His Accidental Luna

HIS WRATH

CHAPTER 6: HIS WRATH

She should of have been happy. After all, Devon find her mate. But why does there’s a pang on her chest that she couldn’t brush off? Was this because when she regain her consciousness again, Helga, the one who look after her, although she’s kind of hostile, informed Devon that Tarik had an urgent matter to attend to. She didn’t exactly elaborate what would it be, and she knew that Helga wouldn’t answer her question as she pry more longer.

“Tarik.” Just that mere action of uttering his name bring her close to her mate.

Devon barely knew him, but same as what her mother told her before, she felt like her world already revolves around the male.

She softly smiled.

“I wish you a safe trip, Tarik.” She whispered softly, gently hoping for him to arrive soon as this bond is getting her sullen the more they keep apart.

It’s weird...but Devon kind of like the feeling.

She was at that state, when Helga found her.

“What are you smiling at?” She raised her eyebrows and eyed the discarded broom on the floor. “And why are you not cleaning the barn, rogue?”

Panic seize her. Reckless, Devon quickly grab the broom she put on her side and hug it close to her chest. Her trance ruin. The daydreams, which she unfold hid back at the deepest part of her head upon the sudden appearance of her.

Speak of the devil’s name and she shall appear.

She gulps.

“I—I was just—” She stammered helplessly.

The words would just came out in a mess—inaudible nervousness she couldn’t suppress as Helga’s presence intimidate her greatly. She couldn’t comprehend why, when in fact, Devon haven’t had any idea where clan she came from, nor what may have been her rank. But her wolf, it was cowering, succumbed at the fear that both she and her couldn’t understand.

She hangs her head low when she felt her glare.

“I’m sorry.” She gnawed her bottom lips.

Her hold tightened, when she heard her clicked her tongue.

“Don’t laze around.” She warned her in a dangerous tone. “Be grateful that I have taken you and your friend under my wing, if it wasn’t for young master, I would have throw you outside like I should be because I am breaking the law of our Kingdom.”

What she said was in fact true. To aid a rogue would means imprisonment, banish from the kingdom as it is equal into betraying what one wolf ought for. The bond you had as a member of a pack would be taken away, reap and destroyed. It will be more than the pain from the rejection as it will stripped you away from everything you had—the family you can entrust, the kingdom as your home and the sanity that would came derange as no wolf could bear the anguish and torment they are going to suffer from.

But that wasn’t what caught Devon’s attention.

She quickly lifted her head in spite of the fear she felt.

“My friend?” She asked.

She could have not been mistaken!

Helga said friend, and only one person came into her mind the moment she said those words.

‘Jasper.’ She thought.

 After the attack took place, an aftermath that lead for her to encounter her mate, she had almost forgotten about him. A sudden churn reeled her stomach. The guilt erupted and ventured towards her chest. She was too lost to even recall that she wasn’t alone either way. If Helga had not reminded her, would she remember that she wasn’t the only one expose to the danger, where she had been afflicted from?

She shrugged away those thoughts, and hid the guilt, burying it deep inside of her. Regardless of, the thought continue to bottled Devon nonstop.

“What?” Helga crossed her arms, and raised her eyebrows at her sudden question.

“You said my friend.” Devon muster her courage. “Was it Jasper—”

“How can I know a rogue’s name?” She cut her off.

“But—”

“Stop asking some questions already.” She clicked her tongue.

Devon cowered.

“I—I am just worried.” She said softly

But Helga did not pay any heed.

“Then clean this whole goddamn barn, rogue.” ‘stead of, she turned her back and marched to where the door was.

She could hear her soft footfalls. Her heavy footsteps as it indicates that she was leaving. Left with no choice, Devon heaved a deep sigh and began cleaning the floor. She picked up the pail left discarded on the ground, when she heard her calls.

“Rogue.” It was Helga.

Had she come back? Or had she forgotten something?

