His Accidental Luna

DUTIES COME WITH A PRICE

CHAPTER 9: DUTIES COME WITH A PRICE

Devon gazed at Jasper’s state rather solemnly. She couldn’t dismissed the worry she had for her friend. His wounds doesn’t look serious, nor severe, but it’s been two days, whereas he haven’t gotten his consciousness yet unlike her or perhaps, her healing became much faster because of her mate? But ‘stead of the thought to soothe her worries, it only added to her distress.

She haven’t seen him. Tarik had not showed up during those days and so her heart ache. Devon couldn’t keep her questions at bay. Her head filled with doubts, scenarios wherein she could see Tarik, disgusted to find out that she was a rogue.

It hurts. It pained her to see the vivid expression far itched on his face.

Devon quickly shook her head off and disregard those thoughts away. It only made the pain to get worst leaving for her wolf to whimper and that’s not what she needed right of the moment.

Her gaze move back to Jasper.

“I hope for you to be alright soon, Jas.” Devon bit her lips. “I’m sorry...”

She felt guilty.

Some part of her still blamed her for what happened, although Devon had not ask for this. If only she had refused to go where the market was, would the hunters find them? No. But that doesn’t reassured her, because one way or another, their path would collide, and she knew what end it may have offered.

She couldn’t understand.

They are wolves. Borne from the same breathen, ancestors of the same blood where they came from, yet why—why bloodshed exist, when peace could have been maintain? Why settled to what doom is capable of, when they can choose not to? It’s hard to understand. Was it all about the power and authority thrive for each pack? The Devonshire Kingdom, The Motherland Salem, and the Reinsworth Kingdom although passed their decree and law above their own people, it could still never stop those vile creatures, who do not identify what wasn’t supposed to, but do the deeds and will of their own desire.

Same as the pack to where Devon came from.

The sudden thought replace her guilt with the hate she keep for so long. The grudge she hid on her chest that lay dormant, but awake. It made both of her and her wolf to feel the fury she knew what fuelled—their accusation, their greed and the fact that they had turned blind eye when they could have save her parents. It was like a trigger that’s when provoke it will brew storm, uncontrolled emotions she carries with her when she was disown by her own pack and Alpha.

Devon heard the door creaked. At that exact moment, the darkness that cast shadows on her orbs disappeared. Lilac coloured eyes met Helga’s emerald green orbs, which often remind her of the forest she thrive, the wilderness as she explored in depth and so have herself lost to what it can offer. They were a beautiful pair, which perfectly suit her.

This is the first time that Devon studied her appearance.

Helga had this mole underneath her left eye, a chinky shaped eyes in reminder of a fox, whereas her eyelashes curved up in an arch as if they were ready to sail among the waves that the vast ocean offered. She have a small nose, and a soft plump lips, her cheeks reddened into a natural blush, which perhaps cause by her long stay to where they are. The heat on this part was bearable, but sure enough could left a tan towards somebody who have a pale complexion if exposed. Most wolves are, unlike vampires who have a papery white coloured skin. It was because they were undead—living for ages, and feeding for blood in order to survive.

“I didn’t expect for you to be here.” That was the first thing she said, when her gaze landed to Devon.

She looked surprised but she somehow manage to masked and ease her expression as quickly as she had. Devon quickly stood up. She almost quite forgot that she had not been permitted yet to visit Jasper. She had not ask Helga and she was afraid about a harsh remark she might throw at her.

“I—I—” She stammered.

Same as before, her expectations failed her. Instead of, Helga had not castigated her action or what she have done.

“If you are going to apologize—” She doesn’t sound mad. “Keep it to yourself, rogue.”

Her words isn’t sharp. It was odd.

This made Devon to sealed her lips shut as she trained her eyes to her.

Helga walked closer to where Jasper was. Unconscious as he lies, while Helga hovered above him. Devon watched, wondering though, fathomable idea heedless anticipation about what she’s planning to.

“What are you going to do?” She couldn’t help, but asked.

Nevertheless, Devon had not earned any response yet from the latter.

Helga seems focus when she raised both of her palms. A light travelled across, it was blinding. Yearning to look, but she couldn’t, Devon shield her eyes using her arms. She squinted, blink as she lost count, but she can still make a shape out of it. Helga’s back were turned against her, but she can see her actions. The light on her palms trekked to her friend. Same as the light, Jasper’s entire body is glowing. His skin vibrant, and as she look more closer and stared more, Devon could see the sudden shift. This time, his appearance appeared somewhat....it was as if he’s been healed from whatever was causing him torment.

Slowly, the light ease. When it does, realization dawn onto her.

“You are a healer.” Devon exclaimed.

She isn’t bewildered, but she sounded more surprised than Helga was the moment she found her here in this room. Now it explain why she looks more younger than what her age was. It was if the time she had already cease, stop, suppress as healers had the ability to stop aging the moment they turned on their 30th.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” Helga feel the pulse on Jasper’s wrist. She looks satisfied, nodding her hear at something that Devon haven’t bad any idea about.

Devon waited.

“How was he?”

“He is stable for now. I have extracted the remnants of wolfs bane that had fractured most of his organs—”

But she cut her off, the moment she realized it. Her mouth run big than her head.

