TO TAME THE BRUTAL LYCAN BEAST-Chapter 21: THE HIGH CONCUBINES

VALORIA WILDEROSE

"High Concubine Yara! We—we weren’t expecting you." Her once-delightful gaze turns to shock, terror flickering in her eyes as she stares at this new woman with deep brown skin that glows like polished bronze.

"And I wasn’t expecting to stumble across a peculiar sight, Ivana." Her voice carries enough intimidation and elegance without needing to be raised.

I try to see her face, blinded by the bright sun burning into my eyes. Who is this woman?

"Tell me, do you usually use the maids assigned to you to do all your dirty work, including this?"

"It’s not what it looks like. I can explain!" My inviter—who I now know as Ivana—defends herself frantically, coming undone under a simple question.

"And you will. It might not be a well-respected rule, but outright violence against another concubine is an offense in the king’s court. We will talk about your punishment later."

Silence follows, no one daring to argue with her, the issue settled.

In an instant, I feel myself lifted from the ground, engulfed in warm hands and a sweet, flowery scent of roses.

I try again to see her face, but I’ve held on too long; my hold on consciousness is gone, and the world fades to black.

My body hurts. It’s the first thing I feel after waking from another nightmare.

The pain echoes through every part of me, heavy like bricks on my muscles, but I feel compelled to fight through the darkness and open my eyes.

"Calliope, she’s waking up!"

"Give her some space! She needs fresh air."

Voices mumble around me, making it impossible to go back to sleep, even if I want to.

"She looks like she needs more than fresh air."

"Shhh!"

I force my eyes open slowly, staring at a blurry white ceiling for a while. A head suddenly pokes into my line of sight as my vision clears.

"Calliope?" My voice sounds hoarser than ever, my throat feeling as if it’s been sawed with sandpaper.

I cough violently, awakening more pain sleeping in hidden corners of my body.

"Take some water," she says, helping me sit up slowly, with more pillows placed beneath my head.

She brings a glass of water and carefully feeds it to me. It’s like liquid relief sliding down my throat, and I swallow too fast, finishing all of it.

"Thank the Goddess you’re okay," she says, setting the glass aside, looking at me with worry and relief all at once. A subtle hint of anger glints in her gentle eyes as well. "What did we talk about? You not getting into trouble again?"

Ah yes, our last conversation didn’t age very well.

"It’s not like I was asking for it..." I joke, trying to sound lighthearted, though my heart aches almost as much as my body.

I avoid her eyes, suddenly aware that the layout of the room is completely different from mine.

"Where am I?" I croak, looking around, taking in the beautiful, large space meant to be a bedroom, with expensive furniture and decorations, painted a milky white.

"We’re in my room," she confesses.

I sit up suddenly from shock, only to be crushed by a pounding headache that humbles me too fast.

Everything really hurts, but it’s not something I can’t endure—or haven’t endured—through the past twenty-two years of my life, and more in hell.

"Valoria, this is Yara and Elodie—the friends I spoke of last time," she points toward the other two women in the background I now notice and recognize.

I have seen them before: the two girls who had stayed by the king’s side at every official gathering, along with Calliope—the two other deathly gorgeous women who could topple nations.

The one at the farthest end, sitting with a scowl on her face, I remember more specifically. She was the one who saved me from Ivana.

Without the sun in my eyes, I can see her more carefully, basking in her overwhelming beauty.

Her deep brown eyes shine like ebony, contrasting with the clear whites of her corneas. Her face is carefully sculpted and elegant, like her tall, model-like body and aura.

And then there’s her hair—a vibrant, wild expanse of thick black, exploding from her head with gold and bead adornments.

I’m speechless, as the first night I met Calliope, staring like a fool.

"You were right—she’d be pretty if she weren’t so malnourished and bony-looking," the other girl, Elodie, watches me with unhinged interest.

She’s just as alluring.

Unlike Calliope and Yara, who are dripping with femininity—in Calliope’s case, a gentle, deer-like beauty, calming like flowing waters, or Yara’s, overwhelming, powerful, and provocative, searing like bright red flames—hers is more adorable and mischievous.

With massive red curly hair cascading down to the top of her waist, freckled cheeks, and piercing pale green eyes that seem to stare right into one’s soul, she stands out immediately.

She’s the smallest in size compared to the other two, with a less voluptuous body—a flat chest and narrow hips with their own subtle allure.

Calliope sighs.

"Forgive Elodie. She doesn’t have a filter, ever."

I’m the least bit bothered by what she’s said, compared to being in all three of their midst like this—lying down on the bed while they’re forced to sit and watch me.

"Concubine Yara and Elodie," I bow deeply while sitting up, feeling a sting in my back.

"Your wounds, Valoria!" Calliope chides me again, reminding me of the injuries that haven’t healed—the same ones she probably had to re-stitch while I was unconscious.

"You don’t need to bow like that."

"She needs to, when she’s greeting people of higher rank for the first time at least," Yara grunts with irritation.

"She’s ill!"

"Only because she couldn’t remain in her place and had to draw unwanted attention her way. She was asking for it with that stunt she pulled that day at breakfast. What idiot denies the King what he wants for their own pride?!"

"Yara!"

She’s suddenly on her feet, ignoring Calliope’s chiding, her expression disinterested.

"Fix her up and send her away. There’s no good in keeping her here longer than she needs to be. We don’t want to get roped into more rumors about favoring her, too. I don’t need more headaches dealing with the mess she’s caused."

With that, she storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The loud thud echoes, and the room remains silent for a few seconds even after she’s gone.

"That’s our Yara—hot-headed and bad-mouthed as ever," Elodie comments, the least bit bothered or concerned, contrary to the tired look on Calliope’s face.

"I’m sorry, Valoria. Yara is really sweet, just... she means well." She tries to console me, guessing her blatant dislike of me would be offensive.

But strangely, it’s not. Compared to people who hide their true intentions and hurt me for no justifiable reason, I find her truthful honesty... refreshing.

And she’s right.

"I alr-ready h-have a red m-mark on my foreh-head. I think it’s b-best I st-stay aw-way from the spot-light for a while."

She watches me with a conflicted gaze, knowing it’s true in the end.

She can’t protect me from this—not with Azrael fixated on making my life a living hell and breaking me into pieces. And from the look on her face, she knows it too.

"Unlike Yara, I like you. I find your low sense of self-worth and desire to sacrifice yourself for some false sense of peace and justice... refreshing," Elodie blurts out with a mischievous smile that takes me off guard.

Calliope sighs, glaring at Elodie, who chuckles by her side, completely lacking social awareness.

"I get what you mean," Calliope says, looking at me with a softer gaze. "But I’m still sorry."

"T-Thank you. It m-means a lot."

Thankfully, she doesn’t push further, instead lending me some old clothes of hers to put on and letting me leave.

It’s a very chilling and quiet walk back to my room after that, fending off the countless glares and stares thrown my way from everyone I pass.

All of it confirms my eventual end in the palace... not unless I have a say in it.