, were descended from their precious royal family. That titbit had been struck from the history books long ago; she had been told when she was only a very small cub.
The golden haired princess watched the wolf-girl in front of her suspiciously. Her black hair hung over her face, partly obscuring her eyes, but the electric blue orbs still were so bright they seemed to glow through strands of hair.
The princess spoke the words she had been taught. "You have been found guilty of the crime of holding the curse of blood and moonlight. Thus I, Regina Annabeth, sentence you to death by silver." As she had been speaking, the princess had been stepping closer to the wolf-girl, and she now raised her blade above her head, preparing to bring it down and slit the beast's throat.
As the silver made contact with her flesh, the blue-eyed wolf-girl screamed.
When it came to the Lupi, you didn't even really need a blade. So long as your weapon was silver, it could be the bluntest object ever, but it would kill almost instantly. Steel, however, no matter how sharp, had next to no effect on the beasts.
Annabeth had been taught all this since she was a very small child, but this was the first Lupus she had ever seen alive.
This Lupus was her first kill.
"Please."
Annabeth faltered. Her arms froze in midair.
The Lupi girl was staring at her, pleading with her eyes. "Please." Her voice was naught but a whisper.
Annabeth turned to her parents, uncertain. King Frederick nodded encouragingly. "Slay the beast, as is your destiny," he intoned.
"I'm not a monster," the girl protested in a broken voice. "I've never killed anyone. I'm good, I swear. Please!"
Annabeth's step mother snorted. Up until then she had been silent, cradling the young Princes, Robert and Matthew, in her arms. "Kill it so I can take your brothers back to their chambers, Filia," she said.
Annabeth pressed the dagger against its throat.
The resulting scream echoed throughout the throne room, loud enough that Annabeth wouldn't have been surprised if it woke up the entire Olympian kingdom.
Where the silver of the dagger met her skin, the wolf-girls flesh seemed to evaporate away, bubbling as if the silver was acid.
Annabeth gulped. The silver dagger was literally eating away the Lupi's flesh.
Suddenly, a crash, loud enough to be heard over the screams.
Annabeth jerked away from the Lupi, reflexively turning towards the sound of smashing windows.
The wolf-girl made a sound that might have been a sob of relief.
A dark shape flew into the room – a wolf, the colour of midnight.
It howled when it saw the girl on the floor, and Annabeth flinched as it spoke in her mind.
Thalia!
The voice was young, and male. The young princess glanced around to see if anyone else had heard the beast speak, but judging from the lack of reaction of the aristocrats gathered, she guessed the answer was not.
The black wolf skittered towards the girl – Thalia – fast, but slipping and skidding on the tiled floor.
If not for the frozen shock of everyone there, the two Lupi would have been killed within seconds.
As it was, they only just made it out. The black wolf gently tossed Thalia atop his back, and all but flew out of there.
At the entrance to the hall, he glanced back, and looked directly at the princess.
Green eyes met grey, and the world froze for Annabeth Chase, High Princess of Olympia.
She didn't notice that guards were moving around her; shouting.
She could only see those eyes...they had seemed so...
...human.
Hunters and Guardians were racing out the doors, but the wolf had vanished.
And Annabeth found herself praying that both Lupi got far, far away.
Ever since that day, that 'chance' encounter, those eyes have haunted the High Princess of Olympia.
And she vowed to herself that she would do anything to see that wolf again.

-X-

MANY YEARS EARLIER, MANY LEAGUES AWAY

Over the sea from Olympia lay another powerful kingdom, the kingdom of Atlantis. This kingdom was ruled by the High King Poseidon and his wife, the fair Amphitrite. Their firstborn, Triton, would one day rule over Atlantis, and, they secretly hoped, Olympia.
The regents of Atlantis had heard the news - the Olympian queen, Athena, had given birth to her first child, a beautiful baby girl by the name of Annabeth.
At once, Poseidon sent Delphin, his lieutenant, to the Olympians, with an offer he felt sure they couldn't refuse.
He offered their daughter Triton's hand, and for a very reasonable dowry.
So, it came as an absolute shock when their refusal arrived.
"Calm down, love," Amphitrite said as she tried to sooth her husband. "There are other princesses."
Poseidon roared. "I will not let this insult stand! This is Athena's work, I am sure of it. Frederick is a reasonable man, he would see the good that would come from this union. Athena has always hated me, and now she seeks revenge in the form of denial!"
"I think it has more to do with that prophecy of theirs, love," Amphitrite said. "You know, the one about the [i]Regina destined to defeat the Lupi and break the curse."
Poseidon snorted. "A girl, the one prophesied to vanquish those monsters? Ridiculous."
Amphitrite sighed as a wail came echoing from down the hall. "Where is that wetnurse?" she mumbled to herself as she wondered down the hall to Triton's nursery.
Poseidon sighed as his wife left the throne room. They must pay for this insult to me and mine, he thought.
Abrubtly, he stood, and all but ran out of the throne room.

