Alpha Knight & the Cursed Witch

The entire Crescent Quarter was enveloped in darkness. However, she had memorized the way after years of traversing it, so she no longer found it difficult. Nothing had changed much during her six years of absence. The deep shadows and eternal silence remained.

Every time she passed someone, they pretended not to see her, and she did the same. In Crescent Quarter, words were worthless unless they carried paramount importance.

Slowly, she knocked five times on a massive iron door before her. The knob seemed to hiss.

After a few seconds, the carved marks on the doorknob began to glow red, a sign that it had identified her. The knob twisted and rattled a few times before a hard thud echoed, and the door swung open, revealing a dark chamber lit only by red flickering candles.

She entered breathlessly, and the door closed behind her on its own. The air inside was suffocating, as if she were at the depths of the sea. The mounted candles flickered with her shadow.

"I have come as you summoned," she said solemnly.

The figures in front of her moved stealthily, blending effortlessly with the darkness, making it hard to discern their number.

Despite the shadows, her weary eyes caught five distinct shades of black. Silence followed until one of the figures approached her. She immediately lowered her gaze to the ground and dropped to her knees.

Clearing her throat, she said, "Nysander has fallen..."

A deep, rough voice rumbled with fury, its chill reaching her feet. It sounded like a dozen demons speaking in unison.

"But his letter has arrived," she added.

Silence stretched between them, indicating the letter's importance and their need to examine it.

A moment later, the figure finally spoke the words she never thought she'd hear.

"The Abyssal Wayfarer is back," he said lowly.

She raised her gaze, understanding that their plan must now be executed swiftly with the Key they needed finally returned.

"Bring the Night Howler," he ordered. "It will summon the beast we need."

His figure seemed to reach the ceiling, but the shadows and his black cloak concealed his face. It felt as though she were speaking to the night sky.

"We need the White Fang," a scratchy female voice whispered behind her. She dared not move, knowing it would show disrespect to their leaders if she met their eyes.

"Find the Cursed One," another low voice grumbled on her right, echoing around her ears. She could no longer identify how many were inside with her.

"Summon the Beast!" The roar sounded like hundreds of eerie voices whispering at once, repeatedly uttering the words 'Cursed Witch' and 'White Fang.'

She bit her lips and lowered her posture until she nearly kissed the cold, dusty ground.

"Consider it done, my Lords," she said against the silence.

The voices did not reply, and she exited the cavernous chamber. She now carried the replica of the Night Howler, greasy black and as small as a finger, resembling a whistle made from the bone of an unknown prehistoric beast.

Many men had been lost trying to obtain this artifact. As she held it firmly in her sweating hands, she foresaw their plan finally coming to life and the end of many lives.

"I must find the Cursed One, summon the Beast, and bring the White Fang to the Shadows," she whispered to herself, grinning. "And then this world will finally become what it should have been a long time ago..."

***

Knight Sin GrimDaleward

Knight wiped the dripping blood from his nose with the back of his hand. Pain was spreading throughout his body, but there was no time to dwell on it.

The late afternoon breeze seemed to pause after sweeping through the tall trees nearby. The thick branches squeaked, and the countless onlookers gasped around them.

"Duck!" Knight heard Josiah roar from the distance, trying to help his friend, Emmet, avoid Knight's swift and powerful punches.

But no matter how loudly Josiah shouted, Emmet moved too slowly. Knight's next fist collided straight into Emmet's jaw.

The sudden impact sent Emmet flying over the fence that surrounded them. The fence broke as Emmet landed headfirst into the ground with a horrible thud.

Emmet soon rose to his feet. He shook his dizzy head and, without hesitation, charged back toward Knight.

Knight was two years younger and at least a foot shorter than Emmet. Despite his workouts, no muscles seemed to emerge from his young body.

This disappointed his father endlessly, deeming him weak, but Knight's physical features did not stop him from moving with precise swings, deliberately attacking and kicking the approaching Emmet squarely in the chest.

Knight maneuvered his body effortlessly to dodge Emmet's jab, then advanced his right foot to kick Emmet in the thigh, further aggravating the bruise from the recent fall, making him stagger.

