Kaelen despised the girl from the South.
A half-blood who couldn't even shift, a failed product sold off like chattel by her own family. How could she possibly be his "cure"?
But the blood pact did not lie. He could feel her, constantly. It was like an invisible thread, pulling at his heart.
During the blood pact ritual, when their blood mingled, he had seen her past.
It was an endless darkness. Her life was a portrait painted with pain and loneliness. In her, Kaelen saw the shadow of himself, struggling through conspiracy and hatred after losing his parents.
The feeling was terrifyingly familiar.
Kaelen felt his other hand clench into a fist, his nails digging deep into his palm.
What irritated him even more was that she had also glimpsed his own hidden past, filling him with a strange sense of agitation and rejection. But another thing unsettled him more.
A familiar scent of moonlight emanated from her blood. It was like a faint electric current that shot through him, shaking him to the core.
He had only smelled that scent in one other place—a month ago, at the Moon Lake on the southern border, on the mysterious woman he encountered while he had lost control.
The only woman who could quiet his rampaging beast.
Could it be this offering?
Kaelen immediately extinguished the thought. No. That woman had an unyielding fire in her eyes. This girl's gaze was as empty as a corpse's.
It was just a coincidence. He forced down the doubt in his heart. He needed a cure, not a troublesome mystery.
What infuriated him further was that this cunning creature had feigned illness to escape her first night of service!
"A contagious disease?" Kaelen's lips curled into a cold sneer when Barton reported it to him. "Does she think a petty trick like that can fool anyone?"
"Perhaps it's real," Barton said with concern. "She is a half-blood from the South, after all. It's not impossible she has some strange ailment. I have followed your orders and isolated her in the tower at the top of the castle."
Kaelen said nothing. He wanted to see what kind of game this woman was playing.
The full moon arrived, and with it, the curse.
He shifted into the giant wolf uncontrollably, and instinct drove him towards the tower. He didn't know what he was doing, only that he had to pace restlessly beneath her window.
When he shifted back to his human form the next morning, exhausted, outside the tower, he had no memory of his actions the previous night.
He looked at his body with disgust. As he was about to leave, he noticed that he was covered by an old shawl that carried a unique scent of southern plants and moonlight.
Kaelen froze.
Why was her shawl here? What had the beast… done to her last night?
A wave of frustration and panic washed over him. He clutched the shawl tightly in his hand and turned, fleeing the place as if escaping a crime.
What?!
The next day in the council hall, Kaelen nearly crushed the silver goblet in his hand when his uncle, Barton, mentioned Liam's name.
"...Liam seems quite concerned about her. He went to visit her first thing in the morning."
That woman! Faking an illness was one thing, but how dare she try to entice Liam!
A strange, sour emotion flowed through the blood pact—it was her emotional fluctuation, the joy she felt because of Liam. The feeling was like a spark that instantly ignited Kaelen's fury.
It was intolerable!
"I'm going to check on the 'patient'," he said, standing up, his voice ice-cold.
He strode towards the tower, ready to demand what tricks she was playing, only to see a sight that made his blood boil—she was kneeling before the forbidden door, furtively trying to pick the lock with a hairpin!
All his reason snapped.
He seized her wrist, pinning her hard against the door. He snatched the pin from her, trapping her body between his chest and the door.
He wanted to question her, to humiliate her, to make her pay for her actions.
But as he lowered his head and smelled the tranquil scent that radiated from her, his mind went blank.
Then, he said something that shocked and disgusted even himself.
"Instead of being curious about what's behind this door, why don't you first have a taste of my fangs?"
He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth.
He saw his own reflection in her eyes, a reflection that was instantly drowned in terror. The monster staring back at him was one he didn't even recognize.
He fled the tower.
He was afraid of her. Afraid he would actually hurt her. And afraid that… he would lose control and do something far worse.
From that day on, he ordered that no one was to speak with her.
He wanted her to be lonely, to suffer, to pay the price for daring to provoke him. But more than that, he wanted to protect her, to keep her away from the monster that he could become at any moment.
Yet the blood pact made it impossible to ignore her.
He could feel her loneliness, feel her hunger. The food the maids brought her was worse than what he fed his own soldiers.
That night, tormented once again by Aila's hunger, Kaelen slipped into the castle kitchens in a fit of frustration.
He took the best piece of venison from the spit and plucked the largest berry from the vine.
Then, he crept silently up to the tower and gently placed the food by her bed.
As soon as he had done it, he left.
These nightly visits became an unbreakable habit.
One day, while patrolling his territory on a cliff in the Black Forest, he found a cluster of small white flowers, a rarity in the North.
On a whim he couldn't explain, he picked them.
That night, he placed the small bouquet by her pillow.
He hoped… she would like it.
However, when he stole back to the tower the next morning, he saw something that nearly made him pass out from rage.
Liam.
His brother was standing in the tower's courtyard, looking up and smiling at her window.
He watched as Liam climbed the stone steps and handed her a package. He watched as she smiled back at him, a genuine smile he had never seen on her face.
In that instant, an intensely warm and joyous emotion, stronger than ever before, surged through the blood pact.
And the beast within him roared in silent jealousy and fury.
He didn't go back to his room.
He went straight to the training grounds.
In the center of the grounds stood several training dummies made of hard, black ironwood. Kaelen drew his longsword, his eyes bloodshot.
The sword flashed, and wood chips flew. He hacked and slashed with savage fury, each blow carrying the full force of his being, as if trying to unleash the unbearable rage that was consuming him.
CRACK!