“W—wolfs bane?” Disbelief were written all over Devon’s face.

She felt all the air on her lungs has been knock out. What Helga unconcealed and revealed right in front result for her knees to get weak. Her legs wobbled. Devon has been caught of guard. The worries replaced by anxiety that ruptured her chest, its grip, and clutched painfully that made it harder for her to breathe.

“H—how?” Emotions brimmed in a whirlpool on her eyes.

There are things, a lot of that could harm a werewolf. It fell into categories, but there are two things that most of them grew wary of: it was silver and wolfs bane.  Silver burn their skin. The mere touch could leave a mark, and to heal a wound that cause by such thing could take a while. It was painful, it was ban from the whole Kingdom, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist at all, especially during slave trades and black markets that were beyond the Devonshire Kingdom’s ruling system. It was illegal. Those who had proven to sell silvers could either end up being banish, punish or an imprisonment that could last until they die or until they live unless it has been lowered.

Next to silver was a wolfs bane. It was a poison  extracted from a particular plant that were often found onto the deepest pit of each woods. To find it wouldn’t mean much easier, unless it was grew, mowed until it flourish. And they knew who had the guts to keep the plants under their wings, it was the hunters who never believed about the law and defy the code that the Kingdom has. They harmed those whom they think should be even without proper judgement.

To think that Jasper has been exposed to such thing had terribly made the fear churned Devon’s stomach.

“You don’t need to worry.” Helga glanced at her. “I have handled it already.”

Then that explains why Jasper had not regain his consciousness yet.

“When will he woke up?” She gnaw her bottom lips, the anxious feeling express on her face.

“When he recovered quickly which I assumed he would now that ever drop of poison has been remove from his body already.” Helga explain.

What she said had attest Devon’s worried. It ease the mortified feeling and the paranoia, the fear of losing a friend had reminded her of what she lost in the past.

“T—thank you.” Genuine, Devon uttered, holding her hand clasped together on her chest to keep herself from launching to Helga and engulf her into a tight embrace.

“Tch. It’s no big deal.” Her expression hardened. It was as if the softness she had earlier has been masked out, the facade he carries to not expose who she really was. “I am just doing this because of what the young master wants.”

“Still—” Devon smiled softly. “I will always be truly grateful for what you have done.”

“Whatever, rogue.” Helga rolled her eyes before she began walking to where the door was.

Nonetheless, Devon could have sworn she saw a small smile the stretched her lips that moment before she disappear. She keep it all to herself, and what she said was true. If instances came, she wouldn’t hesitate to repay her kindness with means that she did know of.

Devon walked closer to Jasper.

She hold his hand and gave it a light squeeze.

“Please wake up soon, Jas.” She whispered softly. Tears brimmed at her eyes as she cries, wishing silently and hoping for Jasper’s fast recovery and if he does, they would be able to reconciled with Lily and Ali, whom she knew had been looking and wondering what may have happened to the two of them.

DEVONSHIRE KINGDOM [YSABELLA ELLA PENELOPE CONRAD THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW]

Ysabella was facing the vanity mirror, where her reflections stared back at her.

It was earlier that morning, when they are informed that the Queen wanted to gather each women that were sent in the Palace to partake to the Devonshire Kingdom’s tradition.

“Are you nervous?” Matilde asked as she noticed that Ysabella’s has a frown far itched on her face as she combed her hair.

“No, I’m not.” The latter shook of her head.

Her blonde hair, which had been naturally curled were tucked behind in a high bun. It left some strands to hangs loosely behind her nape and exposing her neck decorated by jewelleries, a family heirloom necklace where their name were engrave, Conrad. It suits her paleness, while clad on a extravagant dress that filled her curves with the corset to emphasize her waits and her torso. Ysabella looks beautiful, the pride of her pack, but she doesn’t...feel happy at all.

“Is something bothering you again?” Matilde pry before doing the final touches. She added some diamonds, which sparkled as it bask onto the luminesce, which is seeping from the wide opened window right to the room in expanse of how the Royal bloods treated their guest with utmost care.

“I am still torn, Matilde.” Ysabella admitted. “I don’t want to disappoint my parents, but at the same time, I don’t want to be here. It feels wrong, but I am afraid.”

“Young lady.” Matilde could feel her sadness and to see Ysabella, the woman who grew up under her care at this state saddens her more.

“I have duties, I know.” She bitterly gaze at her reflection. “But was it worth it to sacrifice the freedom I had, the mate I haven’t meet yet, and the happiness that I wanted to experience once on my life, Matilde?”

“Duties come with a price, young lady.” It was the only thing that Matilde could say.

She do not know how can she console her. What has been done couldn’t be redeemed. This is where she was made for, refined to fulfil what she is supposed to, in spite of what it will or might cost her. Her happiness in exchange of peace, the balance that this realm are thriving upon for ages.

“I know.” Ysabella solemnly replied.

“But it wasn’t sure yet, there are 5 of you or there would be more, there’s no assurance that you would be chosen, young lady.” Matilde in an attempt to cheered her on added.

