Chapter 130

Chapter 130
Lucian's POV

I paced anxiously as Azazel chanted magic under her breath. It had been over an hour of nonstop chanting, and when I stopped to look at Agnes, she had not changed at all. Her appearance was still the same. Edgar looked anxious, just as I did, and he appeared to be even more frustrated than I was.

“What’s the point of all this?” Edgar said, his voice laced with annoyance. “Not a single hair on her head has been transformed.”

Azazel hissed under her breath, irritated by Edgar’s interruption of her spell. “If you two would just shut up!” she snapped at us, continuing her chanting without addressing our concerns.

Edgar and I exchanged a look. I motioned for him to follow me out of the room. Perhaps by the time we returned, something about Agnes would be different—different enough that it would be impossible for us to recognize her. If Freya was in cahoots with the Rogue King and appeared in front of him alongside a prospective bride, she would recognize Agnes immediately. Her scent would have to be transformed as well; Freya knew Agnes’s scent. Everything had to be meticulous and perfect so there would be no suspicions at all.
There was a part of me that was beginning to doubt this would even work. While I tried to keep that to myself, I could not help but wonder.

Once we were out of earshot of Azazel and Agnes, Edgar commented, “I don’t know about this, Lucian.”

I looked him in the eye and raised an eyebrow, considering he had been the one to suggest it in the first place.

“I know, I know—it’s crazy,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair like a comb. “I suggested this, but I don’t know if I can trust Azazel so much anymore.”

I squinted at him. “What do you mean, Edgar?”

“It’s just... I think that I just have this feeling, Alpha Lucian.”

I could not put it into words, but I suspected there was a lot more he was not telling me. “What can you not put into words?”

“Azazel. Does she strike you as familiar in any way?”

I frowned. “How would she strike me as familiar? I knew her only as a witch who lived in my pack because I tolerated her so long as she did no harm. I don’t understand. What are you trying to say, Edgar? Did you know her from somewhere before? Are you telling me she’s not who she says she is?”

Edgar sighed. “It’s just... for some reason, I cannot help but think I’ve seen her somewhere—that we’ve had some close relation.”

My frown deepened. “And why would that be a problem?”

“Because... because... I don’t know. I guess I’m just paranoid. It’s probably nothing. Sorry to bother you.”

Edgar began walking away, but I followed closely after him and tapped his shoulder. He was forced to stop and look at me.

“I do not want you to ever think that you’re paranoid, Edgar,” I said firmly. “Your fears are valid, and if you think something is wrong, that is enough to give me concern.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” he said.

“If you’re worried Azazel isn’t a powerful witch, though, you might be wrong about that,” I added, my eyes widening as I looked past his shoulder.

Standing beside Azazel was a woman I had never set eyes on in my life. She was tall, with pink, sleek hair that dangled right to her knees. It looked so silky that I felt as if I ran my hands through it, I might not even feel it at all. She had a small, delicate face that contrasted with her tall frame, making her look ethereal and breathtakingly beautiful. Standing on her tiptoes, she bore two soft pink wings behind her back.

I stared at Azazel. What the hell had she done to Agnes?

Azazel was beaming with a proud smile that seemed to stretch across her entire face. “Here,” she declared. “With this, the Rogue King will never suspect that you are trying to set him up. He will not even recognize that she is a werewolf at all. Her appearance, her smell, her smile—every single thing has been transformed.”

“And what will be her story?” I asked, staring at Agnes intently, trying to decipher if there was anything about her current look that suggested her true identity.

“She will appear in front of the Rogue King as a distressed creature,” Azazel explained. “She will inform him of a disaster that befell her kind, and the Rogue King will be so moved by her beauty and the promise of power she holds that he will be tempted to take her.”

“The promise of power she holds?” I questioned. “What if she has to display it?”

Azazel’s smile grew brighter, practically radiating amusement. “Oh, well, that was the hard part—and you two almost ruined my magic formulation.”

Edgar and I exchanged a skeptical look.

“Show them,” Azazel commanded Agnes.

