Cursed To The Alpha

Chapter 100

As the sun ascends, majestic birds take flight from their nests, their melodious chirps filling the air. The world awakens, blissfully ignorant of the turmoil swirling within me.

As the conversation lingers in the air, a sudden rustling captures our attention. Warrick emerges from the depths of the woods, an enormous skinned and gutted animal draped over his shoulder. Xander and Orelious swiftly move to shield their mates' eyes from the sight of Warrick's nakedness.

Without sparing Warrick a glance, I toss his pants in his general direction, the fabric landing haphazardly on the ground. He casually tosses the hefty piece of meat onto the dwindling fire and slips on his trousers.

Feeling a wave of weariness wash over me, I wrap my arms around myself, the thought of being in close proximity to a monster far worse than Brad sending shivers down my spine. Deciding to distance myself, I rise from my spot and position myself between Imogen and Janie.

Warrick's brows furrow in confusion as his gaze follows my movements, but I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding direct contact. Despite my hunger, I refuse to acknowledge it. However, my rebellious stomach betrays me, emitting a loud growl.

‘The fire is almost out,’ Warrick says. ‘Surely one of you can use your fire magic to cook the meat, so my mate can eat?’ he says, his words carrying a touch of concern.

‘I’ll do it,’ Janie says. ‘Inferno Flamo,’ she shouts, flicking her hands to the meat she burns till it’s medium rare. ‘All done,’ she says, forcing a smile to help hide my discomfort.

Still keeping my eyes cast downward, I notice Warrick's gaze lingering on me as he realizes my lack of intention to eat. He tears off a strip of meat and approaches me. 'It's crucial for werewolves to nourish their bodies, to sustain their energy levels. Without proper sustenance, you won't be able to utilize your already impressive speed and agility, which can serve as your defence until you fully shift into a werewolf,' he explains, his voice gentle, extending the meat toward me.

I reluctantly take the meat with a trembling hand, ‘I’m not a werewolf, I’m human, and I don’t intend on fully shifting, but fully reversing back into my human state, but thank you for the meat anyway,’ I whisper the last part.

Warrick remains rooted in place, his gaze unwavering, but I deliberately keep my eyes averted. 'Did something occur while I was hunting?' he asks, his tone laced with concern.

‘Nothing happened, Warrick. I’m just disappointed we didn’t get the fox through the night. You might enjoy being a werewolf, but in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t enjoy it,’ I reply, finally summoning the courage to meet his gaze, my eyes burning with anger. Defiantly, I sink my teeth into the meat, tearing off a chunk.

His jaw clenches, and he claims the spot where I had been sitting on the log.

Above, the sky stretches out in a vast expanse adorned with the brilliance of an unobstructed sun. Its warmth caresses my skin amidst the turmoil. With a contented stomach, I turn my attention to Xander. 'Perhaps we should consider setting traps throughout the woods. We might have a chance at capturing a fox during the day,' I suggest.

'We can try some magical traps,' Xander replies, considering the proposition.

'You'd be wasting your time,' Warrick interjects. 'Blossom foxes are nocturnal creatures. Your best chance of catching one is at night,' he informs us.

I feel my frustration building and kick at the dirt beneath me in irritation. 'Of course, they can only be captured at night—just my luck,' I mutter, a tinge of bitterness lacing my words.

A surge of emotions threatens to overwhelm me. I yearn to curl into a ball, clutch my fluffy tail, and let the tears flow freely. However, I suppress the urge. Instead, I storm off toward the nearby river, shedding my boots and rolling up my pant legs. I perch on the riverbank, dangling my legs and feet over the water's edge, basking in the calming presence of the flowing current.

The scent of Warrick permeates the air, his presence reaching me before I even hear his footsteps. My heart pounds within my chest, its rapid rhythm leaving me uncertain whether it's fear of him or the effect of our mate bond.

'I'd rather be alone,' I assert, my voice steady as I keep my back towards him.

'I'd rather not be alone,' he responds, his voice laced with longing.

As he settles down next to me, I notice that he, too, has rolled up the legs of his pants. Our thighs brush against each other, and a warm, fuzzy current sparks between us. Sensing the intensity of the moment, I swiftly rise to my feet and move a few meters downstream, resuming my position with my feet immersed in the cool water.

'You're afraid of me?' Warrick asks cautiously, his voice filled with genuine concern.

‘I'm not afraid of you,’ I retort, trying to maintain a sense of distance. ‘I simply don't want to be near you.’

'Why?' he probes gently.

‘You know why, Warrick. The less time we spend together, the less we learn about each other, the better. All I want from you is my blossom fox flower. Then you can have your freedom of frolicking around fields of flowers and flufflehorns while I return home and be a human again,’ I tell him.

'It's not freedom if my mate isn't by my side,' he responds solemnly. 'It's a curse in itself,' he adds in a whisper as if the weight of those words threatens to overwhelm him.

'Then what do you plan to do when I return home?' I inquire, genuinely curious.

'I have unfinished business with the mystic council,' he reveals.

'But shouldn't you be trying to evade the council? Won't they bind you back in the woods?' confusion colours my words.

'The council may be the most powerful and ancient wizards in Felderia, but they lack the ability to cast the binding spell. Only the most potent warlocks and witches, namely Xander and Gretchen, possess that capability. I suspect Xander plans to lay low with his mate in your world before returning. Without him, Gretchen won't be able to bind me again.] he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of strategy.

'What do you plan to do to the council members?' I cautiously ask, a sense of dread lingering within me.

Warrick's gaze shifts from the river to me, his eyes locking onto mine. 'What do you think I plan on doing?' he challenges, his words causing me to flinch.

I stare back at him with evident discomfort. I know deep down he intends to kill them, but I can’t say it.

'If you believe I intend to kill them, then you're correct,' he declares, his voice devoid of remorse. 'I suppose you think that would make me a monster, too?' he adds, his words laden with a bitter undertone.

'I never said that,' I reply, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping to ease the tension.

'You didn't have to,' he remarks before abruptly standing up and walking away, leaving me to grapple with my conflicting emotions.