He sent a dummy's head flying with a single strike. It tumbled through the air and landed at his feet.
With a final roar of agony and frustration, he threw his sword to the ground and plunged into the depths of the Winterfang Forest, as if only the endless cold could extinguish the fire that was threatening to burn him to ashes.
"Your illness came at a most convenient time," High Priestess Morgana said, standing in my tower room, her ancient, placid eyes fixed on me. "But the Alpha's patience is limited. On the next full moon, you will see him. Whether you are alive or dead."
Her tone left no room for argument.
On the night of the full moon, I was not taken to Kaelen's chambers. Instead, I was forcibly dragged by guards to the cold, damp dungeon.
"Lady Morgana has instructed that you are to 'serve' the Alpha tonight," the guard said coldly, before forcing a bowl of the dark "Soul-Forgetting Potion" down my throat.
Before the potion could take full effect, the bone-deep chill of the "Silver Frost Blood" was already beginning to spread through my body.
I was locked in an empty stone cell, my hands and feet chained to the wall, leaving me standing on the icy floor to endure the dual torment alone.
I thought of the pouch of herbs Liam had given me, and of Physician Ilian's words.
"...these herbs can ease the pain of your 'Silver Frost Blood.'"
I was such a fool.
To think I had hidden those life-saving herbs under my bedding. I should have taken them long ago.
Just as regret and pain were about to overwhelm me, a roar that was not human erupted from the next cell, followed by the deafening clang of heavy iron chains being violently struck.
"ROAR—!"
The sound seemed powerful enough to bring the entire dungeon down. I froze in terror, a cold hand gripping my heart.
BOOM—!
With a world-shattering crash, the thick stone wall in front of me was smashed open by an unimaginable force from the other side!
Amidst the flying debris, a massive shadow squeezed through the hole.
It was a colossal black wolf, its fur as dark as the solidified night. It was covered in blood, with several broken links of heavy iron chain still hanging from its body.
It caught my scent, and its crimson eyes locked onto me instantly.
It let out a roar and lunged at me without warning!
I closed my eyes.
Its fangs pierced my body with ease, and a warm, silver liquid flowed down my arm.
It bit down hard, and I could feel my blood being drawn into its mouth through the wound.
Then, I felt its wild aura miraculously… subside.
I trembled and opened my eyes.
The giant wolf was still biting my shoulder, but the madness in its crimson eyes was receding like a tide. In the center of its pupils, the deep black of reason was beginning to re-form.
It… had regained its sanity?
It abruptly released me, recoiling as if burned. Its massive body slammed into the opposite wall with a dull thud. It panted heavily, its chest heaving.
It looked at the blood steadily seeping from my shoulder, and a painful whimper escaped its throat. Then, it retreated to the farthest corner of the dungeon, burying its great head between its paws, no longer daring to look at me.
The chill of the "Silver Frost Blood" returned, mingling with the pain in my shoulder. Chained and helpless, my body trembled uncontrollably.
Looking at the equally tormented beast in the corner, I began to hum, in a voice hoarse with pain, an old southern lullaby from deep within my memory.
"Moonlight bright… shines on the ground…"
The massive beast huddled in the corner jolted.
It slowly raised its head, watching me quietly, listening to my song.
Slowly, its trembling stopped.
Meanwhile, in the shadows at the dungeon's entrance.
Morgana and Barton watched everything unfold through a magical crystal.
"It seems the prophecy did not lie," Morgana's voice held a trace of excitement. "Her blood is indeed effective."
"Effective?" Barton's brow furrowed. "I see a tamed dog, not an unbeatable blade. He's cowering in a corner! Morgana, this is not the result I wanted."
"Patience, Lord Barton," a mysterious smile touched Morgana's lips. "What we want is not just to 'tame,' but to 'control.'"
Barton stared at her.
"That destructive power that even he cannot suppress," Morgana said slowly, "becomes as docile as a pet in front of this girl. Do you not yet understand?"
She turned to look at Barton, her eyes glinting with avarice.
"We need more than just to restore his sanity." Barton's breathing grew heavy. "We need to find the 'reins' that can restrain him."
"Precisely," Morgana said, her gaze falling on the weakened girl in the crystal ball. "If we could have more 'reins'…"
"...then what we will have," Barton's voice trembled slightly, "is not just a sane Alpha."
Morgana smiled in satisfaction. "It seems," she said softly, "I need to 'study' our little guest from the South more deeply."
I woke up in my own bed. My shoulder was wrapped in thick bandages, and a sharp pain pulsed from it.
My head was splitting, my thoughts a muddled mess.
What… what happened last night? I remember being taken to the dungeon, and then… then a lot of pain… After that, nothing.
The "Soul-Forgetting Potion" had worked.
Just then, the door opened.
It was Kaelen.
He was dressed in neat, black everyday clothes, but his face was unusually pale, and his eyes were shadowed with exhaustion. He walked to my bedside. For the first time, his lightless eyes didn't look at me, but stared at a point somewhere else.
The room was dead silent.
"Last night…" he finally began, his voice incredibly hoarse. His usually tense jawline seemed stiff, and the tips of his ears were an unnatural shade of red. "Did you… sing a song?"
A song? Did I sing a song?
He paused.
"Sing it again."
I was stunned.
"What?"
"I said," he finally turned to look at me, his bottomless eyes meeting mine, his tone holding a sort of clumsy plea he couldn't hide, "the song from the dungeon last night. Sing it again."
I stared at him, my mind a complete blank.
"The dungeon?" I asked, bewildered. "What happened last night?"