-X-

Medea wasn't the girl's real name. Just as Circe wasn't the other's. They were merely names they had taken to hide what they truly were - asylum seekers from Olympia.
So when the door to their shop flew open and the King himself thundered in, they were sure that they had been discovered.
Instead, they learned, the king had come to them for the kind of help only they could offer.
"I need Athena dead," he said.
"But I need it to be an accident," he added.
"A lot of storms this time of year," Medea said.
"Big ones," Circe agreed.
"Can you do it?" Poseidon asked.
"Easily," Circe said.
"But all magic comes with a price," Medea said.
Poseidon snorted. "Name your price."
"We wish not for gold or precious stone," Circe cautioned. "We want something that is a true blow against you."
Medea nodded sagely.
"But why help me if your price is a hindrance against me?"
Medea snorted. "You are a man, therefore, we hate you."
The king blinked. "Well, that seems a little prejudiced."
"Oh, it is," they assured him. "In return for our help, we require two things."
"Name them," Poseidon said stonily.
Circe giggled. "Such bravery," she sighed, as she pretended too swoon.
"Such stupidity," Medea corrected.
"We require, first, a drop of your blood."
Poseidon looked uneasy, and also confused, but he nodded. After all, what harm could they wreak with just one drop?
"Second, we require a woman who currently resides in your dungeons. A woman by the name of Sally Jackson."
Poseidon's eyes darkened. No-one in Atlantis had two names. That was an Olympian trend, and at that moment, he hated Olympia.
"Why should I let a criminal go free?" he growled.
"Because you require our help," Medea said. "And we require hers."
"Now, go and fetch her," Circe ordered. "And, while you're away, see if you can do something about shaking that horribly depressing chip off of your shoulders."
Scowling, the High King left.
Medea leaned into Circe. "Do you think he knows of the true price?" She queried.
Circe laughed throatily. "Of course not! What respectful king knows of blood magic?" Her eyes darkened with mirth. "He'll never know that for the life of the Olympian queen, we took the life of his son."

-X-

Sally Jackson was a simple woman. Not by means of intelligence - for hers far surpassed that of many men - but by way of lifestyle. She preferred the small things, and valued family above all - after all, though she came from a big one, she had precious few living blood kin.
The rest - her parents, siblings, uncles aunts and cousins - had been hunted down by the royal guard of Olympia, for the crime of being Lupi.
Sally gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, the better to hide her elongated canines and glowing eyes with.
Yes, she came from a long line of Lupi, both Light and Dark (she herself was pledged to the side of light), but that was not why she was, at that current moment in time, rotting in an Atlantic gaol cell.
She was in said cell because she was an Olympian.
Prejudices were so incredibly stupid.
A clang from above drew her attention, and she ran her tongue over her teeth, making sure they were all flat, human. She squeezed her eyes shut once again; only opening them once she was sure all evidence of her wolven side had been pushed out of her irises.
Although the Atlantians were not as prejudiced towards her species as the Olympians were, she was still a monster to them.
And, no matter what kingdom you lived in, monsters were killed on sight.
The heavy thud of footsteps reached Sally's ears, and she tensed, bracing her back against the wall, prepared to fight her way out – to the death, if need be.
"Relax, scum," a voice spoke to her in the lilting tones of an Atlantian – the inflections on each word stressed out in all the wrong places.
Sally lifted her gaze, and stared directly into the eyes of Poseidon, King of Atlantis.
________________________________________

Chapter Two: Blood and Bone China

"Filia, stay still, I'm trying to brush your hair." A woman in her mid-thirties scolded the young princess playfully.
Annabeth, at the pure and innocent age of five, did not yet know what the affectionate name everyone at the palace called her by meant yet. She only knew that sitting still was boring, and that her hair seemed fine to her.
"But why must I have my hair brushed?" She whined plaintively.
Her lady-in-waiting stiffened. "Your father is to marry today, Filia," she said in a low tone. "You must look your best."
Annabeth knew the woman was so tense because she was afraid the princess would burst into tears at the mention of her soon-to-be-step-mother. Even though she was only five, she was remarkably intelligent – something her father insisted she got from her mother.
But Annabeth had never known her mother. Athena of Olympia was naught but a faint memory in the back of the young princesses' mind. She was glad her father had found someone, even if she was a bit mean at times.
But Annabeth still didn't want to sit still and get her hair brushed with nothing to entertain her mind in the meantime.
"Tell me a story as you work," she demanded of the ladies' maid imperiously.
The woman gaped at the blonde curls that hung in wild array down the younger girl's back. Regaining her composure after a slight pause, she responded with a muttered, "Of course."
"A scary one," Annabeth insisted further. "Tell me about the Wolven."
Adelie – for that was the maid's name – paled. That subject was forbidden. "I – I can't, Filia."
Annabeth frowned. "You have to obey me. Tell me a story about the wolven!"
Adelie gulped. "Of – of course, m'lady."
Annabeth settled in, the strokes of the brush against her locks soothing when combined with the lilting sing-song tone of Adelie's voice.
"Once upon a time – before you were born, Filia, and when I was only a small infant against my mama's breast – there was a man named Elijah Woods. He was the proprietor of Woods China, the company that made the finest bone china in all the land. So fine, in fact, it soon became of big demand in the houses of royals and aristocrats, not only in Olympia, but in other kingdoms too. Some rulers even braved crossing the Sea of Silver to inspect his works, which were truly flawless – almost works of art, actually."
"But Elijah had a secret. Before he had started his company – only a month or two before, mind – he was attacked by one of the Wolven, a Lupi, and they delivered unto him a fate worse than death, by the standards of all men."
"They bit him, and left him there to turn."
"The night of his first full moon, he had made the workers in his factory stay, to work overtime. A big order had come in from across the sea – a far off kingdom called Narnia – and the order had to be filled with all haste, to catch the ship in less than a week."
"After he shifted once the moon had reached its peak, he killed them all – each and every single one of them. Probably revelled in it too – he was, after all, a monster."
"The next morning, once again in his human form, Elijah panicked. Over thirty men dead – what was he to do?"
"He eventually came up with a plan – one worthy of your mother, the late Queen Athena, though I mean no offence to her, none at all."
"He threw each of his murdered workers bodies into his large kiln, and once the flames had reduced them to nothing but bones, he threw the bones into his clay grinder."
The princess made a horrified sound.
"Yes, princess," Adelie said, her brush stroke slowing. "He turned those men into plates and saucers, teapots and cream jugs. Then he sold them, and they truly were the best bone china that had ever been seen in Olympia. He sent packages of them to the grieving families of his 'missing' workers, acting the part of the concerned employer – but what kind of monster makes a heartbroken mother or wife eat off of the bones of her dead child or spouse?"
"A few months later, what he had done was discovered – a group of Guardians were investigating after reports were made that howling came from the factory on full-moon nights. They found bones in the kiln, and bones dust in the grinder."
"A wolf was beheaded with a silver sword, and at dawn, it melted back into the form of one mister Elijah Woods."
"And from that moment, everyone in the kingdom knew to trust nobody. Your friends, neighbours, spouse – they could all hold the curse of blood and moonlight."
Adelie turned the princesses' face towards her. "They are monsters of the first and highest order, Filia," she said. "And you are the one destined to kill them all."