The bell overhead rang, and Knight returned to his defensive stance.

"Five minutes left," Knight thought.

Emmet was thinking the same, for before Knight could blink, Emmet had already pinned him to the muddy ground.

Emmet's nails swiftly turned into long, dark claws, digging into Knight's arm.

But Knight did not give Emmet the satisfaction of hearing him groan. He had anticipated this moment.

Emmet had the Beast, while Knight did not. Although transforming into a Werebeast was prohibited, using their sharp claws or heightened senses was not.

"This is useless," Emmet shouted above Knight. "You're too weak to win against me..."

Knight's cheeks stung, and the metallic taste of blood lingered on his tongue.

Emmet buried Knight's face further into the ground, and the observing crowd cheered with delight.

Knight hated that sound since he became conscious. The crowd always cheered when someone was being hurt.

He used his remaining strength to fight back and stand, but Emmet twisted his arm, pulling a hiss from Knight's gritted teeth.

What Knight hated the most was having his face buried in the ground. It was the most degrading act one could do to a Werebeast.

They were called the Children of the Moon for a reason, meant to howl with their heads held high into the starless sky. Pushing one's head low meant they did not deserve their Beast.

The sorrow finally registered in Knight's heart, realizing that Emmet was much more delighted in doing such an act. Indeed, Knight did not deserve the honor and glory of being the Alpha's Heir.

He had already turned sixteen last month, yet his Wolf had not awakened. It was unheard of throughout the continent of Collosus.

Certainly, it was common if one was an Omega since their Wolves were of weaker origins. But Knight was not just anyone. He was the sole successor of his honorable father's throne, the Alpha of the Elderwood Clan.

Knight was supposed to be mighty, predestined to attain immense strength and intellect, more capable than the rest, but he was not.

It was, of course, depressing to think about it. Despite that, Knight did not give up the fight.

"I'm going to win this bloody tournament," he swore. "I will bring home the Night Howler!"

Knight firmly closed his eyes. Emmet held his head from the back and was about to twist it to make him unconscious. But instead of panicking, he calmed his mind.

He felt his surroundings, breathing in slowly. The ground below was hard, its coldness biting into his palms. The wind blowing was fierce, but there was something unsettling about it. The noises were deafening. Every shout amplified. Every groan was akin to a massive explosion.

Then Knight heard it, that ringing call. Then the quiet throb of Emmet's veins two inches below his heart.

It was the focal point. The sole target. With the last ounce of his strength, Knight twisted to the left, dragging Emmet along with him. He elbowed Emmet's rib, but he missed the target.

Emmet's hold on Knight loosened, but it was not enough to let him go. Knight tried to wiggle and kick, but he was now too exhausted to escape Emmet's deadly grip.

One wrong move and Emmet could twist his vulnerable neck. Just one wrong attempt and he might finally lose the only chance he had.

Countless eyes watched over them, resisting the urge to blink so as not to miss what came next. Everyone held their breaths, standing motionless.

Everyone waited, but Knight's father stood mighty from his seat on a higher ground than everyone else. He saw it easily despite the overwhelming crowd, sitting among the other eight Alphas of Collosus.

Knight's father began to walk down the platform, his gaze high above everyone else's. He never bothered to look at his son as he exited the hall, his guards following behind. Then silence.

In that instant, Knight already knew the result. He lost the tournament. Not because Emmet was about to win the fight, but because he had failed to impress his father. Knight failed him again.

He was not strong enough to keep his father entertained, or at least, to make his time worthwhile.

The seething anger soon blossomed in his raging heart like wildfire, burning through his entire being. With renewed strength, he stood gracefully, surprising everyone, including himself.

He did not waste another second and hauled Emmet, throwing him off his back and flipping him over onto the ground. Charging with determination, he struck Emmet's exposed stomach.

Sliding sideways, Knight delivered a final blow. There was a deafening silence as time seemed to stand still, and Emmet remained motionless.

