Keithia:

The large wolf reared her head, shaggy mane framing her silver eyes. The creature was mystical, unbelievable almost. 

"Shall we go, sister?" Keithia said, gripping the reins tighter. Brushing her dark navy hair back, Keithia settled in the saddle, feeling powerful tendons and muscles coil under the thin saddle. Unlike the thick-headed Capulets, we made sure to have our vessels as comfortable as possible. And it was common knowledge that no matter what you did, the wolf always stayed wild and free, an untamable beast. Power swept through Keithia, fleeting but addictive. Montagues were infinitely better than the Capulets and always had been. No matter how much they denied it. 

Keithia inhaled, frowning slightly at the new scent. It was dark, musty, and made her head spin with pain. It was faint but the scent was prominent. Whatever created it must be powerful. Shifting slightly, Keithia snapped the reins silently and the wolf shot off into the early morning, melding into the fading shadows. The Montague square was deserted, devoid of noise and life. Good. Even though all the residents of the town were distantly related, it didn't command respect. It was like a tier, depending on how much of the werewolf blood the Goddess Lune had granted. There were Crescents, Halves, and Fulls, like Keithia herself. Crescents were gifted a fourth of werewolf blood and so on for Halves and Fulls. The Fulls were part of the Elite court and usually took up the position as the de facto monarchs of the Montague. Keithia's father was one of those men who had so graciously taken the position and was now one of the ruling fathers. 

The forest was smothered with fog as always but it felt... off today. Like a warning. The wolf seemed to sense it too from her wary behavior. Keithia had always ridden this specific wolf and nothing had made it this afraid. Maybe there was something else, Keithia thought as she slowed the anxious creature down. Keithia ran her hand through the rough fur, scratching her scruff as she peered into the darkness. What could it be? She had never felt a sensation such as this and it made her want to run back. But Montagues never ran: they fought and confronted their fear. It was the only way to get rid of the paralysis of fear. 

"Come on, sister. We are Montagues. Whatever is here it will not cause a problem for us." Keithia growled, full of conviction. Confident mask, trembling inside. But Keithia has perfected her cold exterior for years and she wasn't going to let it crack now. The wolf loped around the perimeter, never straying too far from Keithia. Hisses surrounded her and Keithia whipped around, sword slashing the thick, moist air. 

"Fight with pride. I know you're there." Keithia taunted, clutching the silver sword closer. If it was a Capulet then she had nothing to worry about. An ancient bond said that without true reason the clans may not kill and whenever Keithia saw a disgusting Capulet her hands visibly twitched, desperate to snap the vampire's neck. Another sound drew Keithia back to the situation and she crept closer, feeling more power with every step. She was Montague. She was unstoppable. Nothing could defeat her.

A curious odor wafted past her and instinctively, Keithia sniffed the air. The smell grew more potent as Keithia followed. Her feet moved on its own, drawn in by the peculiar smell. She had never smelled anything like it before. Soon the smell had led her to the graveyard, where Orion had been buried. Her heart ripped a little and Keithia cursed. Just when she thought she had sewn herself back together after the death of Orion he had to come and tear it apart once more. She had loved Orion since she had met him in the rose garden. She pricked her finger and had cried silently in the corner, hoping her mother or father wouldn't see. Orion had then pierced his finger and sat next to her, and together they watched as the crimson blood dripped down their tiny fingers. Somewhat gruesome but it was there that Keithia realized her feelings for him. Until the Capulet had come and stolen him, whisked him to a place of fantasy. Keithia cursed at the feelings swirling up inside of her. Orion had a choice: his family, his pack, or a Capulet. And he chose the wrong answer. There was no love for him in her heart anymore. Or so she thought. 

The wolf growled, low in her throat as she nudged the lid of a golden casket. Keithia studied it, reading the images carved into it. There was only one person who had been gifted this casket. And he was supposed to be dead.

Keithia's ire roiled and burned, threatening to overspill. Clearly, this was the work of the Capulet. Keithia spit at the upturned dirt next to it in disgust. Of course this was her doing. A fine black powder coated the coffin and Keithia swiped her finger. She cried out in pain as her index finger began to shrivel, turning a pallid gray-yellow color. She wiped off the remnants of the black powder quickly, backing away from the coffin in terror. Her finger looked just like it had moments ago, before she had touched the granuels. What was it? Inching closer, Keithia smelled it and gasped. It smelled of rot and blood. It smelled of death.

Necromancy. 