-X-

PRESENT DAY OLYMPIA
A small town by the name of Fenn

Thalia Grace awakened with a gasp.
A half-a-dozen faces turned towards her questioningly, but she waved away their concern.
It's just a dream, she scolded herself. And dreams aren't real.
"You okay?"
If it had been anyone else, Thalia would have shifted and buried her teeth into their carotid quicker than they could say, 'oh, never mind', but when it was Percy, Thalia never did [i/]mind.
After all, not only was he her cousin, she owed him her life.
"Fine," she answered him, trying to let the truth shine out through her blue eyes, which never worked. Percy was practically psychic – though, she supposed, that was a useful trait for someone who was being groomed to take over as alpha of the Fenn pack.
Percy scowled at her, obviously hearing the lie in her voice, but was so distracted by something he chose not to comment on it. "We've got a problem," he informed her, his eyes darkening, jaw tensing as he worked it.
Unconsciously, Thalia felt herself react to the tension in the air – and behind her, felt others react in much the same way.
[i]Pack. Protect.
"A royal party is heading our way," he growled out, wolf and man colliding in his voice. The adrenalin flooding through the group was affecting him largely as well.
Gasps echoed throughout the entire village, the heightened hearing of the species meaning that almost everyone heard.
Thalia's head swam. Snatches of thoughts unfinished flew through her head at the speed of light – we need to run – how did they find us – pack – protect. "We need to leave," she whispered, feeling sadness drain into her marrow. Fenn was the only home she had ever known – its residents had taken her in once her brother had been taken by the royal guard, after her mother had sunk lower than low, once she had been attacked by the rabid May Castellan. Besides, they were the Fenn pack. Leaving negated the plausibility of that name. "They'll kill us all if we stay."
Percy shook his head, teeth grinding as he clenched his jaw in denial. "Nobody is dying," he snarled. "I'm not letting that blue-blooded little bitch and her posse of idiots tear my family apart."
"But if they've found us out –"
"It's just a royal tour – complete procedure. Princess Annabeth's last chance to see the kingdom before joining the ranks of the Hunt."
Thalia relaxed slightly. "So what do we do?"
"What I need you to do, Thalia, is take the ones too young to control their wolves and hide them in the tunnels." Percy's tone was serious, and his green eyes were dark.
Thalia simply nodded and awaited more orders.
Her cousin sighed and cupped his chin in his hand. "Let us just hope this does not turn into a horrible parody of a novel I read once."
Thalia raised an eyebrow. "Around The World in Eighty Slays?"

-X-

Outside the small town of Fenn, the royal carriage

Annabeth fingered the small silver blade attached to her ankle.
One of the Guardians who had been assigned to her personally – Jason, wasn't that his name? – smiled at her reassuringly.
It stretched the small scar above his lip grotesquely . "All will be well, princess," he said amiably.
"If that is your opinion, you are entitled to it, certainly," Annabeth muttered under her breath. Jason's smile faltered.
"Beg pardon, milady? If I have offended you somehow –"
"Your very presence offends her." Annabeth's best – only – friend leant around the High Princess and glared murderously at the young Hunter. "Take your person somewhere else, immediately."
Instead of meekly bowing, like Annabeth expected him too, like most people did in the face of Lady Piper Mclean, Jason winked and said, "Your wish, m'lady, is my command."
Flustered, Piper leant away from the window. Jason laughed as he rode back up to the procession at the front of the carriage.
"You were flirting with him," Annabeth observed once she was sure Jason was well out of earshot.
Piper shrugged. "He was cute. How far to this Fin town, anyway?"
"Not much longer – we should be there by noon. And it's Fenn, not Fin."
"I can't wait till we're there – much longer in this carriage and the Guardians will have a bloodthirsty beast to deal with – me."

-X-

The small town of Fenn, the house of Red

Percy's face was crinkled in worry. "Well, Red?" he asked softly of one of his oldest friends – in fact, the friend the entire village expected to be his mate, his Luna. "Tell me what you see."
Rachel Elizabeth Dare was a very special Lupi – bitten, not born, like most of those who resided in the Fenn pack, she was Oracle before wolf, before anything else.
Which meant she could see the future. Only snippets, though – unless someone asked her directly for a prophecy, which was almost unheard of in this day and age.
"I'm sorry, Perce," She whispered, wishing she could give the Wolven in front of her – a prince in his own right – better news. "Bloodshed, no matter where I look. No matter which path I try to lead the future down. Bloodshed, everywhere. I can't say when, can't say where, why, how, or who, but it's coming. It's as unavoidable as death, which, as you know, comes eventually for all men."
Percy bowed his head. "Warn your family. Prepare to fight your way out if things get ugly. Don't worry about anyone else, just get yourselves out."
Rachel's inner wolf balked at this. Pack should stick together, it insisted. Running like cowards with tail between legs while rest of pack fight is not our way.
As if he could read her mind, Percy sent a sharp look in her direction that clearly meant one thing, and one thing only – this is an order.
Percy, as future alpha, had certain advantages over the other wolven – like, the power to command obedience, for instance.
Rachel inclined her head slightly. "Yes," she murmured.
A horn trumpeted in the distance.
Percy tensed. "They're here."

