048
Isolde.
“What are you doing, sire?” she asked, trying to urge the male to his feet.
He looked at her with furrowed brows, wondering.
Doesn’t she know this was how alphas were recognized?
“I am to bow before you, my lady. I am not worthy of standing before you,” he answered.
“Please rise. I am not who you think I am. I’m just a breeder…”
The male gauged her, wondering if she was serious about what she had said. Shockingly, she was serious. The male rose to his feet, swallowing.
“Why were you so hurt? How were you able to hide your identity?” he asked, desiring to know as he handed her back the water.
Isolde took the mug and drank the whole content. She noticed her lycan calming down now, seeming to trust the male a little. Her wounds started to heal, and that made the talisman hairpin begin working again, hiding her lycan.
“Someone tried to kill me with some kind of herbs…”
“Wolfsbane, henbane, moonhide, Duskthorn, and silver,” the man outlined, much to her shock.
“How did you know?” she asked, going pale from shock.
The older man took a seat, grunting. Then he looked back at her and responded. “Well, I’m a renowned herbalist and abbot. I know things such as those,” he shrugged. “Once mixed together, it can inflict pain on anyone, especially lycans.”
Isolde was mute for a few minutes, scanning her eyes all over the room until she returned it back to him.
“I was only brought here to be a breeder. No one was supposed to know my identity,” she fearfully admitted, wringing her fingers together.
“Where are you from?” he asked, and when she mentioned Brindlemark, the older male’s face paled.
“What happened?” she asked when he immediately shoved his face away as if he was hiding something. He rose to his feet and walked over to another of his shelves. There was a jar there, and he lifted it and sank his hand inside it, secretly pulling out a hairpin that looked exactly like hers.
The man’s heart crushed with sorrow, but he held it in, putting the hairpin back into the jar and closing it.
“Why are you so quiet?” It was Isolde who asked, trying to stand up. Unfortunately, the pain had her sinking back into the bed with a hiss.
The older man turned back to her, blinking away any expression that’d hint anything to Isolde.
“Nothing, my lady. I’m sorry I zoned out. It’s because Brindlemark is a very nice place…”
“You’ve been there before?” she asked, her lips curling in a smile. Isolde enjoyed talking about Brindlemark a lot.
The older male strode to her side and sat back down. “Sometime in the past,” he smiled sullenly and added. “My brother used to live there. With his family.”
Curious, Isolde asked again. “Where is he now?”
He flicked her a look, smiled, and answered, “Dead.”
He couldn’t believe his eyes at all. The female sitting beside him at the moment. He nearly wanted to reach out to her, clutch her to his chest, but he held back.
What a small world, the male thought, staring at Isolde. He broke their silence and asked, “What is your name?”
“Isolde Hawstrings,” she beamed.
If only she knew, the male thought to himself.
“You?”
“Henson,” he offered, fighting the urge to say his real name. “I must say it’s nice to meet you, my lady,” he hummed. “Why don’t you get some rest, my lady? It’d help your healing to process fast, eh?”
Isolde nodded. She stretched her legs, ready to lie back on the small bed but paused. She called out to Henson, and the older male stopped in his tracks.
“Can I ask you for something?”
“Of course, my lady. Anything,” he answered too quickly.
“Please, I need you to keep my secret. My father always told me to never let anyone know what I truly am. Please, don’t tell anyone,”
Henson stared at her a moment longer and then nodded, beaming her way. “Your little secret is safe with me, my lady.”
With that, he turned away, leaving Isolde. As she laid back on the bed, Isolde began to wonder why the man looked sullen when she told him she was from Brindlemark.
Obviously, the small village reminded him of his brother and his family. Brindlemark always did that to her too. It always reminded her where she came from, the small quiet village full of life.
And about her parents.
The noise coming from outside woke Isolde from her sleep. Face wrinkled in confusion, she rose to her feet and stealthily walked to the curtain that demarcated the inner side of the shop from the outer side. She peeked, and much to her surprise, it was only customers chattering with Henson that made the noise.
Henson was trading his tinctures and portions of different colors and uses.
She watched him pick out one of the portions and waved it in front of the male standing opposite him.
“Eregor, this is the surest of portions. Before you lay with the breeder you’ve purchased, drink it. It’ll help in projecting your pup into her.”
The male looked doubtful as he collected the vial. Looking back at Henson, he growled, “What happens if this doesn’t work?”
Henson smirked and asked, “Who doesn’t know me, Eregor? I make the best portions in Abbator. Why would you doubt me, boy?”
Eregor turned silent. Holding Henson’s gaze, he uncapped the lid of the vial and threw his head back, knocking the whole liquid down his throat.
“What? I said before you lay with the female…” Henson prattled, but before he could finish, Eregor dashed away from the shop, hopefully to go and lay with his breeder, after throwing a purse of coins at Henson.
Isolde couldn’t help the smile that clouded her face when Henson cursed under his breath. She watched him trade with a few more people before the noise in the shop died down.
While Henson was arranging the counter, Isolde came outside. The male startled, cursing.
“You’ve woken, my lady,” he said, inspecting her with a thorough glance.
That was when Isolde looked down at her body and realized her wounds had all cleared up.
“I guess so,” she rolled her arms back and forth and then looked back at Henson. “Thank you, Sire Henson.”
He waved her off, turning back to what he was doing. However, Isolde still stood at his back, looking at the row of vials lined up on the counter.
“Do you have a poison?” she blurted, causing Henson to choke on his saliva.
He turned back to her, eyes wide. “Why would my lady want that? I thought you’re a breeder?” he asked.
“I need it for something important, you see,” she hedged, shrugging. “I’ll pay you back, I promise. It’s not going to be for free.”
Isolde prayed silently that the old man would agree to give her what she requested. For a while, she’d been thinking of a way to end the monster lord so she’d gain her freedom, but nothing came to her mind.
Right now, though, she had a good idea of how she’d save herself and Lucinda from captivity.
Her eyes bulged when she saw Henson moving back into the small room. He walked over to his shelf brimming with vials and picked the smallest of the vials. The aqua-blue content shimmered through the transparent vial.
“Here,” he said. Isolde desperately reached for the vial and stared at it. “It’s called moonrot. It kills very slowly, and you can use it however you wish.”
“Thank you, Sire Henson,” she gladly tucked the vial into the skirt of her dress. “I will use it cautiously…”
A loud thump had the both of them looking back at the door. Isolde’s eyes widened, and her mind went into panic mode when she saw the sentinels shoving inside the shop.
They were led by the young lad Henson saved her from earlier.
“There she is!” the lad said, smirking victoriously as he pointed at her.
Wordlessly, the sentinels came forward and hauled Isolde into their arms, taking her away.
She started screaming for Henson to help her, but the male remained still, refusing to interfere.
Isolde’s heart was racing by the time they returned to the tower and locked her in her chamber.
“Why are you locking me in!?” she shouted, banging on the door.
“Shut up, hawkling! The lord commanded it so. Serves you right, cunt! I hope you bleed you dry when he comes,” one of the sentinels said, and the others laughed boisterously at that, leering at Isolde.
When their footsteps faded down the hall, she knew they were going to inform Lord Draco that she had been captured.
In the silence of her chamber, her heart hammered with dread. What was he going to do to her?
TBC.