Chapter 42 : The White Queen

Narcissa's POV "Narcissa, please." Callia hung on me like one of those parasitic vines that choked the mighty redwoods near the Ruby Plateau in the Westerlies. "Just stay! You're not well, we don't have to go home. We could stay here, start anew!" "GET OFF ME!" I bit her hard enough to break the skin, and the other two pulled her back, fearful of me. Good, they should be. For too long had I endured their endless sniveling, weighing me down with their uselessness. I didn't need ANY of them. I adjusted the hem of my new dress—white like the frozen lands of my home, lace flowers elegantly kissing my frame, and the pureness of the fetching A-line silhouette with matching cape—walked barefoot out of Opal Hill. I didn't require shoes; they would only slow me down; my legs—hidden beneath the long tulle skirt—had reverted to their true shape. Lupine and powerful, the white fur matching my look, a true werewolf queen. Had anyone seen a more beautiful woman? Someho