The beast inside him roared in pain when he felt the hot flashes take up his entire body.
Razhal needed no one to tell him he's been hit by a curse.
He has heard about it, of the strange miasma that was spreading like plague, moving from region to region, pack to pack.
The sorcerer in castle rock had told him to be wary of it since it targets wolves with strong bloodlines and makes a mess of their head, turning them to mindless rogues.
At first Razhal had wanted to confront the disease personally, but the council put their foot down with the excuse that it would be too dangerous for him and his powerful Lycan blood.
But today he had met with one and the thing hurts like hell.
The skin on his arms turned red like fire was moving through it rather than blood. His claws kept retracting and extending back again, along with his canines. Blood oozed out from his ears and nose, as if death was trying to pull him into an abyss.
He had no control of his body, which meant his consciousness was fleeing from him.
Razhal Yuma Ozell felt the end, but at the same time he thought only a fool would let himself be trapped by something he couldn't see.
"I know nothing of this curse…and it must have nothing to do with me"
Those were the words he muttered underneath his breath before bringing a clawed hand down on his laps. It struck deep and his grunt turned feral as he tried to contain his voice.
The Lycan king twisted the sharp claws causing it to dig deeper and within seconds blood began to spurt out of the gash. It was black and smelled foul.
The more blood that gushed out the more relief he felt. Truly the ancient ways were still divine; Let the wicked out and peace reigns supreme.
He let out a deep laugh that reverberated all over the dinghy tunnel, letting the evil know that he indeed had won, as always.
"You might try harder next time…but make sure I do not catch you first" he spoke to the open air, as if he was aware of the strange creatures watching him from their hidden corners.
They've been there to ensnare and trap him, but none expected for Razhal to maneuver out of the trap. Never have any wolf been able to fight off the curse of Adargon, and it further proved the King of the wolves was sure a different breed.
"Let's go before he sees" the leader amongst them proceeds to disappear and the rest did the same.
The sound of movement at the entrance to the tunnel alerted him. It was only Hezine.
"Anything the matter, Alpha?" the beautiful Lycan asked.
"Nothing. Just some random disturbance" he replied.
The man showed no sign of worry, as if he knew such a thing was nothing to the pale Lycan.
Only the Goddess was capable of taking the life of Razhal, but even she wouldn't find the task easy.
"I doubt it was nothing my King. my mind tells me they've been laying in wait on your arrival…"
"So you imply there's a mole in the palace. Amongst my warriors and trusted subjects…?" Razhal snapped.
The tall giant waited a brief moment before answering. It was obvious Razhal was getting worked up, and he wasn't prepared to fight him.
"All I am saying is that…wolfs will always choose interests that better align with their beliefs, not minding any pending loyalty they may have held. It is not off to think of the worst in such situation…don't you believe so?"
The King replied with a growl only when he knew exactly who the fellow was talking about. He stood back up with his earlier wound completely healed and gone. The Lycan took long strides away from the dreadful tunnel, bypassing Hazine and walked into the outskirts of the village.
"We are done here I suppose?" his tone had gone back to being normal, husky and without strain. Hazine hesitated again even as he trailed behind the imposing man.
"They found something buried at the borders."
"And why should this 'something' be a concern to me?"
He was preparing to shift into his wolf, seeing as his human body had been weakened by the curse. The beast in him was throbbing and clamoring to be released. But in such feral state Razhal needed to be away from every breathing creature before giving up control. Zeus was a Lycan of bad temper.
"But it greatly concerns you your Majesty. Believe me when I say it…" Razhal sighed and quickly turns to the nagging man.
"If it's that important then bring it along to castle rock. I am done with this cursed place and would want nothing than raze it all down to the ground. But of course I won't do it…so that flippant tongues do not begin to wag again."
Not waiting to know if the fellow heard him or not, the King took off on foot towards the forest facing the east which was certainly not the direction to the palace. A guttural howl could be heard a few minutes later, indicating the ancient Lycan was now in control.
****
Verona was weak and almost nearing her end. It's already been two days since she began this punishment.
Two days without food nor water. Two days without knowing the comfort of a bed. Two days tied up like an animal...It was pure torture.
Never did she ever think her mouth was capable of knowing such great thirst and hunger. It was like her insides were starting to revolt against her, protesting their anger and asking her to undo what she'd done.
Night was upon the palace and yet again people were beginning to retire from the struggles of the day.
Beta Oberion checked on her as he usually does every night and without speaking a word, he also departed into the castle building.
The once fiery redhead who was now exhausted wanted to curse at him, to regal him with many choice words of her choosing. But that would require energy, of which she had none.
Verona heard a rustle in the woods that directly faced the clearing. She suspected it to be some mischievous animal looking for prey but when the rustling became louder, her heart began to beat in fear.
"Who is there…?" she forced her mouth to speak despite how weak it sounded. Her question was not answered, making the fear increase. Was it a rogue that had found a way into the palace undetected? The thought made her sweaty and her tongue heavy.
"Who the hell is there? show yourself or remain a coward!" The rustling stopped and it turned into a game of waiting. She very well knew the intruder was still there, and could feel it in her guts.
Slowly a portion of the forest parted and the first thing that caught her eye was a pair of silver eyes watching her.
Since the forest was dark and without any light, the red orbs stood out even more. Verona knew it was a beast. A beast with the stench of blood hovering around it.
This wolf was different from the one she saw in her vision. It starred at her in curiosity rather than the accusation that lined the eyes of the one from that night.
The Luna wanted to scream for help for It would be a shame for her to be mauled and killed by some passing wolf, while she was bound hands and foot to a stake.
As if it heard her, the beast made a sound. A small snarl that sounded like a death rattle. In Verona's head she was sure the creature sees her as a meal, only bidding its time before pouncing on her.
Very slowly something began to creep up her legs. It was moving under her bones like liquid, eliciting shivers down her spine but she couldn't see anything. Soon enough it entered her stomach and quickly spread all over the rest of her body.
The beast snarled again and her body burned along with it's voice. Amidst her sweat and her raging heartbeat she realized what was happening; it seemed to be the effects of a possible mate bond.
Verona was likely staring into the eyes of her Fated Mate.