“But there is no assurance that I wouldn’t be chosen as well.” Ysabella chuckled. She turns around and hide the pain expression she had and so Matilde wouldn’t be worried for more. “Don’t worry, if that ever happens, I know—you know me, I would be able to bear with it, Matilde.”

“Young lady—”

However, Matilde haven’t had the time to finish her words, when a sudden knock coming from the door interfere. As it was pushed opened, it revealed an old man who seems to be fairly working in the castle.

“My apologies, if I may have intrude, young lady.” He express his respect, before he straightened up his built.

“Not at all.” Ysabella reassured him.

The man composed himself.

“I was here to inform you that the halls are prepared and so the Queen and the King are both waiting for your arrival.”

“I’ll followed suit. Thank you.” Ysabella curtsied, and so the man before he close the door as he leaves.

Ysabella glanced back at her reflection before she hauled herself up and began walking to where the old man had gone from.

“Let’s go.” She said, and Matilde followed suit.

THE DEVONSHIRE KINGDOM HALLS

Meanwhile, as the women prepared, King Luther, the currently ruler of the Devonshire Kingdom noticed the unreadable expression on his spouse visage, Queen Nerissa, the second ruler of their Kingdom and his mate. She looks troubled. It was as of there is an unfathomable thoughts that keeps bothering her.

He reached out to squeeze her hand.

“What it is?” He softly asked.

She lifted her head. Queen Nerissa was frowning deeply.

“I am just worried.” She admitted, heaving a deep sigh afterwards. “I was meant to talk to you about our son, Tarik.”

“To what occurred between you and him?” The King pry.

“You knew?” It was the Queen’s turn to ask.

“There’s nothing this halls could hide me, my queen.” He chuckled. “I have ears and eyes around the palace.”

“Silly me.” Queen Nerissa matched her chuckles. “I tend to forgot that I am mated to a King.”

The servants who witnessed the exchange between the pair couldn’t help, but smile. Awestruck at the passion and affection brimming between the two rulers. Everybody knew that it hasn’t been easy. Their story, which suffered losses and death, a curse that laid out as a myth or so they thought.

Queen Nerissa was smiling, but the King was in fact right. She still couldn’t brush off those thoughts that keep her wide awake at night. Tarik is of age, and so Augustus, but what he was requesting isn’t something she could just speak of to her spouse. There would be troubles the moment that the Alpha who sent their daughters here found out that he desired not to continue with the custom they practice for so long. Not when there are eyes and ears around the Palace, and not everything could be entrusted.

“My queen—” The king calls for her. He brought her hand to his lips and planted a soft lingering kiss, which gently ease her worries and troubles. “You could share to me what troubles you had.” He said.

Nerissa’s heart fluttered, she couldn’t help herself but to be lost as she stared more deeply at Luther’s eyes. He reminds her of their own son. Tarik had gotten almost every features that the King has, from his eyes, his nose, and his lips. Even his temper. The thought made her chuckled before she cupped his cheeks.

“He looks so much like you, my king.” She said.

“Who?” The King smiled.

“Tarik and Augustus, but even so, I was hoping that they had not gotten your temper, but I think heavens really favour you more than I.” She pursed her lips, relishing the frown that suddenly replace the Kings smile the moment it vanish. “However, that doesn’t mean I had not adore you even when you looks like you can beheaded somebody or even when we—”

“My Queen!” The King eyes narrowed, when Nerissa continue what she is supposed to say aloud inside their bond.

It was scandalous!

“What?” The Queen innocently ask. “I haven’t Don nothing wrong.”

The King glared at her, which the Queen only laugh out aloud.

They were at that state, when one of the guards made an announcement.

“All of the women are here to send their respect and to grace you with their presence, your majesty.” He bows his head.

Afterwards, the two wooden double and enormous doors were pushed opened. There came trotting the women who came, and dressed with silk, and expensive cloths weaved to exactly match their ranks. There are 5 of them, daughters of the Alpha from The North and South, duchess and royalty, warriors of glory and they are brimming with the courage and fate that brought them here. They carry cadence. They look regal, elegant and polish from one of the aristocratic sculpture that mould them to be more refined. They had been built for this moment and as of the age that made them prepare for the responsibility they would have the moment they become the chosen endeavours for the current Heir next in line for the throne.

The Kings expression went back to how he handle matters. The king that the servant saw earlier has been replaced by the firmness of how he had lead the Kingdom during his reign. Unlike him, the Queen greeted the ladies with a soft smile on her lips.

When the women finally reach the middle of the halls, they lowered their head as a sign of respect for the two rulers.

“I know that everybody of you is fully aware about why you are here.” The King began.

Nobody speak up and so he continue.

“I would like for you to be prepared, because the tradition wouldn’t be easy.” They knew exactly what he is talking about. “If you failed, you knew what would happen.”

The Queen gaze at the ladies.

To be here kneeling at the front of their throne is their first challenge, because to attend the tradition would means courage. The courage they will need, because it will be more harder than they thought it should. Now that she can feel that perhaps it may have been because of the upcoming blood moon that nobody knew when would occur, but it will.

The blood moon that would indicate for the prophecy prophesied and foresaw...long ago.

@cycy