-X-

The small town of Fenn, town square

Annabeth's breath was coming fast. She felt as if she was hyperventilating.
Peeking out of the gaps in the carriage windows, which she had drawn closed about a mile back, she saw a crowd of about fifty gathered – the townspeople? Standing in the space between the royal party and the people of Fenn, which she dubbed no-man's-land, was the messenger they had sent ahead of them, to alert the town of their coming.
He was dressed in the fine grey silk and silver filigree of royal livery, and was proudly brandishing an extensive scroll, from which he was reading. Once Annabeth caught the gist of what he was saying, she groaned and fell back against her seat, burying her face in her hands.
Frowning slightly at her friend, Piper leant forward. Gracious...beautiful...chosen...she snorted. "Holy hell, Annabeth, is he reading your titles, or practicing your epitaph?"
Annabeth flung an arm out and struck Piper hard across the stomach.
"Bitch," the other girl said.
A trumpet sounded in a complicated string of notes that sounded more like the garbled noises of dying cats than an actual tune to both girls. "I think that's our cue," Piper crinkled her nose. "How tasteful."
In a single, smooth motion, she flung open the carriage doors, and stepped into the sun light, clearly expecting Annabeth to follow.

-X-

...A girl with curls the colour of golden wheat was sobbing, horrible, ugly sobbing, as she leant over the body of another girl – a girl with dark skin, hair done up in thin, flexible braids.
"Please!" she sobbed out. "Please, someone, help!"
"This is your punishment, Filia," the voice sneered her name out; putting a hateful twist on the pet-name her subjects had chosen for her, their 'chosen, prophesied' saviour.
'Princess of Angels'
Still sobbing, Annabeth looked at the source of the voice.
His furiously burning green eyes drilled into her silvery grey ones. "You killed my loved one, now I'll kill yours," he growled out in a double voice, man and beast mingling as one. "A throat for a throat, princess."
Annabeth screamed as a midnight black wolf lunged at Piper's neck...
________________________________________

Chapter Three: Hatred, Sympathy, and Other Justified Emotions

There once lived a woman called May Castellan.
May lived in a town just outside the skirts of the capital, in a rundown manor house.
She used to have a son, but he's gone now, gone far away - he ran from his mother when he was still only a child.
'He's dead,' most whisper, when they pause to think of the crazy recluse at all.
They shun May, and avoid her at all costs, as if the curse of blood and moonlight ran in her veins.
It didn't, of course - once her child had gone missing, all the usual tests had been placed upon her, and she had passed them all with human colours.
But the curse still had a hold on the poor woman, and it is a bond she will never break free from.

-X-

"Two silver pieces, I'll go no higher," a blonde, tall man told the butcher in front of him.
The butcher considered the cut of meat in front of him. It was large, yes, but riddled with gristle, bone, and marble veins of fat. Two coins of silver was a fair deal.
"I'll take you up on that," he informed the young traveller in front of him, holding out his hand for payment.
The blonde smiled tightly. It stretched the scar across his face grotesquely. "Wrap my purchase first," he said in a voice soft and silky and deadly.
The butcher did as his paying customer asked jovially - pulling sheets of brown paper and lengths of twine from a box underneath the table that was his market stall.
"Here you go, sir," he said as he handed off the beef in exchange for two coins of silver. "Merry part."
The boy inclined his head. "And to you."
He walked away as fast as possible while still seeming casual, just wanting to get out of sight of the butchers stall.
"Those coins were fake," the voice came from behind him. "You ran a con without me; I'm hurt."
Luke turned to face the brown eyes and blonde hair of Tamsin Rinaldi. He raised an eyebrow at her. "How do you know they were fake?"
She just looked at him. "Well, for one, your skin wasn't melting off because of them."
Luke made a sudden jerking motion with his neck, and a hiss wormed its way out his mouth. "Shut up, are you trying to get us killed?"
Tamsin rolled her eyes. "No Guardians, Hunters or Slayers for at least two inns, I checked."
"Is there a reason you left camp?" He asked her tightly.
"The royal party approaches Fenn," she replied in a formal tone. "I thought you'd want to know."
Fenn...that was a small rural town populated mostly by Lupi. "And this interests me why?"
Tamsin's eyes widened in mock surprise as a deeply malicious glint sparked to life in her eyes. "I thought you knew, Luke," she said with mirth. "Your former betrothed, Thalia - she resides in the village of Fenn."

