CHAPTER 58:"The Curse Breaks, the Wolf Rises"~

CHAPTER 58:"The Curse Breaks, the Wolf Rises"~


"I came as swiftly as the news reached my ears," Lord Jaime said, drawing her into a firm embrace.

When they parted, she stepped back, her gaze soft with gratitude. "Thank you for coming, dear friend."

He offered a warm smile, then turned to the Beta and gave a respectful nod.

"I am most grateful you chose to release her rather than subject her to that barbaric and senseless punishment," Lord Jaime said solemnly.

Cedric returned the gesture. "It is my duty to protect the pack in the Alpha’s absence. I am glad I chose rightly."

"Then we must not tarry," Jaime said, casting a glance toward the fading sun. "We must be gone before word travels faster than our wheels can carry us across the border."

He turned to Aria and offered his hand.

"Wait," Cedric interjected, drawing forth a small glass vial. "I also made every effort to persuade the witch to lift the curse laid upon you. This is the result of her spellwork. It is but a small recompense for the many insults and wrongs you have suffered at the hands of this pack."

Aria froze, stunned into silence.

Could it be? That the curse was lifted… and she was, once more, MagdaAria Aimee Greaves?

She took the vial with trembling fingers. "I am deeply indebted to you, Cedric. I shall not forget this."

"Think nothing of it," he replied. "It is what I ought to have done long before now."

"Come," Jaime urged gently. He assisted her into the carriage, and the driver cracked his reins. The horses galloped toward freedom, their wheels casting dust behind them like ghosts fading into twilight.

But scarcely had they crossed the threshold of the great gate when another carriage rolled to a halt.

Lady Scarlet alighted, her heels clicking sharply against the stones.

Cedric awaited her approach.

"The Alpha cannot receive visitors," he said without warmth.

She scoffed but inclined her head in mock respect. "I do not come for the Alpha, but for the Luna."

Silence fell.

"The Luna shall not see you either," he said curtly.

Her lips curled. "Do you now speak on her behalf, Cedric?"

"I do. As Beta, it is my charge to govern in the Alpha’s stead. And I tell you now—turn back. Leave while I still ask politely."

Her eyes narrowed. "My lord, you shall not speak to me in such a tone. I am the Alpha’s bedmate, and I hold every right to stand in this house."

He stared at her with quiet disdain. "Bedmate or not, I command here. You will obey. Guards."

At his word, two soldiers stepped forth, silent but firm in posture.

Scarlet raised a hand in surrender. "There is no need for theatrics, Beta. I shall take my leave."

With a flounce of her gown, she spun around and returned to her carriage. But the fire of fury simmered beneath her poised exterior.

"You wretched fool," she spat, slamming the door behind her. "When I become Luna, I shall not forget this insult."

Yet unease gnawed at her insides. Her fists clenched.

"Why do I feel this restlessness?" she muttered aloud. "Could it be? Has the Beta orchestrated her escape? What hour would one choose for such a scheme? Surely… tonight."

Her eyes widened in sudden realization.

Her handmaiden remained silent, accustomed to her mistress's habit of thinking aloud—a perilous thing to interrupt.

"Slave," Scarlet called, her voice sharp.

The girl bowed her head. "Yes, my lady?"

"Tell the rider—drive at once to the Dark Tower."

\---

“I can scarce believe it, dear friend. You are not Aurora  Voss?”

“As my friend, should you not have known? Do I seem as Aurora  Voss would?” she asked softly.

“I had not heard the girl’s name until the very hour the Alpha announced your union. And, of course, you were ensnared by that wretched witch’s curse, leaving no chance for your true self to surface,” Jaime replied with a faint smile, watching as Aria lowered her gaze to the vial in her hand.

She had already consumed its bitter contents, every last drop, though its acrid taste still lingered on her tongue. Whether it had worked or not, she could not say. She had not even known she was cursed—not truly—until the day she had tried to speak of her past and found her voice seized by pain and blood.

“Well then,” Jaime said, leaning slightly forward, his eyes bright with curiosity. “Shall we test it?”

He folded his hands and smiled. “Come now, dear friend—tell me. Who are you, truly?”

\--

The mage, Aphosius, and Uthred stood in silence, watching as Demetrius tore into the raw meat with primal hunger. Bones cracked beneath his teeth, and the remnants of other carcasses lay strewn across the stone floor, the stench of blood and sinew thick in the air.

“I shall summon someone to cleanse this mess,” Aphosius muttered, his face pale as he turned to depart. Though he was long acquainted with the savage habits of wolves, the sight of such unrestrained feasting still turned his stomach.

Demetrius licked the marrowed bone, glancing toward the cloaked figure at the door. “Who was that?”

“My brother, my Alpha,” Uthred replied, lowering his gaze in deference.

“I was unaware you had a brother, Uthred. And a mage, no less. This is precisely why I oppose wolves breeding outside their own bloodlines. Such unions breed confusion.” He tossed the bone aside. “Now then, speak. What has transpired in my pack during my absence?”

“Much, my Alpha,” Uthred began solemnly. “An impostor has seized your mantle, taken a Luna, and appointed a new Beta.”

Darius’s eyes narrowed. “And it is for that reason you roused me? Because your position was usurped?”

Uthred stammered, taken aback. “N-no, my lord. I awakened you out of loyalty. I feared for the pack… for what it has become without you.”

Demetrius leaned back, voice cold and measured. “I did not ask about the pack’s petty affairs, Uthred. I asked of the pack leaders. Do they still draw breath?”

Uthred fell to one knee, head bowed low. “They do, my Alpha. And they remain as formidable as ever.”

Darius’s jaw tensed, his voice dropping to a growl. “And your so-called Alpha has not yet vanquished them? Has he grown so feeble?”

Uthred lifted his gaze, voice trembling. “He is not my Alpha, my lord. My allegiance has ever been with you.”

A stillness settled in the chamber. Then Demetrius turned his gaze toward the cloaked figure who had remained silent all this while.

“And who is this masked wraith? Does he not speak?”

“My Alpha,” Uthred replied quickly, “he is the mage who summoned the power to restore you. Without him, your resurrection would have failed. He has been… indispensable.”

Demetrius stepped down from his seat, his bare feet soundless against the cold stone. He crossed the chamber slowly, eyes never leaving the cloaked figure.

“A mage with such power,” he murmured. “And if I desired him for myself? If I asked for his fealty?”

Uthred stepped forward, his voice strained. “My lord, he hails from the Witch Clans. He cannot—”

But before he could finish, the cloaked mage fell to one knee, his voice firm and unwavering.

“I, Varian Draeven, pledge my loyalty to you, my lord—and to you alone.”

Demetrius stared down at him for a moment, then a slow, dangerous smile curved his lips.

“Well then,” he said darkly, “it seems the old gods still favour me.”h