The Last Blue Lycan

The Contest Begins

The Blue Moon was too big to be a moon. It looked like a blue eye opening in the sky, watching.

Kael had cleaned pigeon shit off the Stone King's head for seven years. Tonight he couldn't reach. Thousands of wolves packed courtyard so tight his back touched warriors, his front touched Omega kids. He was in the front line for first time in his life because the Alpha's decree said every male 16-25 must attempt. No Omega exception.

The Stone King knelt in the center, 20 feet tall, black stone wet with moonlight. Dagger in his heart. To everyone else it was a stone dagger. To Kael it pulsed. Blue. Blue. Blue. Louder than drums. Real. Alive. Calling blood he didn't want to have.

On the high platform, Alpha Moros the Second wore his fake dagger on gold chain. Tonight rust showed even under torchlight - brown flakes falling on his red robe. He kept touching it like checking if it still there. Beside him Zara in a white wedding dress she shouldn't wear yet - tight, showing she already thought she was Crown Luna. Behind them High Seer Theron and Elara were on the Seer balcony. White signal cloth in Theron's hand. Archers on four roofs - Kael counted again, twelve, wolfsbane arrows black tipped.

Elara was barefoot again. He could see her feet from here. She hid Seraphine's ice dagger in cloak. Her white streak was not cut today - bright silver under blue moon, everyone whispering. When she found his eyes across crowd, her eyes flashed gold then blue. I'm here.

Drums. Then silence.

"CITIZENS OF BLACK WOLVES!" Moros roared, arms wide. "Twenty years ago, the Moon Goddess herself turned The Blue Lycan demon King to stone! For twenty years no one could pull dagger from his demon heart! Tonight the Blue Moon gives strength! Any male 16-25 touches hilt, pulls with one hand, no claws! Winner becomes Crown Alpha and marries my daughter!"

The Crowd roared. Zara smiled like a queen already, eyes sweeping the crowd then landing on Kael. She mouthed one word: Slave. Pointing at Elara. Reminding Bet.

Kael's fists clenched. Joren, Omega boy next to him, whispered, "Kael, your feet is cold."

Kael looked down. Frost spreading from his boots across stone. He stepped quickly, the frost melted, but Zara saw. Her cruel smile flickered to confusion.

First name called by herald.

"LORD FENRIS BLACK, NEPHEW OF THE ALPHA!"

Fenris jumped to the platform, huge, black wolf tattoo on his neck. Grabbed the dagger hilt with one hand, pulled so hard veins popped. The stone didn't move, the Dagger didn't move.

One minute by the sand clock, and he failed.

Crowd booed. Fenris kicked the Stone King's knee on his way down, making Kael to flinch.

Second. Third. Fourth. Warrior after warrior. All Black Wolves. All pulling with muscle, not blood.

Kael watched their hands. None made the stone to weep. Because weeping needed a Blue Lycan blood. Theron had told Elara, Elara told him at midnight. Moros knew. That's why the archers were there to shoot.

By attempt ten, crowd was restless. Throwing peels.

Moros was sweating. Fake dagger rust spreading to his robe. He shouted up, "Theron! Why does the moon rejects?!"

Theron, pale, holding white cloth like it burned, answered, "Moon... The Moon waits for the true one, Alpha."

Moros didn't like the answer.

Attempt 15. Attempt 18.

Kael's boots frosted again despite him trying to breathe like Elara taught; slow, blood not muscle. Joren pulled his sleeve, "Kael, you ice."

"I'm cold," Kael whispered.

Attempt 20. General Ruk, Moros's war general. Failed. On way down he spat on Stone King's foot, right where Kael scrubbed every night.

Kael stepped forward without thinking half step.

Silence around him. Ruk turned.

Zara saw a chance. She stood from the throne, voice carrying over thousands.

"Look! Omega janitor want to protect his statue boyfriend! You clean his feet, now you want to kiss his feet, half-caste?"

Laughter. Hundreds laughing. Omega kids behind Kael went quiet, scared.

Elara on the balcony gripped the balcony rail so hard gold light leaked then turned blue. Theron grabbed her wrist under his cloak, hissing, "Not now. Not yet."

Zara wasn't done. She walked down the platform steps, wedding dress dragging, straight to Kael in the front line. Guards parted.

She stopped inches from him, beautiful and cruel, smelling like perfume and cruelty.

"You think you get to attempt after real males? You attempt last. You wash my feet before you attempt. To remember place. That was part of the Bet, yes?"

Kael remembered the Bet. If Kael fails, Elara becomes Zara's slave. If he succeeds or doesn't attempt, Zara washes his feet. This was the opposite, humiliation extra.

He should refuse. But refusing before the attempt would mean forfeit and Elara becomes slave anyway.

He knelt. On the courtyard stone, before thousands, last Blue Lycan knelt to wash the bully Princess feet.

Someone brought basin. Water was cold.

Zara lifted her dress, placed bare foot in the water, smirking.

Kael washed. Hands shaking from rage. Blue blood rage he hid for 19 years.

When his hands touched her ankle, something happened neither expected.

Water in the basin flash-froze solid. Crack. Ice.

Zara gasped, yanked her foot back. Her ankle frost-burned blue.

Crowd gasped. Ice? In Blue Moon? No Seer did ice.

Zara stared at her own hands - frost forming on her fingertips too, melting quick.

She looked at Kael, eyes wide and, scared. Whisper only he heard: "What... what did you do to me?"

Kael didn't know either.

On the balcony, Elara saw. Her mouth open. She understood instantly what Kael didn't - Zara was half Blue Lycan. Like her mother Lyanna. The frost was awakening.

Theron saw it too, and closed his eyes. Two more.

Alpha Moros stood, shouting to cover the weird ice, "NEXT! PRINCE JORN! MY SON!"

Prince Jorn, Zara's brother, Moros's true son, jumped, attempted. Failed. Fell hard.

Attempt 25. 27. 30.

Moros was losing control. The Fake dagger now crumbling, rust dust falling visible even to the far crowd. Warriors whispering, "Alpha's dagger rust?"

Moros shouted desperate, "Bring torch! If no one pulls, we BREAK the stone and TAKE the dagger!"

That wasn't the rule. The Contest was pull, not break.

At that shout, Theron on the balcony, whose hands were shaking too much, dropped the white signal cloth by accident.

White cloth fell, floating, landing on the courtyard stone near Kael's knees.

Archers on roofs half drew bows, and thought it was a signal.

Silence. Thousand breaths held. Bows creaking.

Kael looked up at Elara.... is this it?

Elara shook her head violently, hair flying.... no, it was accidental, not yet, don't touch yet.

Theron shouted quick, "Wind! Wind took the cloth! Not a signal! Not a signal!"

Archers lowered the bows slowly.

Zara was still staring at her frosted hands.

Kael picked up the white cloth from the ground,wet with his wash water now icy, and handed it to the guard to return to Theron.

His fingers touched the guard's... the guard yelped, "Cold!"

Kael stepped back into the line. Last in the line now. 16 males left.

Herald called, "NEXT! LORD JAX BLACK!"

Contest continued, but now,the crowd was not cheering. They were whispering about the ice basin, about Zara's hands, about the Alpha's rust dagger, about the Omega who made water freeze.

And Kael's boots... frost no longer melting. Spreading.