"I already told you because you were ant to be mine, Vivian, and I always get what I want, one way or the other," the Wickan master remarked in a dangerous tone. "It doesn’t matter what ans I have to use. You will be mine."
Why her? What did the Wickan master want with her? Why did he have so much interest in her?
She was just an oga whore.
Alaric didn’t have the patience to waste his ti on pleasantries and explanations. What mattered most was that his most prized and dear possession was recaptured into his hands.
However, now was not the ti to repossess Vivian for himself.
There were still much more exciting adventures he devised up ahead for the she-wolf.
"It wouldn’t be entertaining to reveal the entire ga to you, now would it, Vivian?" Alaric mocked with a snort, trailing his finger down Vivian’s neck, which made her swallow hard involuntarily. "It’s about ti I lay out the rules of this ga."
The Wickan master relished in the sweet and angry way Vivian’s tears released. It roused a rather entertaining satisfaction deep within his dark Wickan heart.
He absolutely adored seeing Vivian shed tears because of him.
"You see, sweetheart, there’s a reason your father allowed you to run off into the territory of cursed Lycans," Alaric stated, brushing away her tears with the pad of his thumb, the material of his glove rough against her cheek. "Every little move of yours has been accounted for."
"What...reason?" Vivian questioned, her voice strained and hoarse from crying too much.
As far as she could recall, she never expected she would have easily escaped her impending doom of pack rcy. It was sowhat suspicious that the Moonborn wolves were unable to keep pace with her and undoubtedly they would have imdiately caught Avery when the child attempted to create a diversion.
They would have punished her unremorsefully. So why let her go? Why allow her to flee across the river just as her aunt did?
"We’ll save the reason for another ti," Alaric said, avoiding the topic. "Right now, there’s sothing you need to do for . Before you refuse, you should know that if you accomplish this task, I can release this magic from your body and you’ll regain your shifter abilities."
Quite a tempting offer. Vivian was more than prepared to go to any extent or ans to be unshackled from the agony burning her body. It didn’t matter what the consequences were because she desired her sweet freedom and relief.
In a heartbeat, Vivian asked, "What task? What...do I have to do?" Desperation oozed in her tone and although she despised the man, she was determined to escape the fate slowly leading her to her death.
Since Alaric was the one who cast the deathly magic on her, surely he ought to be the only one who could remove it?
There was little hope and chance that the Wickans of Sabre Coven whom Ronan was acquainted with could actually resolve her issue.
Alaric was her last and only chance at that.
"The Lycan Ronan Wolfsbane who’s been taking care of you," Alaric began, a sly smirk forming on his lips when he watched the delicious panic in Vivian’s eyes resurface. "I despise the fellow for taking you from , but..."
But what?
"You need to get closer to him, Vivian," Alaric instructed, his tone firm and absolute. "There’s sothing Moonborn and Estwood need to collectively accomplish and you are the important key to achieving it."
When Ronan ca to, he was laying in the middle of a corrugated path of thick tree roots beneath him.
Uncertain for how long he remained unconscious, his body was still plagued by a sluggish and heavy feeling in his muscles. His body was practically paralysed, leaving him with little opportunity to move about.
Judging by the effects on his body, there was only one thing the Wickans could have concocted to attack him in such a precise way.
Moonbind Draught.
The bane and weakness of all Lycans.
Moonbind Draught was an amalgamation of valerian root (to cause drowsiness), nightshade berries (to affect their nervous system), crushed silver shavings (to counteract their natural resistance to any ordinary poisons) and a drop of venom from an adder snake.
However, Moonbind Draught was the kind of concoction that was required to be injected directly into a Lycan’s bloodstream for the effects to be induced.
The question was, when exactly did the Wickans have the opportunity to strike him with this Moonbind Draught potion?
The Lycan Alpha’s eyes shot wide open when a sudden realisation dawned on him. The previous day when Avery unexpectedly arrived near the valley of Shadow where he captured her, the young wolf had scratched his arm hard enough to draw blood when she struggled against him.
However, taking the route of leniency simply because she was Vivian’s niece, Ronan disregarded the matter and injury since it healed instantly.
It was the only opportune mont when sothing could have infiltrated his bloodstream.
Was Avery’s wolf claws laced with Moonbind Draught? Perhaps a very minuscule amount since the potion took a considerably long ti to affect his body.
It was so subtle, the Lycan Alpha didn’t even feel its presence in his body or suspect any gradual changes.
Nevertheless, now was not the ti to uselessly contemplate the mastery behind the situation the Wickans orchestrated.
Vivian was his top priority and by all ans, he needed to get to her before the unthinkable could occur.
Ronan released a guttural roar from his throat, sending the nearby animals into a panic. The white horse he rode earlier remained loyally close, neighing in fright from his beastly roar.
The Lycan Alpha forced every cell in his body to beckon to his will. The effects of the Moonbind Draught were difficult to power through and attempting to do so only set his muscles and nerves alight with burning pain.
However, failure to regain control of his body would an further delaying the mont he finally rescued Vivian.
There was no clue or hint as to where the Wickans could have imprisoned or dragged her off, but when Ronan was free.
All hell would break loose.
He would tear apart the entire forest if he had to just to find her.
Reviews
All reviews (0)