The Beast And The Blessed

Seventy-One: Natalie

Natalie's P.O.V.

It was a mad dash to get ready. Killian had been planning on meeting them at the door without me, telling them I was still sleeping as the sun hadn't risen yet, but it felt rude to do so when we were asking for their help.

I slipped on a dress and pulled my hair up into a neat bun before I felt comfortable being seen by someone so powerful.

It was hard to keep reminding myself that I was allegedly a descendant of the moon goddess and that I carried magic too. The book Joselin had given me was frustrating, to say the least. What was even worse was that Thomas waited several hours, watching me type the book into a translation software and getting confusing results back before he admitted to knowing and being able to read Latin.

He then spent until dinner, reading the book aloud as he translated it for me. The text focused on how to harness your power source and become one with it so you could bend it to your will.

I felt nothing, and I was almost positive that it was a practical joke Joselin was playing on me. I was even second- guessing whether I was the one who had tripped her with the book or not. There hadn't been any other magical incidents as far as I was aware, and a small part of me was hoping to keep it that way until I could at least master my wolf form.

Truth be told, for a queen, I felt like a hot mess. There was still no way I would feel confident to be on the battlefield with Killian and make it out alive. I wasn't even expecting to last five minutes.

I had to keep reminding myself that I had only been here for a couple months, and had my wolf for a week. When I put it into perspective, it didn't seem so bad. But I did have millions of people of all species watching and counting on me. That pressure would drive anyone mad, and I didn't know how Killian did it.

He was a force to be reckoned with, but once we were downstairs, even he seemed on edge. His hand was cold in mine, his body tense as we waited. But we didn't have to wait long.

hood pulled over her head. She had no bags, no belongings

mimic the way that Killian would push down everything and remain void of feeling. It was either nothing

morning air made the atmosphere even more ominous as our guest approached, stopping at

came to points like claws as she lifted her hands and pulled down her hood to reveal a short, jaw-length bob of curly

smoky eye makeup had her looking ready for a runway, but I had the feeling that she was more interested in torturing people than she was posing for them. The way she walked up each step with her head held high, told me that

no more than thirty. She had to have been closer to Killian's age than I was. Even

but I trust that you will be more than satisfactory in taking her place.” Killian kept one hand at his side while the other held mine and his jaw twitched with irritation as she raised her hand toward him.

my mate stop so low as to bow to her even though we

hand go. She dropped it to her side and curled her lip at me, her eyes

She turned back to

led me to believe that she could care less that Melinda, whoever she

his eyes met mine, I could see the fire burning in them. He was angry at the witch but amused by my antics. That much was clear. I wasn't sure if I was going to be praised for the way I handled the situation or

way, I had the feeling that I

waiting and snapped at a young man to show

me seeing red. I wanted to make her bow to us and choke on the blasted ring that she had tried to shove in

My hands shook.

face me