She thought that she was just hearing some things, yet the moment she lifted her head, she saw her familiar silhouette. Her large frame was leaning onto the doorway. A deep frown was far itched on her face, and her orbs, somehow Devon couldn’t read what she was thinking. The expression on her face never change, but her are eyes looms far, unreadable.

Devon waited for her to speak.

Their eyes meet.

“He’s alive.” And that’s the only thing she said before she turned her back and leave.

“Huh?” Confusion filled her.

Baffled, and curious whom she might have been pertaining to, when realization drawn to her. Relief washed over her face. Her lips erupted into a small smile. She might have seen the worries that plastered itself on her face earlier.

“Perhaps, it might not had been bad to stay here, right?” Unconsciously, her wolf agreed.

That doesn’t mean she isn’t intrigued about what change Helga’s mind. And what may have been the cause of her behaviour to treat her differently, although she knew, deep within, regardless of her action, she actually cares for her...and to Jasper, whom she had not seen yet.

Despite of, she is contented knowing already that Jasper is alright. What she is worried now was Lily and Ali, who might have been wondering where they had gone from.

DEVONSHIRE KINGDOM

[TARIK IVANOV DEVONSHIRE THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW]

“Did you find out how did the hunters penetrated on the capital?” His face stern.

Cold orbs bore towards the warriors on guard that day. His facade may have appear calm, and compose, but the brewing catalyst he had been holding earlier upon his arrival to the Kingdom cause fear. Every wolf could smell his madness, and the angst fury fuelled by something they couldn’t understand.

It was the first time that they witness how the second born Prince express how infuriated he has become. His handsome face, the cold demeanour and anger that ought silent punishment without mercy for whoever would dare to go against him. They knew what he is capable of. If Augustus were being trained to rule for his reign, Tarik has been built through wars, and frayed skirmish tussled, which made him strong. A self taught warrior who suffered many losses, run after death and smeared blood on his palms in order to bring the balance that the Devonshire are thriving upon.

Shadows loom on his orbs. Whenever the memoirs of what took place, and her state—he couldn’t stop himself, uncontrolled emotions would brimmed. And he could have sworn to behead those hunters of they had not slipped from his grasp. It infuriated him greatly. His wolf sneered, it growled, ferocious. When they felt her pain, they had almost lost themselves. The vivid image of her cause both fear he didn’t know what the feeling was before.

“Y—your highness.” It was the head of the warriors, Alec. “We never felt their presence l—”

“Are you telling me that you are incompetent in your position, warrior?” His voice thunder.

It booms, and the growls that which came from his lips almost made the ground shook.

“Y-your highness!” Every single wolf who are present at that time tremble.

Scared, and terrified, they lowered their head and exposed their neck in an utter submission. It was an act of submitting towards his authority.

That was the scene that his mother saw the moment she stepped towards the throne room.

“Tarik!” Appalled, Queen Nerissa calls for the attention of his son.

It was the first time, whom she saw him so mad. It was the madness same as the flame setting ablaze, and ready to devour whoever may try to ease it. He is her son, but even she...felt scared, because she knew that his madness encompasses even the passion he felt deeply for her as his mother. He may not intentionally harm her, but something embedded on depth as it lie dormant would seek for the aggrieved scathe the moment his anger intensified.

Their eyes meet.

“Tarik, what was the problem?” Careful, she asked.

Nerrisa were strolling on the courtyard, when one of the servant beg for her presence. They told her that their second Prince is mad, and they couldn’t tell why. But seeing him, and meeting those dark irises, where no light is present, her stomach dropped.

“Hunters.” He clenched his jaw.

She noticed that his chest were heaving erratically, his shoulders are both tense, controlling something he couldn’t as she knew what was it. The beast he couldn’t name of. The beast, who should not have lived, bygone for ages, yet never vanish.

The memory flashed before her eyes.

“You cannot give birth during the red moon, your highness!” Fearful, one of the oldest member of the council bow his head.

His face contorted, terrified at something both her and her mate could understand.

“But I can hold on much longer.” She winced, squeezing the King’s hand as another surge of pain torment her.

