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The Wolf, the Witch, and the Prophecy

[WPC #145- GOLD TIER WINNER] Thousands of years ago, a prophecy was foretold. A mixed-blood child bound to destroy the balance. Witches, guardians of the world. The bridge between the Supernatural and Mortal men made it their mission to destroy every half-breed. In hopes to stop the prophecy from happening. Disclaimer: (Please note that I do not own the cover art, it was created using www.postermywall.com. Should this be yours I'll gladly remove it upon request.) IG:https://www.instagram.com/vanlauredel/ discord: https://discord.gg/ppNn947

Vanlauredel · Fantasía
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27 Chs

The Curse III

A hybrid blurred beside Emily, and she noted how his eyes examined the scene. And she knew he knew it had something to do with the witch behind the door.

Moments later, she broke the girl's barrier, and the hybrid grabbed the young witch harshly, throwing her to the ground in a thud.

"What did you do!" she demanded, slapping the young woman making her bleed. She was mad; she had hurt her master—the man she loved.

"What did you do?" she heard her master speak, standing up from where he once lay. His eyes narrowed dangerously at the young witch. She knew she would not live long, good thing she had a cooler waiting in the car. She'd have to collect that heart sooner than he initially expected

"TELL ME!" he screamed, causing the young witch to flinch and tremble, where she sat on the floor. And even though she was terrified, she knew it was worth it—the chance to kill the beast considered unkillable.

She fisted her shaking hands, and she glared back at him, "Your death." she said as loud as she could, fear of dying still evident as the words passed her lips. A sadistic smile passed his lips, "My lord, I need her heart in full." Emily informed, hoping he will listen. He hated wasting things, after all.

Seconds later, his right hand was inside Tracey's chest. His fingers wrapped around her, still-beating heart pounding like a horse racing on the tracks. Excruciating pain was evident on her face, with her eyes wide open about to shriek in pain, but before a sound passed her lips, he had pulled her heart out of her chest in one swift motion.

She fell to the floor in a thud.

Emily offered her hands to Aldren, and he dropped the heart to her bare hands. And shot the hybrid to go back to where he was stationed, and the man blurred away.

"Find out what she did," he said, and Emily nodded.

It was minutes later when Emily climbed up the stairs and entered the bedroom, where she saw her master sitting in a chair beside the bed holding the woman's hand. A wave of jealousy enveloped her, and she clenched her jaw.

"Anything?" he asked, not bothering to tear away from his eyes off Violet's face.

"I believe she performed a linking spell." she informed, "How?" Aldren couldn't help thinking aloud. Then, it hit him, and his eyes narrowed on the bottle of bourbon on the bedside table. "But with whom?" he wondered, turning to Emily.

"I will find out. I just need your blood," she said.

"Very well," he said, releasing Violet's hand and standing to follow her.

He watched as the woman performed the spell; the shift in the air means whatever she was doing was working. Emily snapped her eyes open, and she shot him a surprised look, "What is it?" he asked her. She stood from the chair and made her way towards the bed, looking down at the unconscious woman. Her eyes bounced from her face to her master. "My lord, the witch linked you to her." she said, gesturing to the unconscious body.

His eyes darkened, and he clenched his jaw in dismay. "Then that would mean, if she dies, I die." he stated, earning a nod of confirmation from the woman. Smart, he thought, and very brave of her to do such a thing. She knew the platinum blond was weak compared to him. And right at that moment, vulnerable.

"Can you unlink it?" he asked, "I can try and reverse engineer the spell she used, but it may take some time." she confessed, earning a nod from him, and she stepped out of the room in search of the hybrids. She needed them to collect all the grimoires in the house, to make sure she'll use the right spell to unlink the linking spell she used.

It wasn't an easy task, after all.

….

Two days later

Violet woke up under a blanket, her whole body sore and exhausted. And even just the act of peeling her eyelids open felt too challenging to manage. It took a few moments before her eyes started to focus; she recognized the room immediately.

She groaned; then, a gasp passed her dry lips as pain shot through her body when she moved.

"What the fuck happened?" she mentally thought, grabbing her pounding head in her hands as she curled up into a ball on the bed.

She could only imagine what she was feeling was something akin to what humans call a brutal episode of a hangover.

Aldren pushed the door open, arching a brow when his obsidian orbs rested on the platinum blonde. Her eyes were shut close, and she was holding her head. Based on her heartbeat, he could tell she was awake and most likely in a tremendous amount of pain. He grabbed a glass and poured some water in it, making his way towards her.

He sat beside her, making the ed sink slightly; his hand reached to touch her shoulder gently. It had been three days after all; she had been in a mini coma since New York. If he were honest, he would admit that he was a little worried when she didn't wake up the second day; he wondered if he broke her. He tends to do that, after all. Break people like they were merely objects. He also tends to throw them away when they stop being useful.

"Drink this, darling," he said softly, catching her attention. She peeled her eyelids open, looking up at the familiar brunet, and for a moment, she got lost in his eyes. The darkness in it. She let him pull her up and drink the water. And she moaned at the relief she felt when it flowed down her Sahara throat, and she wanted more, gulping in a hurry.

"Slow down, darling. No one's going to take the water away." Aldren said, a chuckle passing his lips. After satisfying her thirst, she lay back down, her arm covering her eyes. "What happened?" she asked, her voice still raspy.

The brunet turned to look at her after placing the empty glass on the bedside table. "You don't remember?" he asked, surprised. He took her silence as an answer, "We were in New York. There was a witch, well there were two witches." he said vaguely, observing her face for any signs of recollection. But she simply furrowed her brows, racking her brain to remember.

"You tore the poor girl's heart?" he said, tone questioning. And she shot him a look.

"And then you attacked me, darling," he said; this time, Violet nodded. That was something she knew she would have done.

Aldren rolled his eyes, "It was three days ago, I was about to call on some witchy help if you didn't wake today." he said.

"Anyway, your things are in the dresser. And your books I had them placed in the Library. Feel free to use it when you're feeling better." he said.

Violet slowly pulled herself up, hand leaning by the wall beside the bed as she made a move to go towards the bathroom's direction. She needed a warm shower to unknot her sore muscles.

"Need help bathing. Darling?" Aldren asked a mischievous smile spread on his chiseled face.

"No, thank you," she said, her shoulder brushing his as she passed.

"Shame." the brunet said, throwing himself to the bed.

"I could help you wash your back," he offered, watching her slowly close the door behind her.