Read Little Red (Not Quite the Fairy Tale #5) for Free Online Page B

him pause. If he saw her again?
    “I’ll speak to her now, as long as she’s awake.”
    The Queen was shaking her head, before delivering a blow that hit him harder than he would have thought it possible.
“They left before sunrise, dear.”  
     
     

 
    Chapter Seven
    Myths
     
    “A white wolf, you said?”
    “I tell you I’ve been ambushed by a pack of feral shape shifting wolves who killed all of your men and you’re focusing on that bit?”
    On the other end of the phone, Aiden asked him to wait a minute and popped him on hold. Unbelievable.
    After listening to some bubbly pop song that made Aiden lose a few manly points, he was back on the line.
    “Sorry, I had to check something. Cook did speak about white wolves, before... Chase, wolves take the shade of either of their parents and there are practically no white ones, these days; the genome has been overriden by dominant colors.”
    “I’m quite certain of what I saw Aiden. She’s as white as chalk.”
    “I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m just saying that according to Cook, there’s only one kind of wolf who can be born white: the Vermeilles.”
    Yeah. Because that made sense.
    Aiden had woken up with a headache that was worsening every time he spoke to anyone.
    “Could you please, please explain in very simple, straightforward terms? And who’s Cook, by the way?”
    “My cook. His name is Rémond Francis d’Alisto, and he’s not gay. You can’t exactly blame him for going by Cook.”
    Good point.
    “And the Vermeilles are a very, very old family, dating right back to the Old Kingdom. If history holds any truth, they were the first wolves, descendent from Fenrir – a god. Vermeille means red – blood red – in the old Jereenan language. According to the legend, they ruled Jereena back in the days; that’s why our emblem is a wolf. They gave their blood to nobles who pleased them, sharing the gift of shape shifting. They were good rulers all around – then, of course, the last of their Kings was the black sheep of the linage. He despised and oppressed regular humans. They turned on him and chased him to the forest, along with every shifter out there. That’s common knowledge to any Jereenan kid – we learn it in class. But the Vermeilles were a myth, as far as I was concerned; at least, until Cook told me he knew two.”
    “You’re saying the wolves are Jereenan nobles?”
    Chase had already accepted that nothing made sense in the world, but it was getting worse and worse.
    “Yeah – and if you think about it from their perspective, I guess I get it. It’s their land – the deeds they hold would probably supersede any proof of ownership my family and I can come up with. We usurped their place. Father and I wish we’d known that. A discussion might have gone a long way.”
    As a Prince himself, Chase could put himself in Aiden’s shoes and he didn’t envy him.
    Royalty was a duty, a blessing, but first of all, it was a birthright. The most deserving person on Gaia could achieve everything under the moon – it still wouldn’t make him a King. The one thing that mattered was the blood in their veins. It was stupid and unfair, thinking of it, but it was a reality they were proud of. Their ancestors had all meant something.
    The Hunters had been given their lands after service rendered to the Eastlian crown. Over the course of the following centuries, they bought more territory around their principality, until it was large and important enough to appeal for its independency. Chase knew his place was most definitely his . He could only imagine what was passing through Aiden’s mind.
    “You know it doesn’t matter, right?” he asked. “Most kingdoms of Europa have changed hands at one point or another – we’ve all fought against each other and redefined our borders. There’s been at least a handful of civil wars everywhere.”
    “Perhaps, but how many royals are banished to their own forest?” he replied, quite