Agnes raised a long, sharply tapered finger and drew a glowing circle in the air. Suddenly, a loud frog croak echoed through the corridor. When I looked beside me, Edgar was gone—replaced by a small, green frog.

“What the hell!” I yelled, horrified that my Beta had been reduced to a mere amphibian.

Azazel threw her head back in laughter. “Don’t worry, the magic will fade!”

She appeared to be enjoying herself thoroughly. Seconds later, the spell broke, and Edgar reappeared right beside me. His face was flushed red with anger. He immediately launched himself at Azazel, wrapping his hands tightly around her neck.

“Would you like to become a cockroach?” Azazel whispered loudly, completely unfazed.

Edgar froze. He slowly dropped his hands to his sides, glaring at her. “You wicked witch.”
Edgar was seething, and understandably so. If Azazel had turned me into some nasty creature, she had better pray the spell never broke, because I would kill her in a heartbeat.

“Agnes?” I called her name like a question, because I was not even sure that this newly transformed lady standing in front of me would even recognize me.

She laughed, and her voice obviously did not sound the same; it had a light, delicate tone to it, almost like porcelain. “Alpha, I recognize you, and my memories have remained intact.”

I was relieved. “So you understand the task that you have set out to do?”

She nodded at me. “Of course.”

Then I glanced at Azazel. “You were telling me about the story she would give to the Rogue King. This is a war, though, and I believe it will be really hard to fool him. I’m sure he would expect us to send spies to his palace, and we cannot have him suspecting a thing.”

Azazel grinned at the concern I had raised. “Do not worry about a thing. Agnes has memories of a life she has never actually lived.”

I looked at Agnes and raised an eyebrow. “What life?”

“The life of a fairy queen,” Agnes said, laughing softly at me. “It appears a wicked witch took me and made me this size, when really I should be able to fit in your palm. And now I am trying to find my way back to my realm, but it appears impossible.”

I hoped that the Rogue King would buy that story. “Okay,” I said. “What’s next, then? How will you make it to the realm where Samara is?”

Azazel looked at me like I had asked a stupid question. “That’s not my job to do. We have to hope the Rogue King trusts her enough to take her there himself.”

“I see,” was all I said.

“So she leaves now?” Edgar asked.

“More or less,” Azazel replied. “I see no reason why she cannot.”

But I had something that I wished to give to Agnes before she departed. I pulled her aside, almost scared to touch her arm because she looked as though she might break under my fingers. Once we were alone, I pulled the necklace out from my pocket.

“This is Samara’s,” I whispered. “Just in case you see her. If you give her this, I believe it will save her from danger.”

Agnes held a grave expression on her face, even as such a dainty creature. “I understand. I will make sure that she gets this.” She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I promise you, Alpha Lucian, I will not fail you. You will not regret this.”

I really hope so, I said in my head, but out loud I said, “Just keep safe, and make sure you come back home, too.”

“She must leave now.”

I turned sharply to see Azazel standing right behind us. She had interrupted a private conversation, and I was not pleased with that.
“Azazel, I am—”

“You’re giving the pendant meant for your lover girl to her, right?” Azazel cut in, her voice thick with impatience. “She must leave now. There is a mere window of magic I must not miss, because she’s not going to walk there or take any form of transportation to the Rogue King’s palace.”
I raised an eyebrow.

“Then just watch and see,” Azazel said. “Is there anything else you wish to give her?”

I looked at Agnes. “Just try to memorize as much as you can. Find out his weaknesses and how we can defeat him. That is all we need from you, and then we’ll take care of the rest.”

Agnes nodded. She understood her assignment completely.

Edgar joined us in the corridor, and Azazel commanded Agnes to walk down the hallway without looking back. Agnes gave a single, firm nod and did as Azazel instructed. Right before my very eyes, as Agnes took each step forward, she began to fade into thin air—dissolving into nothingness until she was completely gone.

I turned sharply to Azazel. “What the hell? How the hell did that happen?”

She smiled, her dark eyes gleaming with quiet triumph. “Magic. Lost magic.”