The walls of the massive cell seemed to be closing down on King Alaric. He laid on the cool floor, drawing in steady and deep breaths.
He still felt the blood loss from the previous night taking a toll on him. As he laid there, his body struggled to replenish itself and return strength to his bones. His mind however was miles away.
He couldn't stop thinking about the woman he had saved the previous night. His nightly ritual of hunting down night crawlers to keep his bloodlust sated had been interrupted by a shout for help. What he didn't expect was to find her.
Never had he felt the need to kill a crawler just to save someone else. Last night was the first of its kind.
The moment he saw her hurt, all his senses went into overdrive.
He didn't even know her name, yet he had killed for her.
He did know her face though. For many nights and days he had watched her from the shadows. He saw everything. He saw her betrothed. He saw. And when her family got banished to the woods, he saw that too. If anything, the cover of the woods gave him more room to watch her.
King Alaric wished that he knew her name at least. A name to the pretty face that's plagued his mind for weeks.
"Your grace," a gruff voice called from outside the cell. "Alpha Deville has arrived. He requested an audience with you."
"What does he want?" The king snapped, his voice reverberating off the walls of the cell. The air thrummed when he spoke, vibrating with a dark power.
The guard flinched and took a step back, even though there were several solid silver bars between them. "I am not aware, your grace. Shall I send him back?"
"Send him in,"
Deville came rushing in minutes later. He had dark hair slicked back, and eyes that King Alaric knew had a craving for evil. "Greetings, your grace. You look well."
King Alaric propped himself up and turned to Deville. Strands of long dark hair fell over his face, yet his haunting red eyes shone through them. "Yes?"
Deville pursed his lips. His skin crawled, and all he knew was he wanted to be away from here. The massive cell felt suffocating. He steeled himself, reminding himself that as long as his cousin was in human form, he'll be fine.
"We have found a cure to your curse, your grace. A woman. She is the one that'll set you free."
King Alaric didn't reply.
A cure to the curse? A long time ago that statement would have sparked hope in his chest. Right now it did nothing. He had long given up hope for any sort of cure and resigned to his fate instead, waiting for death to claim him.
What a long and tedious wait it has been.
"Your grace?" Deville called, feeling uncomfortable with the prolonged silence. Crimson eyes burned into his head like beams of fire, further aggravating his discomfort.
"A woman?" Kind Alaric said, dark amusement in his tone.
Deville gulped. "Yes."
King Alaric had known women. All of whom met their untimely deaths at his hands. He was done with that. And if his salvation was tied to another woman, he did not want it.
Even his birth mother had turned her face away from him. If she had a way to disown him, he was sure she would have taken it. Each year, her bitterness and resentment towards him grew.
He didn't blame her. Which woman wanted to be tagged mother of a monster?
"Your grace, I understand that you have your reasons for hesitation. But this would be the last time, I swear on my honour."
King Alaric scoffed. Honour indeed.
Deville went on, daring to take a step closer. "Please, let us try and help you. After this, I promise never to bring it up again."
"In blood." King Alaric said. "Swear to me in blood. I have no need for your honour."
Deville bowed, then took out a dagger and splashed it across his palm. Three drops of blood dropped on the ground between them. "I swear on my blood, this will be the last woman I bring to you for a cure."
King Alaric made a cut in his palm with a long claw. His blood mixed with that of Deville's. "You have my permission. Bring her to me."
Deville smiled and bowed. "As you wish, your grace."
As he walked out, King Alaric issued an order to the guards on duty. "Reinforce my restraints. And tighten security around the palace. I feel a rampage coming on."
****
Deville walked out of the cell, whistling a merry tune to himself. Outside the cells, a short stout wolf in a dark cloak waited. Deville took out a pouch of gold coins and threw it at him.
"Did it go well?" The stout wolf asked as he caught the gold. He opened the pouch and his eyes gleamed.
"Yes. Lady Serenya is to be married to the King. Ensure that it gets a ninety percent vote at the Black Council meeting."
The stout wolf grinned. "Of course, Alpha Deville. You can count on me. But….I must ask. Why her? Her reputation isn't the cleanest in Drestmere."
"If she's brave enough to go against a highborn, then she can face the King," Deville replied bluntly.
Brave was a bold word indeed. Stupid, that was more fitting. No one in their right minds would go against a highborn, especially one of beta rank.
"On the side, she may save the King from his dreadful curse,"
The other wolf nodded, although he wasn't convinced. He believed Deville had other thoughts. Deville wasn't known for being the most honest man ever, and not the most honourable also. For him to want Serenya…there must be a second darker reason.
"Of course," he said. For it was better to be in agreement than to go against Alpha Deville. "A ninety percent vote in your favour."
Deville waved him off and turned to leave. Now that it was settled, he had other pressing matters to attend to.
His mother, being one of them.
High Lady Mildred. Deville knew he'd find her in her gardens, having tea and entertaining whatever unlucky lord had fallen into her trap. But today, he found her in her piano room.
"Mother," he greeted with a bow. "I bring news."
She paused her delicate playing and turned to him. Her sharp gray eyes scanned his figure, yet her lovely but stoic face didn't change.
"You've returned from your travels,"
"Yes. And I have also found a cure, well a potential cure for my cousin's curse."
She rose to her feet in a silent whoosh. "What?! Everyone out! Now!"
The servants and maids all hurried out. High Lady Mildred stormed up to Deville, her mask of calm gone and in its place was raging anger.
"You want to ruin everything I've worked for?!" She hissed. "Save your cousin?! This was the perfect chance for you to become king! And you want to save him?!"
"Mother, please have a little more faith in your son," Deville answered with a playful smile. "I am doing this to make your plans even smoother."
She jutted her chin out. "by curing him?"
"Before that, I hired some spies to follow him. Do you know that he saved someone? A woman? Yes, while he was in that….form,"
She tapped her chin and nodded to herself. "That's…interesting,"
"Exactly, mother. That's the reason he bled so much last night, he was wounded or whatever, I don't care."
"And this lady?"
"i found everything about her. Mother, she's the cure. I'll have her married to the king no matter what."