Cursed To The Alpha

Chapter 70

In a matter of moments, Janie emerges from the surrounding landscape, her eyes wide with relief mixed with concern as she gazes down at me, the realisation that I have just woken up washing over her features. Behind her, Imogen and Xander appear, their expressions mirroring her relief.

‘Where have you been, Rose? We’ve been searching desperately for you. I thought something may have happened,’ Janie says, staring down at me, realising I’ve just woken up.

Xander and Imogen appear behind her, relieved to see I’m okay, but I can also sense Xander's anger mixed in with his relief.

‘Don’t tell me you slept here all night by yourself?’ Janie says as she steps closer.

Xander crosses his arms. 'You can't wander off, Rose. Not only could you put yourself in trouble, but us,' he scowls.

'I'm sorry, I needed to be alone,' I reply quietly.

‘Rose, I’m taking a big risk bringing you here, and it also risks Imogen and Janie’s life. Remember, we are here doing you a favour because of your recklessness in drinking Janie’s potion,’ he says matter-of-factly.

I still myself at his words. I want to scream, cry and kick the nearby tree senseless to my heart’s content, but another part of me doesn’t want to reveal my inner pain. So instead, with eyes downcast. I look away.

'I understand, Xander,' I say, my voice barely above a whisper. 'I didn't mean to cause any trouble or put anyone in danger.'

His scowl softens slightly, an indication that he comprehends my remorse.

Janie's countenance softens as she takes in my tear-streaked eyes, a gentle understanding dawning upon her. She steps closer, her voice filled with genuine concern.

'Is it Brad?' she asks, her voice a tender embrace.

I rub my arms and nod.

'Will you be, okay?' she asks.

'I'll be alright, Janie. It's just painful to think about it all,' I say, quickly wiping the rogue tear that escaped before they could notice it. 'I know my heart has a lot of healing to do, but I honestly don't know if it can ever be fully repaired. Anything that's been broken and put back together still has visible cracks,' I sigh with a heavy heart. ‘We have a journey to resume,' I say, and with resolute steps, I walk past them, heading toward our campsite, now seeming farther than it appeared in the dim light of dawn.

Imogen and Janie glance at each other solemnly as they follow behind me.

In silence, we mount our Glowhorn stags. Xander breaks the silence as he lifts Janie to sit her before him on the saddle. Mister Kal leaps onto the back. ‘To Arcanwood, we now ride. We can rest the night at its local tavern. It will take us a day to get there, and we should arrive by nightfall. Let’s go,’ he says with a flick of his reins and a gentle nudge of his heels. Xander sets his stag into motion and gallops ahead. Imogen and I follow suit, our stags leaping forward with power and elegance.

As we gallop through verdant meadows and ancient woods, the landscape shifts around us, unveiling mystical wonders. Whispers of arcane energies dance in the air, intertwining with birds’ melodic chirping and leaves rustling. The world is truly alive, pulsating with magic.

Staring at the land in awe on my mount, my stomach rumbles, and I realise we haven’t had lunch yet. ‘Can we stop to eat and rest? I’m so hungry and need to stretch my legs before they start cramping,’ I complain to Xander.

‘I suppose we should have a break,’ he says, steering his glowhorn stag from the dirt path and into the nearby field of grass and flowers.

Imogen and I steer our stags and follow him. Xander stops by the edge of the meandering river under a tree. He gets Janie and himself down from their mount and retrieves a bag from the saddle sack. He then sits next to Janie, and they eat small cherry pies with scones, spreading jam on the tops. Imogen sits next to Janie, and I sit beside Imogen.

We quietly munch on our food and watch the zapperflies in the nearby flowers as they continue to zap wasp-like little creatures smaller than the zapperflies.

‘What are those creatures called?’ I ask Xander.

‘It’s a waspling. They are insectoid creatures resembling a wasp,’ Xander answers.

I nod and glance at them as they stand out with vibrant mustard-coloured bodies. Their transparent wings are a mesmerising blend of blue, green, and yellow hues, which enable the creature to manoeuvre with agility and precision during the fight. They have four arms that extend from their thorax and two legs. The most obvious feature is its large, bulbous stinger on its back.

I watch as one delivers a potent venom that immobilises a zapperfly. It has many eyes, at least five from what I can see from where I sit. They also have two antennae extending from their heads that curl at the tips. Strangely, they wear grey armour for extra protection. Each waspling carries a tiny spear, further emphasising its defensive capabilities.

Imogen cringes as a waspling is zapped by multiple zapperflies at once. We watch as the waspling drops to the ground in defeat. Mister Kal decides to jump through the grass and pounce at them until they all turn on him instead of each other and chase him. I can’t help but laugh as he receives a zap to his butt and meows a cry as he dashes back to Janie for safety.

‘Well, that will serve you right,’ Janie lectures him as he jumps into her lap. ‘Repeliate,’ she says, flinging her hands in the air. An invisible force throws the zapperflies and wasplings back in warning. They retreat to the flowers to continue their fight over the nectar.

My glowhorn stag has shuffled to the river to drink. Feeling parched, I approach my stag and retrieve my pouch of water. After a few sips, the wind whistles through my hair.

‘Beyond the scars that mar its form, a beast harbours a love that weathers any storm,’ I only manage to hear the whisper, thanks to my wolf ears, and then I hear another.

‘The beast’s growl masks a heart’s yearning for a love that mends and fuels its inner burning,’ the river whispers.

My ears perk, ‘Can any of you hear the whispering?’ I ask as I turn to face the others by the tree

‘No,’ Xander says.

‘Isn’t this the river of whispers, you told us about and showed us on your map?’ Imogen asks.

‘It is,’ Xander answers.

‘What can you hear?’ Janie asks, curious.

‘Beyond the scars that mar its form, a beast harbours a love that weathers any storm, and then I heard the beast’s growl masks a heart’s yearning for a love that mends and fuels its inner burning,’ I tell her.

‘What does that mean?’ she asks.

‘No idea, it’s probably nothing,’ I shrug.