The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate

Soon after the king arrived, Leonardo left to attend to him, leaving Esme alone in the tower.

Getting to work, Esme uncorked the first vial and poured a small amount of blood into a shallow dish. The deep red liquid glistened under the light, almost as if it pulsed with life, and it made Esme frown. She reached for the slender, silver needle she had set aside.

She dipped it into the blood, then carefully transferred it to a vial containing a clear reagent. After observing it for five minutes and seeing no desired effect, that didn’t deter her. This only confirmed that the sample came from a guardian injured by a simple weapon. She had collected three types of samples; normal blood, and two from those that were ferociously bitten or clawed.

She repeated the process with precision, her eyes locked on the vial, searching for any signs – a change in color, an unusual reaction. She held a small notepad and a dip pen, jotting down every detail because she couldn’t rely on her memory to keep track of things like this. If the blood reacted strongly, it might reveal a potent toxin.

After a few moments, the mixture began to froth slightly, releasing a faint sulphuric odor. She carefully poured it into a small glass flask and held it over the brazier’s flame. As the heat intensified, the liquid began to separate – the dark substances sinking to the bottom while the crimson residue floated to the top.

"It separated," Esme whispered, straightening up. Although she expected a positive result, the separation was never a part of that. Finishing up the last test by placing the mixture on a microscope slide and covering it with a coverslip, she then examined it under the compound microscope.

This was her first time using such an important and valuable instrument, though she wasn’t surprised the palace would have one. In Illyria, only five people were lucky to have such rare items in their homes, and that included the palace. The remaining other four belonged to powerful sorcerers and renowned healers, and she only got to know about this while building her knowledge.

After examining the blood and understanding why the separation happened, another theory crept up her mind. Could it be the demon cells die due to their inability to merge with the blood of someone who’s already dead? If the guardians actually survived, what would have happened?

Esme wrote down her theory. A knock on the door suddenly startled her.

"Milady, the king awaits you in the dining hall," the maid relayed the king’s message. Esme quickly tidied the table and kept her notepad in her bag. As she attempted to close the curtain, she realized it was dusk, and the sun was already setting.

How long has she been here?

Pushing that thought aside, she closed the curtains and carried her bag, then stepped out of the tower, locking the doors with the key Leonardo gave her. The maid patiently waited for her, and the both of them finally left.

Esme quietly followed the maid back into the grand palace, and she was guided to the spacious dining hall, where Lennox, Dahmer, and a few unfamiliar faces were seated. She found it odd the closer she got to the table – she hadn’t sat at a dining table in a long time, and the idea of eating in front of so many faces made her undergo a sudden withdrawal.

She had learned to mask her nervousness, and she held her head high as she moved with graceful steps.

Leonardo stood behind Lennox, and their gaze darted to Esme’s approaching figure. She lowered her head in a polite bow, greeting everyone before quietly taking her seat. All eyes were on her as she focused on her plate, which was quickly filled with delicious food.

"Are you feeling alright?" Lennox asked, his voice gentle and soothing as always, and Esme assured him of her well-being with a polite nod. As everyone at the table began to eat, Esme recalled Leonardo’s remark at the inn. She was mindful of her manners, even taking note of which spoon or fork everyone carried and following their footsteps, thus, the meal continued in silence.

When they finished, an elderly man with gray hair and a naturally stern expression rose from his chair to speak.

"Your Majesty, shouldn’t the recent attack on the Therondia pack be seen as a sign?" He asked, the alarm in his tone palpable. "That demon must be responsible, and who knows where they’ll strike next! Isn’t it odd that after the son of Zephyr was put to sleep, peace prevailed in Illyria? But now that he has awoken, the massacre we worked so hard to prevent is happening again. We must find a way to lure that demon back into sleep before more lives are taken!" he urged.

A noble woman nodded in agreement, "I say we should call on that sorcerer again, the one who was able to put him to sleep before," she suggested. "I’m sure it won’t be so easy this time around, but if we can succeed, Illyria might finally know peace once more. The late Alpha Damon is no longer alive to keep us protected, so we’ll have to handle this problem ourselves. If only he had left behind an older son rather than a daughter – at least then, his legacy of eliminating demon shifters would have continued." she picked up her juice and took a sip.

A vein pulsed in Dahmer’s forehead at the thinly veiled insult, but he knew better than to challenge the council members of Illyria. Leonardo noticed how she indirectly tried to ridicule the Montagues, and he butted in.

"What’s the chance that if we put him to sleep, he won’t wake up again?" He asked. "You’re quite fond of offering temporary solution, Miss Donna, but that isn’t what the king needs to hear right now," he silenced her with a frown. "Besides, no one knows who really caused the attack. Donovan wasn’t there when it happened."

"He’s a demon whose father was killed by the Therondia’s," another member of the council added with a thoughtful hum. "And the therondia pack was invaded days after his escape. Naturally, he’d want revenge."

He leaned forward on the table. "If we don’t act soon, he’ll take over Illyria before we know it. We assumed that they were extinct, but they’ve been hiding all this time, waiting for the right moment. The longer we delay, the more damages will be done to our land. We need to gather all the Alphas in Illyria and inform them of the true situation. They’ve been asking questions, and as the council, we must respond — under the king’s authority, of course."

"Call all the Alpha’s together tomorrow," Lennox ordered. "We’ll hold the meeting then. I’ll decide our course of actions after hearing what everyone has to say on the matter."

The council’s protest hung on their lips, and they reluctantly nodded, dissatisfied with their king’s suggestion. Esme could only listen in silence, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, noticing the coucils attention were more fixed on her short hair.

"Your Majesty!" A guard suddenly rushed in, a look of pure alarm in his face as he reported. "Your Majesty, forgive my intrusion but young Finnian is awake, and... you need to see this for yourself." he lowered his head in a bow.

At the mere mention of Finnian, Esme sprang to her feet, a look of relief in her eyes.

"Finnian’s awake?" She didn’t wait for the guard to respond and darted towards her brother’s room instead, eager to confirm the truth for herself. The others quickly followed.

Esme made it to his room first, her eyes already brimming with hope as she prayed that the guard was right. She opened the door in a rush and entered.

"Finnian?"

In a matter of seconds, the excitement on her face vanished when she saw Finnian on his knees on the floor beside the bed. He held a pair of bloodied scissors, which he raised and mercilessly plunged into the chest of the guard who was with him. His long hair curtained his face, shadowing it from view, and with a terrifying slowness, he turned his head to face Esme, who was rendered frozen at the spot, shock draining the colors on her face. Her eyes locked in terror.