-X-

Percy tried his hardest to ignore his wolf.
It was almost as if there were two people fighting for dominance of his body - normally, he and his inner beast were so in harmony with eachother that they were one and the same.
Not today.
Today, the wolf wanted to leap at the princess that was regally sitting in the carriage, wanted riptearbloodcarnageslaughter; and the human wanted to be logical.
Thalia, who now stood next to him after slipping her way through the crowd, sent him a worried glance and slipped her hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze before relinquishing it back to him once again.
This helped to calm him the slightest bit - wolves were very big on physical communication.
Percy took a breath, and steeled himself.
The first girl out of the carriage was of exotic looking descent, but that was not what sent off murmurs and fearful, outraged looks among the community. No, what did that was the blue feather woven into one of her intricate side braids - the sign of a sympathizer, someone who believed not all Lupi were monsters and should feel free to live among others with equal rights.
Percy had been so distracted by this mark of status that he'd forgotten the carriage held two people, but as the second person stepped out, graceful as a duck on water, he snapped back to attention.
At any moment - the slightest brush of silver against skin - this could deteriorate into a fight till the death. He had to remain alert.
The princesses feet touched ground and stayed there.
Around Percy, people began to kneel.
His teeth snapped together with an audible clack as his jaw clenched.
Oh, hell no. He should've expected it - Annabeth Chase was royalty, unfortunately - but he was no simple minded subject. Half his family was dead because of the blue-blooded little snit. He would not bow to her.
But his mother, the Luna of his pack, shot him a sideways look that made his wolf whine and keel over in submission, and quelled any rebellious thoughts in his mind.
Swallowing back acid - humility was a bitter, burning medicine - Percy sank to his knees, only a fraction of a second later than everyone else.
His mother nodded approvingly.
"Greetings," the voice of Regina Annabeth rang out over the kneeling crowd in rich, dulcet tones.

-X-

Next to her, Piper snorted.
Ignoring her, Annabeth continued. "It is a pleasure to make all of your acquaintances. Please, rise - and go back to whatever it is you were doing before; I do not wish to disturb anyone."
Slowly, the crowd dispersed. Eventually, only a select few remained - two adults, a married couple; the town leaders, maybe? - and two kids around her age, a boy and a girl, both dark haired.
The boy seemed to be protesting adamantly about his remaining there, and the adults exchanged exasperated looks while the girl stood next to the boy, serenely going along with what he said.
"Excuse me?" Piper called out.
The dark haired boys eyes snapped in their direction, and Annabeth had to surpress a shiver.
She could see their colour, even from here - a deep, emerald green - but what really affected her was the menace that radiated off of him in buffeting waves.
Their eyes met, and only one thought was on Annabeth's mind.
If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under.

-X-

The knife was shoved in with jarring force.
Stabbing someone was a strange feeling, she mused. Like trying to poke a stick into an underripe and hard tomato - the skin resists at first, surface tension and whatnot, before finally giving way in a spectacular rush of surprise and disgust; blood and other bodily fluids rushing out and soaking her fingers as they dug into the flesh and inside; trying to push the knife further and deeper in, making sure the damage was irreparable.
Eyes - haunted and wounded - met hers.
"Why?" He choked out through mouthfuls of blood and some alkaline liquid.
She watched the shuddering blade impaled in his gut with great fascination, and shrugged. "Because."
His breath rasped - wet and thick; a death rattle. His eyes met hers one last time. "I trusted you." A bitter laugh. "Should've known better, huh, Tamsin?"
Tamsin smiled prettily. "You trust far too easily, Luke," she confided. "You never stopped to consider which side I fought for, did you? I was Lupi, and that was enough." She shook her head at him mockingly. "Silly boy."
With a great, hacking cough, Luke's lungs gave in.
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Chapter Four: Of Hunters and Wolves

In the first years of the plague known as the curse of blood and moonlight, countless men - and women, and children - died.
The people were panicking, blood-born fear of the unknown kicking in and driving them to extreme lengths.
No one left their houses after sundown. The night belonged to the wolves, and if they caught you out there, you were free game. People started killing eachother, neighbour against neighbor; mothers started drowning their children at bath times.
'Better to die peaceful than bloody,' was the motto of those days.
The country could only live with this paranoia and fear running rampant for so long. Eventually, Olympia fell to wrack and ruin, just as Nikoloas and Jocelyn given birth to their third and last child; a beautiful boy by the name of Remus.
They had named him this in hope of appeasing the wolf queen's anger.
If anything, it served only to stoke an already raging fire.
The attacks grew more frequent; not just on full moon nights anymore. They were focused on the capital, Athens, and more directly, the palace.
For inside those marble and sandstone walls, the young prince lay. If they could kill him, the prophesied princess would never be born. The royal bloodline of Olympia would die out, and the Lupi would but forever. The land would be theirs.
The plan didn't quite work out that way.
The palace, after all, was a fortress. It would take an army of men with battering rams to break in; and no wolf was willing to reveal his or her human form.
But the Lupi had patience, and preternatural gifts. They were stronger and faster than the palace guards - even the females.
When they finally managed to breach the palace gates, howls of jubilation could be heard all over the kingdom. Such was their happiness, their bloodlust grew to incredible levels as they tore their way through legions of guards.
It was complete and utter decimation.
But when the leaders made their way into the nursery, Prince Remus and his parents were long gone.
They'd come back, years later, surrounded by well trained men wielding weapons of lethal silver.
And thus was born the Guild of Hunters, Guardians of the kingdom.

