Chapter 48 Scapegoat

Chapter 48 Scapegoat
Medea

I clenched my teeth as soon as I saw Augustus, still weakened from the effects of the poison and aphrodisiac, standing in the middle of the hall, with a swarm of reporters behind him.  

That fool!

My body instantly hid behind a massive pillar, as Castiel motioned Michael and other Temple Priests to assist Augustus.  

Yet, he maintained his dignified posture like the Alpha that he was.  And I would’ve fallen for him just like my stupid sister did… if I didn’t know the weaknesses of his heart.  

“I, Augustus Hunt, stand before the eyes of Mother Goddess, to tell my side of things during that night.  Yes, His Eminence and Lady Hestia might’ve made a mistake and consummated their mate bond despite the moral bounds of their positions, but it was because—”

His jaded eyes were painted by raw emotion every time he mentioned the name of my sister.  They became vibrant.  

Alive, even.  

It was unlike the Augustus I’ve controlled for over a year.

It was hard to create the strongest spell to make him bend at the snap of my fingers.  After all, Augustus was the strongest Black Wolf in the kingdom.  

Onyx alone, his wolf, would be enough to kill a hoard of Reds.  

Aside from Kieran White, his half-brother, I couldn’t remember anyone who could rival his strength.  

And yet, for my sister, you’re willing to become nothing but a poor pup.

“Esteemed Alphas,  I don’t think it’s just to punish His Eminence and Lady Hestia just because they helped me.  If anyone’s at fault here, it should be me.  I didn’t take any precautions and ended up causing problems for everyone.  With that, I apologize.  Please punish me as you deem fit—”

The plaster on the pillar I was hiding in crumbled as I curled my fist.  My ears rang, and the last mannikin spell I’ve placed on Augustus was being countered, so that I could almost feel its adverse effects on my body.  

They’re sending the curse back to its sender.  And if I’m not careful enough…

Damned Hestia!

The heels of my shoes echoed as I marched back to Father’s office, each step getting heavier and heavier with anger.  

Since she returned, all of our plans had gone south.  She should’ve just stayed hidden in the middle of that damned forest!

I’ve managed to break her trust with Augustus.  So why is she still going after him and helping him?

What’s with her that she can’t even fucking die? I’m more capable than her!

My father’s scowl grew deeper as I smashed another one of his prized vases against the wall.  Papers resting on his desk fluttered around, as more of his vases ended up shattered on the floor.  

“Are you done?” he asked.  My breath grew deeper and deeper, my nails almost piercing through my palms.  

I grabbed his bottle of cognac and poured it straight into my throat, letting the bittersweet taste of it calm my nerves.  

As the last drop of the liquor hit my lips, I smashed the bottle against his oakwood desk before letting out a bitter laugh.  

“That damned bitch! Why can’t she just stay in the slums I left her in?” 

“Because you don’t know how to do a job right!” my Father snapped, as he hurled his glass ashtray at me.  “I told you to kill her, didn’t I?”

“How am I going to do that, Father? You know that she didn’t want Hestia to die.  She’ll definitely kill us both if we defy her orders!”

Father scoffed before lighting a cigarette.  “Is that why you decided to put your sister in the middle of a scandal, huh?” 

My stomach dropped as Father threw a brown envelope at me.  Its contents scattered on the floor, and I immediately recognized each and every one—

“Because of you, His Highness decided to release those photos.  Because of your incompetence, I’m dragged into this mess!” 

Blood dripped from my forehead as another crystal ashtray smashed against my head.  I didn’t dare speak.  Nor did I even try to fight back.  

I know my Father the best.  He’s calm even when he’s mad.  

But whenever things don’t go his way, he’s like an executioner… ready to kill anyone who would stand in his way.  

“I pleaded with Mischa to pull out these photos.  But he said His Highness is exceptionally pissed, especially after you defied his orders.  So you don’t have the right to march around in my office and smash my things when you’re the one who brought this shit here in the first place!”

My breath hitched as my Father grabbed me by the jaw.  I couldn’t compare to his strength. Especially—

“Medea Locke, I tolerated and cleaned after each and every one of your scandals.  If you ever dare do something again that could jeopardize our plan and offend him, I swear to the Goddess, I’ll personally let my wolf tear you apart.  Do you understand?”

I slowly nodded.  Father harshly let go of my jaw before hitting a long draw from his cigar.  He puffed the smoke out of the window before pushing a small, wooden box to me.  

“Use that.  Mischa dropped that off this morning.  Make sure to use that right this time.”  Father opened the box and pulled a small vial of liquid.  “If you don’t make Augustus loyal to you again, forget about being a Queen.”

“Yes, Father…” 

I grabbed the box, immediately putting it inside my pocket and leaving his office.  The blood from my forehead kept on flowing down, and I could feel dizziness set in.  

If Hestia didn’t come back…

I stared at the vial in my hands.  Mischa had been giving those to us for free, despite them being rare even in a Red market.  

A strong concoction to enhance the effects of the mannikin spell.  

A spell bottle… that could almost cost five years’ worth of salary.  

I’ve kept the previous ones in my cabinet, still hesitating to use them.  

After all, I’m aware of the backlash of the spell if anyone were able to cure the victim.  Without a protection spell, I would’ve died long ago after Castiel began to treat Augustus.  

But now that everything’s about to fall apart, what choice do I have?

I can’t let everything go to waste.  Not after what I had to sacrifice just to be here.  

Not after we struck a deal with the devil.  

Isobel, my handmaiden, immediately greeted me and took my coat as soon as I arrived at our manor.  I tossed her the vial.  

She deeply bowed before me, avoiding my eyes.  

Before she could step away, I grabbed her by the hair.  I pulled it back, forcing her to look into my eyes.  

Isobel squirmed in my hold before tearfully settling down.  I ran my fingers against the scars on her face.  

If she weren’t disfigured, she would’ve looked a lot like someone I hate the most.  

And it makes my blood boil.  

Not today, Medea.  Not today…

“You already know what to do,” I said, before letting her head go.  “No mistakes this time, okay?  Chop chop, my dearest sister.”