The crowd was stunned, then erupted into roaring screams that almost disturbed all the living in the Underworld.

"Knight Sin GrimDaleward of the East Pack!"

The head jury's enthusiastic voice echoed in every corner of the expanse. Until Knight could no longer hear anything but the ragged beats of his heart and his name being chanted like a prayer as he ascended the landing where all the Alphas stood.

At the center, a white-haired man Knight knew as the Elder held the bone whistle in both hands, almost gleaming in the approaching moonlight.

When Knight finally reached them, he sank to one knee, lowering his gaze as a form of respect. He was too tired, too preoccupied to even listen to what the Elder was saying. He was muttering in an obscure language to finish the ritual.

Blurs began to swirl before Knight's eyes, and the pain seemed to haunt him now. Above everything, he just wanted to go to his comfortable bed and finally sleep.

So he was beyond grateful when the Elder gestured with his wrinkled hands and said, "Rise..."

With muddied and trembling hands, Knight accepted the Night Howler. The piece of bone now lying in his palms was as cold as the dead, as if it had been buried for centuries without anyone possessing it.

The Night Howler was strange. He could not identify the whistle, now that his consciousness was fading. He had been fighting for more than ten hours straight, and he had defeated every one of his opponents fair and square.

He had never thought he would win. Aside from being Wolfless, he was among the smallest and youngest. But now, holding the ultimate trophy for everyone to behold, it was such a great milestone that he wanted to smile, even laugh. But when he glanced at his father, who was now back and standing stately among the other Alphas, he just bit his tongue, stopping himself from even grinning.

"Alpha never smiles. It merely displays weakness. Never laugh unless you're laughing at your enemies' misfortune. Only smile at their corpses. You must show it only before Death..."

His father's words echoed like a creaking hanging bridge in his head. So instead of celebrating his victory, which he deserved, Knight just held his head high. He showed everyone below him that they should never belittle him again.

Alexa Ragnarrson

"So, how was your walk to town?" Ludwig's concerned voice echoed around the empty hallway.

"Not bad," Alexa answered vaguely while she ate her newly harvested fruits.

She was worried about Riley, but she couldn't tell her cousin about that. Ludwig already had so much on his plate. She didn't want to burden him with something that didn't directly concern the kingdom.

"You should've brought Leonel or even Rivalz to accompany you," Ludwig added, crossing his muscular arms as he leaned back in his seat.

Alexa wanted to roll her eyes but stopped herself. It was uncalled for. Besides, ever since she had come to live at Fortunalia, Ludwig had become her father figure, even though he was just a couple of years older than her.

His absolute rule for Alexa was never to go out alone, without the knights, or without him and her other cousins.

Alexa knew Ludwig was just worried about her safety, so she didn't protest, though sometimes she couldn't help but rebel.

"Don't worry, Ludwig," she said, munching on the apple. "I just went to the orphanage at the edge of town. Besides, I was only gone for about two hours, shorter than the royal meetings. I didn't want to trouble your knights with babysitting me. I know they have more important things to focus on than me."

From afar, Alexa could hear Ludwig's seething sigh. "You are important, Alexa. You know that. And I am certain they won't babysit you. Leonel is eight years younger than you, for instance. It would've been the other way around."

Alexa put her legs on the other seat at the table. "Which makes it worse, Ludwig. I'm older than both of them, but I don't want anyone watching over me."

"They're not even watching you. They're protecting you. There's a fine difference. Think of it."

"But you know I can handle danger myself," Alexa pressed on.

Of course, she didn't want to use this card because it sounded so arrogant coming from her. And she knew it was a bluff. She couldn't even do a proper teleportation spell without ruining something else in the process.

"Everyone knows that, but Leonel and Rivalz are more trained for combat and much more willing and determined to fight and kill." Ludwig smirked. "You can't even kill someone if your life is at stake."

Alexa frowned. She wanted to argue more, to assure Ludwig she was capable of defending herself like them.

But one look at the dark circles under Ludwig's eyes made her irritation vanish. She just released all her feelings into eating. Using magic while training Riley had made her hungry.