-X-

Piper knew the truth about what Fenn was.
As she made her way over to the group of villagers huddled together she tried to calm her racing heart.
They're not monsters, she told herself sternly. They're not going to eat you, and even if they were inclined to slaughter the entire royal party, you're safe.
Yes, she thought, raising a delicate hand to stroke the royal blue feather that marked her as a sympathizer. I'm safe.
Her family had long been sympathizers. It had started generations ago, with her great-great-great grandparents on her mother’s side.
Forget theatre - this was her bloodlines legacy.
The green eyes of the handsome younger man followed her hand's movement. It was clear in his eyes he knew what the feather meant.
Just as clear was his hate. Not for Piper - his flippant mannerisms as he took her in before transferring his attention to Annabeth seemed to state he couldn't care less about her - but for Annabeth. Which was fair, she supposed. Her friend had killed very many Lupi in her time, and not all were Dark. How many of them had he known?
Annabeth flinched backwards slightly, a wounded and fearful look on her face as her lips parted in shock.
"Relax," Piper whispered, even though she knew that all four of the wolves gathered could more than likely hear her without trouble. "He's probably just pissed about the new tax rate."
Annabeth managed to summon a small, wobbling smile.
The older man and woman there, a married couple, by the looks of it, stepped forward. The two younger ones came forward also, as if tethered to them.
The Alpha and his Luna, Piper inferred. Which made the two teenagers their heirs, she theorized.
"I'm Sally Jackson, miladies," smiled the woman as she dipped into a short curtesy. The dark haired, blue eyed girl followed her example with a scowl on her face. "This is my husband, Paul," a gesture to a tall and thickset man with regal bearing and graying hair, "my niece, Thalia," who smiled like something dead had been shoved under her nose, "and my son - "
"Percy," green eyes interrupted, his gaze, so filled with hate, never once leaving Annabeth. Piper felt a shiver of foreboding run down the length of her spine. "My name is Percy." As he spoke, he tilted his head to one side in a canine way, pride and defiance radiating from him. "Don't expect me to bow to you," he told the princess seriously.
Gasps were heard all around. His cousin paled to a colour akin to milk; his father stiffened, eyes darkening with topaz; his mother's hand flew up to her neck, where she clutched at her pearls. Various people around the town square whom had gone back to their everyday tasks froze, revealing who was Lupi and who wasn't.
Worse by far, however, was the reaction of the Guardians.
Jason snarled, and raised his lance into a ready position. Around him, the rest of the men did the same.
The silver tips of the weapons gleamed wickedly in the noonday sun, but Percy simply tilted his head back, and spread his arms open languidly - an invitation, if Piper had ever seen one.
His eyes darkened with battle-lust.
"Stop!" Piper implored Jason, throwing all of her acting skills into her voice, attempting to make it as sweet and alluring as possible. "He's just a village simpleton, he's not worth it!"
She made her eyes open wide, earnestly.
Jason seemed to hesitate, but he finally nodded and barked out something to the other Guardians, who, with much grumbling, lowered their weapons.
"Okay," Sally said, surveying the group gathered with a certain amount of justified nervousness. "Princess," she addressed Annabeth. "I'm sure Percy here would love to give you a tour."
Percy gave his mother a look. She shrugged innocently in a 'what?' way.
Annabeth seemed uncertain. "Are you quite sure - "
Paul stepped in then, speaking for the first time. "Perseus will behave." It was not a question, or an assumption. Nor was it a guarantee.
It was an order, and Percy clearly didn't like it.
But he bowed his head in acquiescence. "Yes, sir," he murmured soberly. He then turned to Annabeth and held his arm out - a clear invitation; though it seemed to cause him agonizing pain, it appeared Percy would be a gentleman.
Thalia turned to Piper with a resignated sigh. "Guess that leaves us together."

-X-

Heat flared up her body as she arched her spine, pressing herself harder against him.
His hands held her gently but firmly, running up her calves, under her skirt, twisting in layers of petticoats.
"You're beautiful," he whispered huskily as he pressed featherlight kisses up and down her neck; into the hollow of her throat, her chin.
Her eyes rolled into the back of her head slightly as he started walking forwards; her back hit a beam of timber - one of the stable stalls.
Their lips finally met, and it was perfect. Time froze, and it was as if no one else existed.
A crashing noise came from beside her, intruding on her beautifully foggy state of mind. He pulled away from her, and her body cried out from the loss.
He ran a hand through his dark hair, which was already incredibly messy because she had been running her hands through it.
He smiled sheepishly at his cousin, who was standing, mortified, in the centre of a milk puddle - she must've dropped the bucket; that's what made the noise.
Her blue eyes flickered from her cousin, who was awkwardly shift in his weight from foot to foot, and whose shirt was partially undone; to the flustered princess who was frantically trying to compose herself.
"My eyes," Thalia whispered. "My god, my eyes."
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Authors Note: Jello! That is to say, hi. Damn autocorrect.
Some clarification - the make out scene in italics at the end of last chapter - future, guys. Italics at end equals future. As in, hasn't happened yet.
WARNING: The following chapter is rated M. It contains mention of rape, torture, incest, harems, abortion, suicide, genocide and patricide. The opinions and views expressed in the chapter do not represent that of the author.
I sincerely apologize for what is about to happen. It does have some parts that will be key later on, but please don't read if it makes you uncomfortable.
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Chapter Five:[i] Intermission

"Pl - ple – please - "
With a sharp sound, metal gauntlet made contact with delicate skin.
Red bloomed across the girls cheeks as blood rushed to the point of contact. Her head snapped back, and she would have fallen into the dirt if not for the fact that the man had a firm grip on her waist.
One of his friends came up behind her, pressing hard into her back. She stumbled forwards, and her blood turned to ice as she realised she was now trapped between two very drunk, very large men.
"Father, please," she pleaded of the man in front of her, slapping his hands away as they crept under her skirt.
He hit her again. "Hold the bitch down," he said to the man behind her.
Through her daze, she felt her arms being dragged above her head and secured; her skirt being torn open as cool night air hit her legs.
She struggled; it only excited him more.
"Tamsin," he groaned, as an intense pain grew within her stomach. "You look so like your mother."

