DEVIL WORSHIPPERS

I stood in a corner of the room as Cathwulf's employees meticulously selected luxurious fabrics for my ball gown. They held up different shades, scrutinizing them under the light to find the one that best complemented my skin tone.

While her employees busied themselves with my attire, Lady Cathwulf remained seated with Alexander. I tuned out their conversation until I caught mention of Damian's pack.

"I heard of your visit to the Moon Stone Pack," Cathwulf's voice lacked the arrogance from earlier.

"I'm not surprised at your excitement for rumors," Alexander humored, a weak smile playing on his lips.

"You know I live for it, Alexander," there was a playful edge to her words. "The feared King rescuing a Luna who defied her Alpha and was charged with treason," her eyes flicked to my face for a fleeting moment before returning to Alexander's. "Who knew she'll turn out to be Alexander's mate? Correct me if I'm wrong."

I bit on my lower lips as her words seeped into my brain. Hearing rumors about me from a stranger I knew nothing about was disheartening, no matter how much I wanted to brush it off.

Alexander entwined his fingers and placed them on his thighs. "Don't concern yourself with my mate, Cathwulf." Her face dropped at his words. "Instead, tell me something more interesting. You've certainly heard whispers of 'the devil worshippers'. It'll be disappointing if you haven't. Why waste your talent on poking mindlessly in people's business?" he mocked.

Her smile wavered, half-embarrassed. "There have been whispers," she took a sip of the wine one of her employees handed out to her a while ago, "but none of attacks. Seeing your interest, I guess there's more to it."

"Tell me everything you know about them. My patience is thin for your annoying teases," Alexander deadpanned.

She dropped her cup on the saucer and suddenly became serious. I can understand her need for seriousness. "Some say it's a resurrected karma for rogues, others say it's a myth. But the recent rumors say it's a disillusioned cult, gathering weak-minded followers to disrupt your perfect image of creating peace in the realm for centuries, and counting. There are promises of liberation from the old ways. A new order."

Alexander's expression hardened. "What do you think, Cathwulf?"

Her eyes glinted with something enigmatic. "The same thing your instincts tell you. I think 'the devil worshippers' is no myth. A fire starts from somewhere. After all, the annual ball is in five days."

Alexander's gaze turned steely. "You think they're after the ball?"

"Hope drives the human mind, alongside greed. The promises these pathetic members receive give them hope and fuel their greed. If these rumors turn out to be true, the ball will be the least of your worries, but it would be the perfect distraction to stage their disruption. But of course, this is only my opinion," she smiled.

Alexander's smile turned smug. "How foolish can these beings be to sign their death for promises?"