"All right then," she said as she gulped the cold water. "I'll bring them along next time so you won't worry about me. But don't blame me if they die."

Ludwig grinned. "Thank you for your understanding, Alexa. Of course, Leonel and Rivalz won't die." There was a deafening silence between them. "I know this setup is hard for you, but I just want to make sure Amelia doesn't get you. She got..."

Sorrow and immense anger flickered in Ludwig's fire-blue eyes. "She captured Hiyasmin," he said, almost denying the truth. "I don't want her to get you too. So please..."

Alexa nodded. She understood very well what Ludwig felt at that moment. She missed Hiyasmin very much, too.

Ludwig glanced up at her as he examined scattered papers on his wide wooden table. "That's your seventh apple," he pointed out.

Alexa shrugged. "I used magic earlier, so..."

"Is Sinister okay?"

"I'm okay, Ludwig," answered Alexa. "Don't worry about us." She took another fruit.

"That's your tenth now," Ludwig said, staring curiously at her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Alexa met Ludwig's gaze. "I've been hungry since I was born," she added matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, right." Ludwig looked away and pretended to read the letters before him. "But you never ate more than seven. Usually, you'll wait for an hour before you eat again. Only this time you..."

"You're thinking too much, Ludwig," Alexa said, yawning as sleepiness seemed to crawl into her eyes. "I said I'm okay. Sinister is okay."

Alexa soon averted her gaze, her eyes falling to her clasped fingers. She was scared Ludwig noticed she was lying. Sinister was not all right, not anymore.

Just last week, when Alexa and Ludwig's mysterious guest Louise talked inside Hiyasmin's room, Sinister had suddenly poked her belly from within.

Alexa's veins turned purple, and she had felt a strange madness she had never felt before. She didn't know the true problem, but she noticed lately that she became more hungry despite not using her powers at all.

Before, Alexa could eat one sack of fruits a day, and it was sufficient. But now, it seemed two sacks were not enough by midday, even though she was just resting.

"You know what, Louise is visiting Hiyasmin regularly. She stays in her room, although..."

Alexa tried to change the topic. She wanted to lighten Ludwig's burdens in any way she could. But then again, she s*ck*d at these crucial things.

"Yeah," said Ludwig softly. "I saw her."

For a few moments, neither dared to speak. Soon, they decided to walk for a bit, savoring the tranquil beauty of Lancaster Castle's sweeping landscape.

"I'll go to Louise later," Alexa said to Ludwig, who was standing beside her. "I want to thank her for this gift."

Alexa showed Ludwig the gift Louise had given her. It was wrapped securely in ordinary fabric. She hadn't opened it yet. She hadn't found the right time to do so.

"Do you want to join me?" Alexa asked. "I bet she's in the library again."

Ludwig shook his head firmly, his lips tightly sealed. "You should go," he said. "I still have a lot to do."

Alexa raised an eyebrow at him. She knew Ludwig wanted to see Louise. She could see her figure in his solemn eyes.

"Are you scared?" Alexa asked, trying to tease. But Ludwig fell silent, his expression unreadable. Her eyes widened in surprise. She was about to roast him further, but he simply turned and left her standing alone before the battlements.

"D*mn," she muttered. "The brave and raging Ludwig, felled by the small hands of our human maiden." She shook her head, laughing. She already knew Ludwig felt something for Louise. It was bloody obvious. But she had never thought it was that deep.

Alexa marched back toward the expansive library. She was just a few feet away from the gold-laden door when she opened Louise's gift.

It was merely a hairpin, and a smile etched itself on her face as she examined it. Surrounded by men and only having Hiyasmin as her usual companion, Alexa had never received something so feminine. Only this time.

She excitedly put the hairpin in her long, elegant white hair. Then she conjured a Mirror Spell to see how it looked on her, only for the spell to fade as she saw her reflection.

It can't be.

She conjured another spell with a soft murmur. Then slowly, she took another peek. But it did not change, not at all. This was not true. Her once long white hair had turned greasy black.