-X-

Stinging pain and warm wetness travelled down her arm; from the crease of her elbow to her wrist.
She stared at the broken bottle - it's jagged edges and sharp points - with as much cool detachment as she could muster; as her father used it to tear open the flesh of her arms.
She no longer had much sensation in the left one; she couldn't feel her right at all.

-X-

More girls were locked in the barn with her every night. And the more girls that came, the more men that came looking for fun.
Tamsin was never touched by any men except her father - she must of been declared off limits - but she fell asleep each night to the sounds of their screams.

-X-

"You stupid, stupid, bitch," her father hissed out, punctuating each word with a hard blow to her swollen abdomen. "How dare you get pregnant?"
I didn't ask for this, she tried to say, but all that came out was blood.
Her father continued his abuse of her stomach, even after she had slipped into unconsciousness.

-X-

Tamsin stared with dead eyes at the wall across from her as the blonde doctor prodded her midsection with gentle fingers. "What happened to you?" His voice was understanding.
"I fell," she lied flatly. Not caring if he believed her. Not caring much about anything, anymore.
His eyes were shrewd. "You've had a miscarriage," he informed her.
Tamsin didn't react; her father flying into a feigned rage.
Later, she sobbed into her fists. And her father opened himself a bottle of scotch; congratulations for a job well done.

-X-

One of the other girls - Jaquelyn - she'd killed herself.
Tamsin stood over the broken, frail body, her eyes tracing the numerous deep cuts crisscrossing the crease of her elbow.
People who want to be saved cut their wrists, Tamsin had once been told. They bleed out slowly, so they have time to be found.
People who truly want to die? They cut higher, and deeper - there's no saving them then.
Tamsin considered Jaquelyn's nearly severed arm.

-X-

Tap. Tap. Tap.
Tamsin blinked sleep out of her eyes as she pushed herself into a sitting position. She was laying on a pile of hay far away from the rest of the girls - none of them wanted to be near her; they were far too scared of her father.
The tapping, scratching noise was coming from a peeling panel on the far wall.
Tamsin crawled over to it. With minimum effort, she yanked it off the wall.
A great golden wolf stood there, blinking at her with intelligence filled eyes.
Human eyes.
She swallowed a scream when the light of the full moon hit her eyes.
Oh, god. She was going to die.
But, she supposed, as muscles rippled under thick pelt, maybe death wouldn't be so bad.
She welcomed the wolf's fatal embrace with open arms.

-X-

To say she was surprised when her eyes opened was an understatement.
Wasn't she supposed to be dead?
A low chuckle caught her attention.
She jerked upwards, and was astonished at how easy the movement felt. No pain, nothing.
She ripped the bodice of her dress open, and gasped as she saw smooth, perfect skin.
"Fast healing is a benefit of the bite," a voice said.
Tamsin's head jerked in its direction.
The blonde doctor her father had dragged home to look at her injuries smiled at her in a feral way. He looked remarkably less civilized - less human - than he had on that day.
Part of her felt like lunging for his throat, but another part soothed it - a part that insisted sire, alpha.
She lowered her gaze demurely, on instinct.
Blonde hair made a noise of approval. "Good girl. Submission is good. You're at the bottom of the food chain now - it's the only way you'll survive."
She risked a glance at him. He looked at her with eyes of yellow.
"Hello, Tamsin," his voice was musical. "I am Lucian." He tilted his head and considered her. "Are you enjoying your new gift?"
A flash of unrecognisable emotion ran through her.
Gift? Gift? She would be outcast – hunted - a monster.
But she would have power. She would be stronger than any human male - stronger than her father.
Lucian cupped her cheek and smiled at her. "No man will ever touch you without your permission again," he informed her. "In our society, among our kind, females are precious. Cherished. You will be treated as a princess."
Tamsin managed to clear her throat enough to speak. "My father?"
Lucian rose gratefully. "Yours to do with as you please. When you are done, find me waiting at the outskirts of town."
He left, leaving Tamsin lying on the ground, a song singing in her blood.
A song of revenge.

-X-

Tamsin licked thick arterial blood from a man's aorta from her lips - her human lips; she'd shifted back.
He was still alive underneath her. Gasping and choking and drowning in his own blood, but alive.
Tamsin drove clawed fingers into his temples, squeezing with her newly gained preternatural strength until his head cracked open like an egg and his brain spilled out.
"This is my venegance, father," she whispered as she rose.
Around her lay carnage. Other thirty dead men, maybe an equal amount of women. Tamsin stood among their bloody, wasted corpses, and laughed.
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[u]I think I regret this. Not sure yet.
I really am sorry guys. But this was so important to understanding Tamsin as a character and her motives and stuff. And what good is a villain if you can't sympathize for them?
Flame me if you want, guys. For just this one chapter, I will allow it.
Oh my Lord, I hate myself now.
- Jose
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Chapter Six: Argentum Nocte
•

