The Ruthless Lycan King's Virgin Mate

#Chapter 4 Summon

Dean’s POV

I’m somewhat dumbfounded by the coincidence. More so when the old wizard’s prophetic orb flashes and swirls with smoke tinged in black and gold. I watch the old man rest his hands against the ball, and as I’ve seen many times before, his eyes go completely white, as he starts to speak with a voice weighed down by gloom.

“The curse has not left you Dean Tullus, it has only been subdued,” my brows narrow in displeasure, but I don’t speak just yet as Leonard continues, “It is only when you declare your love to her with full honesty, that your curse shall be cured. This is salvation, as well as punishment.”

Leonardo shakes himself awake and out of his trance, wide eyes blinking at me. I only glare at the ball with growing distaste, as victory once again slips out of my grasp.

It seems absurd that someone as strong and powerful as me is expected to fall in love with someone so weak. It makes little sense, and there is nothing logical about it. Power breeds with power.

Moreover, it seems impossible that I’d lose all my power so suddenly. My gaze turns to the other two beside me, about to suggest we research into how this could happen. Until suddenly, the words coming out of Tyler’s mouth become muffled. And then silent. And then I can no longer hear at all.

It’s like the world around me has been deafened. Before I can express this sudden deactivation of one of my senses, a voice rings out loudly in my head.

“Moon Goddess, please help me! Please give me a savior in this desperate time of need.”

This cry for help repeats itself in my head like a broken record player, growing louder and louder with each time it’s replayed. Something draws me away from where I’m stood. My mind goes fuzzy and is dispelled of all other thoughts other than the concept of movement.

Move.

Move.

MOVE.

It’s like one of my insanity episodes but slightly different. It’s like I’m being summoned somewhere, there’s a purpose behind it. I turn to Tyler immediately, knowing something I can’t control is about to happen.

“Find me.”

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Harper’s POV

“They wouldn’t banish me…. Would they?” I absentmindedly kick rocks in my way as I plod along the way to home. Or what I hope will still be my home. My heart wrenches at the mere thought.

“Oh god!” I wail, “What if they do? I’d surely be lunch for the wereleopards and werebears with my feeble body and weak mind.”

‘Or a snack for other rogue werewolves…’ Sara’s comment only sends me spiraling further in doubt, imaging myself being laid down on a massive silver plate. I’d be roast dinner with a side of mash potatoes and vegetables. And they’d turn my blood into gravy! Oh God!

Before I can contemplate it further, a snap of a twig catches my attention. My eyes shoot up to see several rogue werewolves standing in the distance. Some in the wolf forms, some not, as they focus on me.

I swallow nervously. “Do you think they’re robbing me for my beauty or my money?” Sara can only shrug with unease as I add, “I mean, if they’re robbing me for my beauty, then maybe it’s not impossible for me to sacrifice a little…”

I barely finish my sentence when one of the wolves beelines for me, with his accomplices in tow. He rushes at me with vicious intensity, jaws parted wide to show a sharp row of teeth.

While I’m frozen, Sara’s instincts kick into gear: “Stop that nonsense. Run, run, run! Run as fast as you can! Otherwise, we will end up as roast dinner!”

Sara awakens me from my paralysis, forcing my body to spin and dart in the other direction. I sprint as fast as I can, but I am no match for any werewolf, let alone one in their wolf form. I can hear his heavy paws eating up the ground and gaining on me, his growls growing lower with every second.

I realize I’ll have to use the only advantage I have in this life. My magic…

I have kept it a secret from everyone since there is no record of werewolves ever having magical abilities. I always wonder if this is the Moon Goddess’s way of compensating for my immense weakness. But wait…

The Moon Goddess is not associated with magic… maybe it’s Merlin the Mage! But does Merlin associate with werewolves? Ugh, I don’t know! Whoever seems to be helping me, I’ve got magic somehow!

The only trouble is, is that my magic is flawed. Of course it’s flawed… unpredictable even, sometimes it works sometimes it doesn’t. I’ve also barely had much chance to learn about my abilities, besides the few spells I had read in the library.

With my fear ignited, I suddenly feel my magic rouse from its usual hibernation. My hands tingle with expectation, and a soft hue of lavender light dances from one fingertip to the next. My magic represents itself as a beam of light that I could direct with hand movements.

Spells differ in their method of casting, but the problem is, I’ve never learnt any attack spells, they never seemed of any importance before!

Hence, when a flash of purple light bolts out of my hand, instead of blasting the wolf away as would have been useful, it turns the canine’s fur from a dark brown into a flashy girlish magenta! Probably from the time I wanted to turn my dress from green to pink…

Oh no…

I try again with another hulk who’s still in his human form. But instead of an attack spell colliding with his shoulder as I hope for, it redirects to his hair. Suddenly, a bunch of hair explodes out into a brand-new hairstyle, fitted with bangs and two elaborate French braids! I now recall the time one of the little girls wanted me to do a complex hairstyle on her…. I might’ve cheated….

Ack!

I try one last time on another one of the rogues, hoping a leg shot would be more successful…

Nope.

The spell snaps his trousers undone and disintegrates the material, leaving the rogue now running around with his pale white meaty thighs on show, with only his underwear left.

That spell was for one of my bullies… no good for me now, is it?

This can’t have gone worst; they are all clearly humiliated by what I’ve done. As I’m running, I try to once again cast another spell, but the purple essence of my magic only spasms, sparks and fizzles like a lighter that’s run out of fuel.

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I’m desperate to flee the situation, but in my panic, I stumble over a tree branch and tumble to the ground with an audible thud. The hulks easily catch up to my position, towering over me with devilish smiles.

My situation appears hopeless. Is this truly the end for me? ‘Sara, what do we do?’

‘I don’t know! I don’t know!’ Her cries mirror my heartache, and again and again I try to awake my magic, thrusting my hand out at the rogues in hopes that some light will extend.

But nothing happens, and the rogues laugh at my absurd actions.

Eventually, all I can do is fold my hands in desperation, praying for some miracle, hoping that there’s a kind hero who’ll come to save me.

“Moon Goddess, please help me! Please give me a savior in this desperate time of need.”

I wonder if my plea will remain all but a hopeless wish. But just then, a large masculine figure flashes across my line of vision. Like a graceful predator, he leaps down from a tree and smashes the ground down below as he lands in an effortless crouch.

My savior.