Never in the history of witches had something like this happened. Not even once. Vibrant and colorful hair was the distinct symbol of witches, just like how pointed ears were associated with elves, scales meant wyverns, and tribal tattoos marked werebeasts.

A witch's hair was immune to any form of magic. No matter what one did, no matter what spell was cast, one could never alter a witch's inherent hair color.

So why had her hair suddenly turned black? She curiously brushed her hair. Maybe her Mirror Spell was broken. But then, when she looked down, the tips of her hair were indeed black.

That made her smile. She fixed her hair. It now looked normal. She didn't look like a witch any longer. She thought, does this mean I can now walk freely in Fortunalia without anyone judging me?

Suddenly, delight filled her being. She had never admitted it to anyone, but it was tiring being judged constantly for something one had no control over.

Alexa soon went back to eating, and she spent an absurd amount of time trying to understand the inner workings of the hairpin, but she could not find any relevant information.

She guessed it was an ancient magical tool, so she just hid it in a cabinet in her room and soon treated the eight white snakes she had rescued in the SpringLeaf Forest a while ago.

One of the biggest snakes began shedding its gleaming skin. Alexa was busy cleaning it when, suddenly, a soft knock thudded on her chamber door. Instead of throwing away the skins, she put them in a small bag she always carried.

When Alexa unlatched the wooden door, she glanced down and saw a young boy holding five wooden boxes in his tiny, shivering hands.

Alexa looked around the hallway, but there was no one else but them and the silence. "What are you doing here, boy?" she asked. "Are you lost?"

For one, they did not have any child servants in Lancaster Castle, so it was impossible he was one of them.

The dirt-streaked face of the boy looked up at her, then his cracked lips said, "The beasts within lie. Awaken with the dead."

"Cries," Alexa whispered, finishing the boy's trembling rhyme.

Then, realization hit her. Alexa's lips parted and eyes widened as her hands froze. "Who..." She could barely speak. "Who taught you that..."

Before Alexa could interrogate the boy, he dropped the boxes at her feet. Then, without any sort of farewell, he ran away, concealing himself with a black cloak.

The boy was fast. By the time Alexa decided to follow him, he was nowhere to be seen.

That rhyme, she thought, her mother taught her that rhyme. It was written by her mother before she died. She never spoke of those rhymes since then.

So how could someone else know about it?

Alexa picked up the small boxes and brought them back to her chamber. She attempted to search for the boy's presence, but she couldn't feel anything.

When she returned, the boxes were still lying idly on the floor. Alexa needed to tell Ludwig about this.

With a wildly beating heart, Alexa went to the door to do just that. But before she could reach the metallic knob, she heard a soft click from behind her.

It was so soft and low she almost missed it. But her body reacted on reflex. She had heard that familiar click a hundred times before, like it was a clock.

She heard it whenever she was practicing her Teleportation Spell. She kept messing it up, blowing her entire quarter.

That was when Alexa understood. Her eyes seemed to flicker.

The boxes contained Teleportation Bombs!

With panicking hands, Alexa opened her bag sitting nearby. Her hands trembled with her hammering heart. She reached for her pendant and swiftly shouted, "Aegis!"

At the exact same moment, the boxes on the ground shook like quakes, their holes fuming with dark smoke.

The silvery pendant in her hand throbbed like a second heartbeat before it grew heavy until she could no longer hold it anymore.

The pendant stretched itself, transforming into thick metallic walls. Then it curled and opened and swallowed her entire body like she was inside an egg.

The transformation was quick like lightning in her eyes. She was scared that she was only a heartbeat away from burning into ashes. But before the Sealing Spell fully caged her, the boxes exploded with resounding bangs. It rang thick in Alexa's ears, and soon the cage heated up, and finally, the last remaining explosion ensued, transporting her very confinement deep into the unknown.

Alexa closed her eyes as her forehead hit the metal enclosure. She had intended to create a soft cushion between her and her shield, but it was already too late. She couldn't even sit up straight inside, let alone cast another spell.

Her head slammed against the metal several times until her vision blurred. Her throat felt raw from shouting in pain. Now she finally understood how it felt to be a beaten egg-it hurt badly.