Thalia pitied herself, sure, but not as much as she pitied her cousin.
Sorry, Perce, she tried to communicate to him using body language. If he understood her, he showed no sign of it.
His jaw was clenched so tight his bones threatened to break through skin. Gold and black swirled amid the verdurous green of his irises.
His wolf was fighting him for control of his body.
She winced in sympathy. She'd experienced that herself once or twice before, and the inner turmoil - the pounding headaches and the feeling of absolute disharmony - it was enough to drive one mad.
Percy was strong and smart; he'd be able to stay in control and dominate his animal side. Thalia just hoped the princess wasn't expecting him to talk on their little tour.
The sympathizer girl – Piper - tapped Thalia on the forearm with a gentle, barely-there touch.
Thalia surpressed a snort. This girl had spirit, sure; she'd proven that by stopping the guards from attacking her hot-headed cousin - but she was weak.
"Are you taking me on this tour, or what?"
Thalia nodded her affirmative. "Walk with me, sympathizer," she said.
Piper winced and cast a furtive look in the direction of the guardians.
"Relax, sympathizer," Thalia told her. "I'm not stupid; they can't hear us."
Piper screwed up her face. "I have a name, you know."
"I'm sure you do," Thalia said calmly "I'm also sure that you have about a thousand titles to go with it. What are you? A Lady, a Ducchess, a Countess?"
Her derisive tone seemed to raise Piper's hackles. "Lady Piper McLean, of the Tenth Noble House of Olympia," she answered in a steely tone.
"A pretentious, rich snob," Thalia corrected, "who thinks she is better than most people, but especially my kind of people, because we're 'half-animal'."
Piper pouted slightly in a hurt way. "I never said that."
The blue-eyed wolf girl shrugged in a careless way. "All sympathizers - whether or not they are of noble birth - think in the same way. They don't seek equality for the Lupi, for all their claims. They seek recognition that they are better by lording it over us."
Piper winced then sighed. "How about you just give me that tour now?" She suggested, extending an olive branch.
Thalia tilted her head. "Sure," she nodded. "I think I'll take you to the place most people go this time of day."
She grinned at the noble, letting her wolf side shine through for just a second - flashing fang and blinking golden eyes balefully.
Her grin widened as her Other side sensed the fear coming off of Piper in palpable waves.

-X-

Piper was not going to scream. She was not going to run.
Most importantly of all, she was not going to ask a guardian to accompany her to wherever it was Thalia was taking her.
As she watched, the green-eyed, handsome one led Annabeth in the opposite direction of her and Thalia - to the stables, from the looks of it.
She snorted. Typical. Annabeth and her horses.
Thalia's gaze followed hers. "Percy likes horses," she said. "He has a certain...affinity, for them."
So, his name was Percy. And he and Annabeth apparently had something in common.
Maybe they would get along.
Then again, she supposed, as Annabeth yanked her arms from Percy's and began gesticulating wildly at him. Maybe not.
"Are you coming, or not?" Thalia was impatient, her aquiline features pinched.
"Yeah," Piper said. "I'm just wondering which one of them will succeed in killing the other first."
The glance Thalia sent Percy and Annabeth's way was perfunctory. "Ten pieces of gold on the bitch," she said casually, eyes glinting with malevolence.
Piper felt her shoulders tighten at the slur against her friend, but forced no other reaction to show. "Shouldn't you be betting on your cousin's side?"
Thalia snorted and began making her way down one of the streets of hard pressed dirt - no marble here, not like Athens - and answered with. "Percy isn't stupid. If he kills the princess, we all die. He's enough of a self-sacrificing martyr that he won't risk us."
Piper didn't pretend not to notice Thalia's use of the archaic 'royal we'.
"Packs are connected," Thalia answered her unspoken question. "We're closer than most people ever dream of. It sometimes reflects in our actions and words." She paused and turned back to Piper. "We're here."
Piper looked at the building they had stopped in front of. It was made of roughly hewn stone and timbers. She walked forwards and pushed the plain door open.
It was lighter than it looked. It swung into the stone wall with an earsplitting bang.
"Careful!" Thalia chastised her. "That door is mahogany!"
Piper raised both shoulders in a 'sorry' sort of way. Before stepping into the dimly lit tavern, from which thick woodsmoke and warmth was buffeting, she craned her neck up to get a good look at the sign.
Silver Midnight, it read in Latin – Argentum Nocte.
"Don't let the name fool you," Thalia's voice was filled with mirth. "It doesn't stay open past ten, and you won't find a single molecule of silver matter inside. We can't risk discovery if the publicans come rolling into town." She gestured inside. "Are you coming in? Meridie will be pissed if we keep the door open."
As if on cue, a loud, brassy voice bellowed from inside: "Shut the damn door, you eejits!"
Piper stepped in quickly. As Thalia came entered as well and closed the door behind them, Piper turned to face those that sat in the Inn.
Every iris in the room flickered with golden light as they took in the blue feather braided into her hair.
Piper gulped. Her muscles tensed in preparation to bolt.
Thalia snorted from behind her, and gave her what was probably supposed to be a gentle shove forward.
"Be nice to the sympathizer, guys," she said, as Piper rubbed her now aching back. "She's on 'our side.'" Sarcastic finger quotes for the last two words.
Attempting to break the ice slightly, Piper waved. "Hi," she said.
A younger girl, around fifteen, with blonde hair and green eyes - she wore an apron; she must've been a barmaid - steppe out from the shadows of two identical looking guys.
They hissed and tried to pull her back behind them, but she shook them off. The three of them stared at Piper - the menace of the men and the curiosity of the girl rolling off in waves - with wide eyes.
"So you're really a sympathizer?" The girl's eyes traced over the blue feather. "I've never seen one before." The tone of her voice suggested that seeing Piper in the flesh was the equivalent of seeing a unicorn.
"We don't normally flash the feather in public," she said. "But I thought your town special."
The atmosphere warmed almost instantly.
A dark skinned woman from behind the bar grinned at her. Silver chains wrapped around her throat glinted in the candlelight. "I'm Meridie," she said in the same brassy voice that had berated Piper and Thalia earlier. "Welcome to Fenn."
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