A smile carved itself on Keithia's face. A sinister, joyful smile. Once the Montagues learned of the Capulet girl's betrayal, the Montagues would finally have something to scorn the Capulets with. And Keithia was sure that this would scar greater than any silver could. Leaping on her wolf she squeezed her thighs, prompting the animal forward. Soon, in a blur the forest broke and she could see her village, now wide awake and ready for a new day. People ducked out of the way as the wolf plowed through the small roads, paying no heed to the villagers making their way below. Normally Keithia would feel a little guilt for putting her relatives in harm's way but this was too important to risk slowing down for. The things Father would give her when she told him... Keithia looked at the fading moon wistfully.

The Goddess has smiled upon me today. Keithia thought as she dismounted and patted her animal on the flank. It bounded into the pen, eagerly greeting its family. The Montague town was a peaceful, picturesque place, with well-kept stone cottages and cobblestone paths. It was always busy and things were always happening. Especially at night. During the new and full moon solstices, celebration broke out on each street, Crescent or Full. The day of transformation was one of joy, a time where everyone who turned could join their family in the woods and embrace. It was her favorite time, where Keithia could feel like she truly was strong enough the bear the title of Montague. 

Keithia walked briskly into the entrance, breaking off sharply at the sight of one of the senior servants putting some wild daisies in a vase. 

¨Where is my father?¨ Keithia commanded, voice ringing out through the entrance of the room. The servant sighed in frustration and ran a hand through her brown hair.

¨For the last time, Premier Deniz is not your father. Leave or I will have the guards drag you." The servant whipped around the color drained from her face when she saw Keithia snarling with rage at her. In a flash, she gripped the servants chin and jerked her head up, forcing her to meet Keithia's eyes.

"Is that the way you talk to your princess?" She said in a deathly calm voice, low and foreboding. She dug her nails into the soft skin, not hard enough to draw blood.

"I-I'm sor-sorry, your H-Highness. I-" Keithia dug deeper and beads of dark red sprang to her touch. She backhanded the servant across the face and the young girl fell back from the clap.

"Do not give me excuses, girl. And speak properly." Keithia raised her boot but drew it down reluctantly when she saw her brother striding towards her. Kodiak was every bit the crown prince, with his broad frame and the air of power radiating off of him. At the sight of him the servant smoothed her hair back.

"Sister, what are you doing?"

"She talked to me as if I were a commoner. She needs a reminder." Keithia gripped her skirts, leaving little dots of ruby blood behind. 

"Don't waste your time on servants, Kei. You know better than that." Keithia stomped away. She had better things to do anyway. Father didn't have any meetings that she knew of so he must be in his study. The large oak mahogany doors were guarded by two guards, stoic and bare-faced. 

"Is my father here?" Keithia demanded.

"Yes. He is not to be disturbed, your Highness."

Keithia waved the statement away. This couldn't wait. Orion and the girl might be long gone by the time she waited for Father to come out. Keithia knocked rapidly on the door, twitching impatiently.

"Open the doors."

The guards shook their heads slightly. "We must follow your father's orders, your Highness." 

Grumbling under her breath, Keithia kicked the door open and plowed into the room. Father was writing something behind his desk, not paying her any mind. His study was made entirely of the same wood, from the towering bookshelves to the grand furniture. A large window was covered by thin velvet, so Keithia could see the slight silhouette of the trees through the dark green fabric.

"Where have you been, daughter?" Father asked mildly, studying the paper he was writing on.

"I was scouting the woods. I found something of utmost importance. You must listen." Father waved his hand.

"Go on, then. Do not waste my time."

"The Capulet girl has committed necromancy." Father's head shot up and he slammed both hands on the desk. His pot of ink fell and coated the buckskin carpet.

"Where is the proof, Keithia?" Father restrained himself but Keithia could see glimmers of excitement in his dark blue eyes, identical to hers. 

"Orion's casket was open and I could see remnants of black powder. Upon touch it made anything shrivel and die. It was the powder of death." Father paced the room and Keithia gulped. 

"You must show us tonight. I will alert my brothers. If the Capulet girl really has done treason the Capulets will pay for it." He glowered at Keithia. "But if this is a ploy, daughter, consequences will be great."

"I would expect nothing else." Keithia raised her chin and stared her father in the eye. Not with disrespect, but determination. There was a difference, her mother always said. Nodding once, Father swept out of the room. 

"We shall go during the solstice tonight." Father looked back at Keithia briefly. "The moon will show us the way." 

Keithia went back in the study and pushed the curtains back, eyes sweeping over the dense woods. The Capulet girl would pay for taking Orion from his family. They all would.