The loud ringing inside her head didn't stop. She squinted a couple of times and clasped her hands around her ears, but it did nothing to stop the sharp noises from piercing her eardrums.

Just when she thought she would pass out, the loud ringing stopped. The shaking of her protective metal case ceased, and everything stilled, although her mind was still in chaos.

For a moment, she didn't move. She hugged herself tightly, afraid that if she moved even an inch, the explosion would resume.

As time passed and nothing happened, she allowed herself to relax a bit, gently palming the wounds on her head. Hissing in pain and discomfort, she blinked several times to get her bearings, but her vision remained blurry.

The metal egg around her began to melt, gradually returning to its pendant form. She gripped it and tucked it into her satchel. She was about to shout for help when she saw the old abandoned house in front of her.

Alexa was breathless. It couldn't be. The ruined building looked exactly like the house. Their house. Her parents' house.

Knight Sin GrimDaleward

The great Moon hung yellow above the starlit sky. The huge feast, savory and sweet, was now awaiting everyone's drooling mouths.

Everyone was having a good time, congratulating Knight's father for winning the most coveted Night Howler. The hall was swelling with pride and delight. It was important for his father to win the tournament because it did not just mean that their pack was the strongest.

It also, and most importantly, meant that they would guard the precious Night Howler for thirteen years to come. It was, after all, the most sacred artifact of their kind in the world of Quailsham.

Every Werebeast, every nighttime, had been told about the Legends of the Whistling Bone, the Caller of the Wild Beast. And therefore to guard it, even above their lives, was not just an honor but a badge of immense strength and absolute power. And for Werebeasts, strength was the ultimate aspiration.

"Why are you already standing, Sin? You should be in bed until you no longer need to. You must rest so your wounds and bruises will heal faster." There was a pause. "Is there anything bothering you, my son?"

Knight's lovely mother had a stern but caring look on her face. His heart melted when he saw how tired she was.

His mother was young, ever beautiful, and endlessly kind. He knew all his life that she deserved everything this world had in store. But she had been given nothing but heartaches.

"Mother..." he called softly.

Knight almost resembled his mother, as if she had made him alone. They had the same ink-black hair, dark swirling eyes, and rose-tinted lips. Only their skin was different, but that was due to his circumstances.

While Knight's mother was fair and flawless, Knight was tanned. He also had broader features, with bony cheeks and jaws, courtesy of his father. His mother was akin to fragile and soft flowers, and his father to stones and blades.

It was probably the reason why Lumellyana was mad whenever she saw him. Because Knight reminded her of Agoncilla.

Knight soon reached for Andra, his mother's, dirty hands.

The nearby candles were enough to glimpse them even within the dim chamber. It smelled like mud after the rain had just fallen to melt the lands of the far Northeast.

Knight's eyebrows furrowed. "Did Lumellyana order you again to gather the mud from Mount Cristo?"

His apparent anger was rising faster than he could control.

Andra hushed her son. "Don't cry for me, my son. Be light for me..." She wiped with her shivering fingers the warm tears that had fallen from Knight's gleaming eyes.

His mother closed the wooden windows and led Knight back to his bed. They sat side by side in silence, and soon she tended to his wounds.

Werebeasts could heal at will. They did not require any herbs, rituals, healers, or events to do so. But because Knight did not have his Wolf yet, his healing was slower than that of others his age.

Knight scoffed as he inhaled the rotten-smelling herb. His healing ability might seem slow and weak compared to other Werebeasts, but his senses were on a different level. He could hear things others couldn't, and he could see far beyond the horizon, even to the stars.

At first, he genuinely admired his unique ability. Finally, he had something different that his father would be proud of. Or so he had thought. But then his father was more disappointed to learn that Knight did not have the skill to filter his senses.

Knight was not discouraged, though. He knew he could master it like everyone else if he practiced deliberately.

"But mother," Knight argued, trying to pull his wrist from her. "You're not a servant. Why would they dare to order you?"

