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The Moonlit Matriarch

On a cold autumn day, a young man enters the city of Vesporum, at the behest of a woman he tried to steal from. To Irene, however, this young man seemingly entranced by her beauty, is little more than a tool at her disposal. She commands him to steal from a vampire, a secret which is guarded so closely. Promising the young man riches and salvation, she lures him into the city shrouded in conflict between two groups. As vampires and werewolves fight for control over the city, a half-blood werewolf woman is murdered in cold blood, setting events no one could have imagined in motion. Aoric finds himself in the middle of this conflict as the threads of fate, or perhaps plans of a certain woman, force him even deeper into these events. Will Irene be able to save her people from the cold blade of this murderer? Will Aoric be able to survive this battle of the ancients? Will the city of Vesporum remain standing as this conflict unfolds? * * * The story is told from Irene's and Aoric's points of view. Do not expect romance from the get-go. Be patient. This is my submission for the 'My Werewolf Lover & I' contest, please consider supporting the story by voting for it. * * * Discord: https://discord.gg/V8aDaRgZdv

Dweia · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
48 Chs

Trapped

He woke up to a sharp pain in his leg. His eyes shot open as memories rushed to his mind, and he remembered the last events before he lost consciousness.

"Oof." He mumbled, no wonder his entire body ached. From how high had he fallen? Three meters? Four? He was lucky nothing was broken.

He glanced at his surroundings, trying to figure out where he was.

It was a small room, with stone walls. He was laying on a bed, though it was fairly torn and battered. The sheets seemed to be somewhat clean, but it was difficult top say in the dark. The room had a single window, but iron bars blocked it.

The door seemed to be made from iron reinforced wood, and Aoric was more than certain that he did not have the physical strength to kick it down.

He turned his attention on his aching leg.

His left leg was wrapped with some bandages once white, but they were already soaked with blood. He carefully touched the cloth, only to get some blood on his hand. They weren't wrapped tightly enough to stem the flow of blood – no wonder he felt so weak and exhausted. He was still bleeding, and it didn't look like it was about to stop on its own.

With a sigh, he reached for the pockets of his cloak, only to realise his cloak wasn't anywhere to be found. In a panic, he reached for his belt, and immediately noticed the lack of a coin pouch, as well as a few other objects.

His boots, and thus, his dagger, were also not anywhere he could see.

"Damn it." He held his tongue, anger would only worsen the bleeding as his heart rate increased, and Aoric was not looking to die today. He grabbed the cloth the sheets and tore a strap of cloth from them. He then slowly and carefully undid the bandages around his wound.

"Damn dog." He uttered as he shivered. He wasn't good with blood – it made him feel lightheaded. He forced himself to clean the wound with the already bloody bandages, then tore the clean, not bloody part off and tightly wrapped it around the bite marks. He then used the torn piece of the sheets to secure the bandages in place, and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Now that the threat of dying from blood loss was over, he could finally look around some.

First things first, he needed to know how well he could move around. He dangled his legs off the bed, and slowly stood up, not putting any weight on his wounded left leg. Then he slowly shifted his weight, trying to see how much it could take.

He winced with pain, but he was able to stand properly still. He took a slow, careful step forward. As much as it hurt, he could step on it, and walk around. He once again breathed a sigh of relief and approached the small window.

The iron bars were thick and sturdy, clearly made to stop any escape attempts. Aoric gritted his teeth and looked beyond the bars in an attempt to understand just how much time had passed since he lost consciousness.

It was dark out, and the murky, cloudy weather of Vesporum once again blocked the stars of the night sky. He could see the small buildings down below. Where was he? He furrowed his brows. He did remember seeing a few mansions with towers attached to them. If he wasn't misremembering, Irene's mansion was one of them.

He shivered at the thought of meeting her here. He wasn't sure why, but it made him more than a little uncomfortable.

He sighed, turned his back on the small window and approached the door. He touched the wood and pushed his palm against it. As he assumed, it felt like it was quite sturdy. He bent down to glance at the fancy lock, and his lips curled down with a frown. This one was not a lock he could pick. Not because it was too complex; it was quite the contrary, actually. It was a simple lock. A simple, yet heavy lock. The lockpick hidden in his hair would break before he could pick this.

He tried to open the door the conventional way, by pressing down the handle, and to nobody's surprise, the door was locked.

"Well, that's just great." He muttered before walking back to the bed and sitting down.

He fiddled with the torn sheets as he pondered. Why had that woman sent her dog after him? She could have easily done the same before handing over the money and potentially giving him time to get away. He bit his lower lip and shot a worried look at the door. What would happen now?

He looked around the room once more, even bent down and glanced under the bed. There was seriously nothing else in here. His gaze lingered on the iron bars blocking the window. Could he perhaps remove those?

But even if was able to do that, there was no chance of him being able to climb down with that wound on his leg.

Annoyed, he got up again, and punched the door. "Hey!" He shouted as loud as he could. "Don't ignore me damn it!"

His voice echoed in the silence. He stood by the door for a few moments, then his shoulders dropped. Of course, no one would care. He clenched his fists. He shouldn't have accepted this job. He shouldn't have come to Vesporum. Ever!

A faint noise sounded, and Aoric's ears perked up. He heard a key being inserted into the lock, and someone then unlocked the door. It creaked open, revealing a woman clad in white.