“But the prophecy—!”

She looks torn, helpless, Nerrisa lifted her head to look at her spouse, who have the same expression on his face. He is a strong man, a wolf look up by many. He was admired for the reign, which maintain both the balance and peace among the three Kingdom, which passed the law for whoever they rule. Their territory and the truce that were keep in place.

However, there is a prophecy that were foresaw long before he meet her.

He gaze at her and softly cupped her cheeks. Unconsciously, she whimpered at the mere touch and the warmth coming from his palms.

“Can you make it?” He gently asked.

“I don’t think so.” She whispered back to him.

“Then, it settled.” He declared.

“But your majesty, what about the prophecy?”

One look, and that force the old man into submission.

“I am just worried—”

The King cut him off.

“If my mate dies, would you be held accountable?” He do not look mad, but the authority on his voice made the old man to tremble.

“Y—your majesty!”

“Those who would be against what I say would be beheaded before the dusk.” His voice boomed. “Prepare the chamber and summon the priestess for the delivery of the second born Prince.”

Nobody dared to say anything, nor go against the King’s words. They comply, but even He, when his eyes landed towards the blood coloured moon preparing to take its reign beyond on the vast sky, he knew what would be the consequences of the birth that his hate would have.

The second born could be the calamity foresaw before, or he could be the one fated to stop upcoming bloodshed that would take away many lives of wolves. The war that would yet to come between the 3 Kingdom. The peace replaced by bloodbath, and the Kingdom who once flourish would suffer.

They say, it was the birth of the curse.

She quickly shook her head at the sudden memories.

“The hunters?” She composed herself and began to step to where he was.

“Mother.” Tarik warned her.

But the Queen stand firmly on her feet. She did not submit, she looks straight at him. His wolf did not like it, the growl she matched seems to ease his anger.

“I am your mother.” She bravely uttered. “And you won’t speak to me like that, Tarik.”

She was bold, and she can see that the darkness on his eyes are slowly easing away until it vanish, but Nerissa knew that it won’t take long before whatever that lies on his core would be able to breakthrough from its imprisonment.

He closed his eyes and rub his temples.

“I’m sorry—” He opened his eyes, it was back towards the same orbs he had. “—mother.”

She had never felt relieved than she is right now to see the same Tarik, who grew up under her care.

“Now—” When Nerissa get closer, she reach out to touch his cheeks, but he turned away. But she was quick enough to hide the hurt expression that came on her face. “—What cause for your anger, Tarik?” Her hand fell on her sides.

“You wouldn’t understand.” He said before walking away from his mother, his eyes had a far away look and Nerissa’s maternal instinct told her that something is bothering.

“Then, make me understand.” She firmly said. “I am your mother. There’s no such thing that I won’t be able to understand, especially when it comes to you and Augustus. Both of you are my son.”

There is a moment of silence that lies between them.

“Then—” He looks unsure, he had a deep frown on his forehead. “—would you grant my favour if I ask not to join the tradition, mother?”

“Tarik, I...” That caught her off guard. She looks at her. “What....what change your mind, son? You know it’s been part of our kingdom—”

“I guess so.” The words he uttered is cold.

He walked to where she was and planted a soft lingering kiss on his forehead.

Instinctively, she closed her eyes, but what does it felt like....she couldn’t feel the same warm he had always save for her?

“Tarik...” Nerissa uttered before he turned his back and leave.

Gone from her sight, she bring her palms to her chest.

‘What change of heart had cause for you to act this way, son?’ She whispered inside her head, but her questions remain unanswered.

To defy the tradition would mean a shame for the kingdom. It was like disobeying the law, and turning away from the Goddess who had long before created their race. It was one of the most unforgivable sin she wouldn’t be able to save Tarik if that happens.

Now that she was slowly seeing the beast taking over to how it was prophesied before. The curse, who should not live. The birth that isn’t supposed to happen, because it will result to chaos, the calamity uprooted bloodshed of the three Kingdoms.

@cycy