"It's better this way," said Andra firmly, smiling at him albeit faintly. "Lumellyana has been good to us. She did not throw us away even if she could. It's enough. This is just a very small price to pay."

Knight suddenly stood up, releasing his frustration. "And why must you pay for having me? It is and will never be your fault that the Alpha chose you." He stopped abruptly, unable to say it.

He might be competently strong, yes, but he was not yet ready to say the word he knew his mother hated. So instead, he just cried and fell into his mother's warm and tender embrace.

He cried not for himself, but for her, with her. He cried for her pain, for her suffering. He cried as if she were still carrying him inside, as if he were her emotions, her truth.

"This is why you must wait for her, Sin..." Andra softly ran her fingers through his hair. "You must wait for your Mate, your Fate, no matter how long it takes."

His mother's eyes sparkled with brimming tears, but she held herself back.

"Do not marry someone just because you are required to. Do not, and never use a lady as though she is nothing but a mere tool to elevate your pack's rank. Never be swayed by the Elder's words, nor the crowd's noises. Do not follow your father's footsteps. Just follow that, your heart. It's already set the way for you toward her. Promise me, Knight Sin. You promise."

Knight immediately nodded. Although it was merely implied, he knew to himself that he would never do what his father had done. He would never be with someone just because their pack needed an heir while his Mate was still nowhere to be found, or unfortunately, dead.

He would wait for her, his soulmate. No matter how long it took. No matter what it took. He would never have anyone else other than what the Moon Goddess desired for him.

"But..." Knight couldn't help but think. "What if she doesn't like me?"

It was a shame to ask his mother such a thing. But ever since he had learned about Mates, he dreaded the possibility that his Mate might not want him the way he did. He was certain he would love her unconditionally.

Yes, he was the Heir of their clan. He was the next Alpha of the East of Elderwood. But often his father said he was weak, that he was nothing and unworthy, and that he regretted ever having him as his son.

Andra chuckled, as sweet as the morning sun. "Getting nervous this early? You're yet to waken your Wolf."

Knight wanted to deny it, that it was a wrong assumption. His father said that a truly honorable man must not and should never be anxious even at the inevitability of Death.

He thought, if only I could rule this heart of mine.

But then his father was not here. So, he nodded shyly, and his sunburned face began to redden.

"No one would ever dare to reject my son." His mother's voice was an anchor that made him forget his fears. "Ignore what others say otherwise. Only listen to me. You're strong, and brave, and most especially you are just and kind. And also, which is of course given, utterly handsome. All women will fall for you. You don't have to bow down. You don't have to do anything. Your blood alone, your destiny speaks for itself."

Knight couldn't help but laugh even at the cost of being heard. The night seemed to deepen because of the apparent silence. It seemed the guardsmen had been wasted and had called it a night.

"You're always making fun of me, mother," he said, smiling at himself, his cheeks puffing. "Why so?"

"But I am not." Andra looked offended, but Knight could see the traces of laughter swelling in her eyes.

Knight's talk with his mother was still short, even if it had been an hour. Lumellyana only allowed them to see each other for that long. Although it was brief, and he was already yearning for more, he already felt better now that he had heard his mother's voice, her sweet laughter, and her contagious smiles.

Also, the assurance that she had given him about his Mate.

The midnight unexpectedly became noisy as daybreak approached. Knight trembled against the chilling caresses of the wind. The windows had opened. He was too lazy to close them and just tried to close his eyes again. But the light between the small gaps in his door haunted him. It knocked on his eyelids like an acquaintance, until he could no longer ignore the brightness.

With a heavy sigh, Knight got out of the bed's warmth. If he couldn't sleep anyway, it was better for him to go back to the banquet to see his mother. Maybe after the feast, or even a taste of beer, he could finally be sleepy then.

When Knight stepped outside, he couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that seemed to settle abruptly, like a cold, heavy metal pressing down on his gut. It felt weird. He wasn't sure why or what it was, but it was nowhere near positive.

Then, suddenly, as if waking from a nightmare, a sharp cry of horror sliced through the thick silence of the night.

