Chapter 90 Untitled Chapter
LYON
After Lyon left the king’s quarters, he vowed silently not to have anything to do with him anymore. From this moment on, he no longer had a father.
As he walked farther away from the palace, one thought solidified in his mind. He was going to find Rina and bring her back.
The idea took root in his mind, earning his beast approval. He knew this was the right thing to do and no one could turn him from it.
But first he needed to see someone —perhaps the only person that could help him.
The wise woman.
He only hoped she would be in today. Because of how busy the palace would be today, she could have other things that need her attention more.
As he approached her cottage, the hairs on the back of his neck raised and he suddenly got the sense that he was being watched.
He looked up slowly and his eyes homed in on the black bird that perched on one of the trees surrounding the healer’s area.
Its black, beady eyes watched Lyon unblinkingly and he didn't know why but something about it seemed unnatural, eerie even.
And familiar. Very familiar. But he just couldn't place where he had seen it before.
As quickly as it had come, the bird flew off again, disappearing beneath the canopy of trees at the edge of the woods.
Lyon frowned but shrugged it off and entered into the seer’s cottage. The cottage was sparsely furnished with herbs and poultices assigned in wooden shelves taking up the majority of the space.
A cot lay to the side where the healer could attend to her patients, though there was no one at present.
This was exactly the room where the witch, Tabitha’s suicide had taken place. The place had been scrubbed from floor to ceiling, but Lyon fancied that if he inhaled deeper he could still smell the blood, taste the fear.
“Is anyone here?” He called out, the sound echoing in the empty space.
He was so used to seeing the seer whenever he wanted her, he couldn’t fathom that she wouldn’t be here when he needed her the most.
Just then a side door opened and she appeared, as always in her worn out cloak and a wooden staff by her side.
The wise woman could have had a better life, she had been offered quarters in the main palace with clothes and jewels more than she could think but she had refused all, choosing to remain here, doing what she loved best. Healing people.
And he admired her for it. Standing up for her passion. Not everyone could do that.
“Ah, my prince,” she said as soon as she saw him. “I had a feeling you would be coming here.”
Lyon grinned. Of course she knew but he quickly sobered up.
“If you knew that, then perhaps you also know why I’m here.”
The seer walked to her shelf and stretched up to get a vial but her fingers couldn't quite reach it.
“Allow me.”
Lyon reached up and grabbed the vial she wanted, handing it to her.
She beamed at him. “Thank you, son.”
Then she carried the vial and the fresh herbs she had brought into a wooden mortar that was beside the wall.
Dumping the contents into the mortar, she turned to him with a gleam in her eyes.
“Would you mind helping an old woman…?”
Not in the mood for this but having no choice, Lyon curbed his frustration and grabbed the pestle and started pounding.
With his werewolf strength, he pounded until he had grounded it into a fine pulp.
“That’s a fine texture, prince Lyon. I couldn’t have made it better myself,” she praised as she grabbed the gooey stuff and put it into a pot steaming at one corner.
Before Lyon could respond, she continued, “and I know why you’re here, it’s because of your mate, Rina, isn’t it?”
Pleased that they were now talking about the real thing, he confirmed, “Yes.”
“And I take it, whoever that is in the palace isn’t the real Rina, is she?”
“Yes. She’s Rina’s…” he hesitated, wondering if he could tell her Rina’s real identity but she beat him to the punch.
“Hybrid. And now she's taken over your mate's body, posing as your mate when she's really not?”
Lyon blinked, as always cut off guard by just how much the seer seemed to know. “That’s about it, yeah but there’s one major problem. Because of her hybrid forcefully taking control of her body, Rina was taken to the spiritual realm and now she’s stuck there.”
The healer rinsed her hands and turned to look him in the eyes. “And what is it that you want me to do for you, prince Lyon?”
Though by the look of her, she already knew.
His jaw clenched. “I want you to help me to get her back .”
She regarded him gravely for a moment before turning away again. “You know very well that that is not possible. No living being can enter into the spiritual realm.”
“Rina did it.”
She eyed him. “I don’t think you know how powerful your mate is. She’s not like the rest of us. If it had been anyone else, they would have been dead by now.”
Lyon stepped forward, his muscles bunching up. “I can’t leave her there all alone,” he says, his voice raw. “If you won’t help me, I’ll go somewhere else but I won’t stop, not until I find her.”
As the prince made to turn away, her voice came again stopping him before he could reach the door.
“What you’re asking for, going into the spiritual realm, it’s dangerous, do you know that?”
“Yes and I don’t care.”
“Fine,” she sighed, “on your head be it.”
“That means you’ll help me?” Lyon asked, his eyes wide and hopeful.
“It means exactly that,” she said, shaking her head wearily as if she disapproved but when she turned away to stir the contents in the pot, a satisfied smile curved her lips.
“Let me tell you a story.”