Knight sprinted toward the sound on reflex, his eyes still blurred and limbs still exhausted. He stopped in his tracks when he finally saw what was happening outside the hall.

The once elegant and festive banquet was now in absolute chaos. Plates and dinnerware were scattered everywhere, and people were running in all directions. Raging fires consumed everything in their path.

"Mother!" Knight called, but the word got stuck in his throat when a large boulder swiftly struck his anxious face. His body flew past and landed near a broken table.

"Oh, and what do we have here this very late night?"

A melodious voice found its way to Knight's ringing ears. When he recovered, he tried to stand. But his vision was too slow to clear when a cold, soft finger caressed his cheek.

"Handsome, young boy, it seems," the voice purred like a vixen.

When the fog in his eyes faded, his gaze landed on the woman before him. The very veins in his body stiffened when he realized the woman's fiery red hair.

"Witch..." he breathed.

At the same time, the roaring warhorns were blown in succession, and a hoarse voice shouted, "We are under attack. Witches on sight. We are under attack!"

The beautiful woman smiled mockingly down at him. Before Knight could move to attack, she whispered something, then there was a sudden blinding light, and she flicked a finger at his cheek.

Knight's body flew across the expanse until his back hit a large tree with a thud. The leaves rustled and the branches creaked. The force was enough to earn him a few shattered bones.

"Magic," he murmured.

Knight squinted as his vision danced along with the swirling fires around him. His ears began to ring in silence as screams, laughter, and destruction happened at once. His senses were overwhelmed, affecting him badly.

He tried to stand, but the woman was faster than he had anticipated. She gripped his throat, raising him up and pinning him against the tree with one hand, her sharp nails digging into his skin.

Knight groaned as he swallowed against her tight hold. He twisted and pulled at her hands, but to no avail. She was far stronger than him, which baffled him greatly because he knew witches were not supposed to be physically strong. They were powerful, yes, but in terms of strength, they were the least of concerns.

But she was vastly different. "Trying to escape now, are we?" She smiled sweetly at him, tracing his nose with her free hand.

"They are indeed right," she said in a high-pitched, almost mocking tone. "You wolf beings are pleasing to look at. Just one level ahead of an animal..."

Knight clenched his jaw. "Werebeast," he managed to say.

He was already losing his breath. Her hold on him was getting tighter no matter how much he tried to break free. He was no match for her strength. It felt like he was holding a hard stone in his grasp.

The tree scratched his back. The dark smoke suffocated him. Everything seemed to slow down while his weakening hands clutched the arm that gripped his neck.

He could no longer hear the witch. His heightened hearing was failing him. His lungs were growing tired. That was when he felt it: the looming threat, the inevitable danger, and the depressing weight of death.

Knight smiled.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. The witch was no longer young and beautiful. Her youth seemed to have drained, her hair pale compared to the fire he had seen. And her eyes, black as death, hollow as the void.

Knight now understood why he couldn't defeat the witch's strength no matter how hard he tried. She was using Dark Sorcery, the forbidden art of witchcraft.

Knight's composure relaxed, and the old, wrinkled witch thought it was over, seemingly disappointed. She believed he was done for. Knight's eyes fluttered until they slid shut, and he listened one more time.

The chaotic noise was hard to understand, and Knight was starting to feel hopeless. He couldn't do this if everything was confusing.

He focused one more time and tried his best to hear, to know, to feel. Then his senses returned to normal. The sensitivity was gone, and everything was silent except for the witch's croaked laughter.

Knight could hear her breathing. He could feel her movements and sense her blood flowing. Then, at the right moment, he found it.

Knight sensed the witch move her other hand behind his neck, about to finish him once and for all. Then, swiftly, she moved, and at the same moment, Knight gathered the remaining strength he had and, with precise motion, dug his sharp nails directly against the veins.

She was so surprised by his subtle attack that she staggered, loosening her grip on him immediately.

Knight stood as he fell down. He did not give her a second to react. He kicked her head with his shin and, with a clean snap, brought her down. She fell, shocked, lifeless, with a wide-eyed smile.