PROLOGUE| He Was Born Alive
“Magnus Marcellus!” A woman's strangled cry full of sorrow and helplessness permeated through the hallways as she strenuously rushed towards the office where she believed she would receive the help she needed. Her desperation was so thick in the air that it tainted every corner of the place with a dreary and bleak emptiness like the one she felt inside. Tears ran down her eyes as she pushed away each helping hand that was extended in her direction because she had a single focus and that was to reach her only savior. Everyone present around her, stopped and watched her with defeat reflecting in their faces for they knew the outcome. However, none of that deterred and woman from her sole purpose and she pushed on until she got to the office.
“Magnus Marcellus!” She cried outside the office where she knew Dargan Marcellus was but his guards quickly intercepted her and stopped her from getting to the door. “I need to speak to the Magnus!” she said as tears ran down her cheeks. “Please...just this once.” Her voice cracked and her heart broke even further.
“The Magnus is busy. He can’t see you right now.” One of his tawny guards said but the concern on his face was enough to tell the woman that everyone felt sorry for her.
“I know he will see me because he knows how urgent this is.” The woman begged as she sank to her knees and clutched onto the guard's garments tightly. “Please....” She sobbed against him.
Remorse clouded the guard’s eyes but he turned away and ground his teeth together. “The Magnus already has your information and has asked that you get compensated for the troubles you faced.”
The woman’s eyes widened and brightened in shock as she looked up at him. “What?”
“That was part of the contract, Miss.” The guard spoke but he couldn’t bear to look at her face. “Now that you have fulfilled your duty, you will be compensated for your time and troubles.”
“But he’s dead!” The woman cried and her voice lacerated across the corridor, silencing everyone else who was captivated by her outcry.
At the sound of her sharp voice, the doors to the office the woman incessantly fought to get to open up and the Magnus stepped out, his brightly shining silver eyes laying sternly on her pathetic and frail body. She wondered if he saw how pathetic yet how broken she was. She wondered if he also felt the void that had suddenly replaced the cavern where her heart once was. She wondered if the air conveyed the pain she felt deep in the bowels of her soul for losing the one thing that gave her purpose in that world to him.
“Magnus.” The woman sank down low and rested her head on her hands in a deep bow to her superior, her lord, and her king.
“What is it, Genine?” The deep and husky voice came down laced with a tinge of concern and the tangy flavor of impatience.
Genine winced because the last thing she wanted to be was a nuisance to her king. She swallowed hard and tried with her might to calm down.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you at this time of day but--but--I wanted to ask for a second chance. I didn’t mean to fail you, Magnus.” A new bout of tears started as she recalled her misfortune and she started crying softly in her hands. She could not even raise her head to see what Dargan thought of her protest.
“It wasn’t your fault, Genine,” Dargan assured her and approached her.
Genine’s heartbeat accelerated when she heard muffled steps approaching her. She knew all eyes were on her and everyone wanted to know what the Magnus would do to her.
He was always known as the fiercest and most brutal of the Lycanthrope Kings because of his nature. There had never been a Magnus Lycan in a long time. The last one was said to have died several millennia ago.
The Magnus' nature was considered an anomaly among the Lycanthropes but he was the strongest Lycan living. Born on a full blood-moon night still in his amniotic pouch, he killed his mother just entering the world. While all the other Lycanthropes’ blood ran red, his was silver which created a network of silver veins trailing from his spine, down his back and neck like tendrils of dark magic warning off anyone who dared to cross him. He was known as the Silver Wolf because every single hair on his body was silver and his eyes were like looking at the full moon at the darkest time of the night. Unlike all the other Lycanthropes, his strength, speed, and agility surpassed all the rest, the alphas included. His wolf also stood out, bearing the intrinsic pattern of silver veins that glowed in the dark like neon and his size dwarfed even the wolves from the pure and noble, ancient bloodlines.
“I should have been more careful. I knew how delicate the pregnancy was and should have cared better for myself for the little prince.” Genine whimpered, her shoulders shaking with the devastation of losing her child.
“Miss, the chances of the baby surviving were less than twenty percent. You knew of this before you even signed the contract.” Another man stepped forward and looked down at the crying woman. His voice was remorseful but he accepted the outcome. “You are the last female from the five ancient bloodlines our Magnus has tried but it seems, the Magnus’ blood is too powerful for anything of you to withstand. It is not your fault, Genine. You almost lost your life carrying that baby, trying it the second time will surely have devastating results.”
That was Dargan’s curse. He couldn’t produce an heir because the anomaly in him made it impossible to match with any other bloodline, ancient or noble. He had lost over six children, some dying within a few weeks of conception while others were stillborn or miscarried. Their mothers were constantly monitored because, they too, showed distress and fatigue and their bodies reacted to their babies.
“He was born alive, Magnus,” Genine whispered in anguish. “I held him in my arms and he cried. He was alive…”
“That is something you should hold onto because the others didn’t get that opportunity.” The other man spoke.
“I can carry another baby, Magnus.” Genine pleaded her case. She turned her tear-stained face up, and her eyes came in contact with the moon-silver orbs of her Magnus. “I believe that when I have recovered, I will be able to carry another baby. I know he will survive.”
“Genine, you have done enough. You have used up nine months of your life to carry my baby and unfortunately, the prince didn’t make it. It was expected and I don’t hold any contempt against you. Ozil will make sure you are returned home with your compensation as well as the year-long therapy session that all the other females have gone through, to try and cope with your loss.” Dargan assured the woman and bent down before he helped her to her feet. He looked deep into her eyes and said. “You have not failed me, Genine. Please accept the loss so you don’t fall victim to your denial.”
Genine felt the stress leaving her body as Dargan’s eyes glowed with a power that seeped into her pores and calmed her down.
“Magnus…” Tears came down her eyes as Dargan turned to Ozil and gave him a little nod before he allowed the other man to take Genine away and returned to his office.
After a few minutes of calming Genine down and sending her away, Ozil returned to the office and sighed heavily as he settled down in front of his Magnus.
“This is the sixth baby, Magnus--”
“I am done, Ozil.” Dargan turned to the other male with his silver eyes blazing. “I’ll have to accept that my anomaly does not allow me to procreate. But it makes sense in a way because you can imagine if I was able to make someone exactly like me easily…”
Ozil sighed and said. “You surpass any noble or ancient bloodlines, Magnus. You are a threat to the ancient blood with your abilities, your power, your resilience, and your intelligence. You are indestructible and the things that would kill the rest of us, merely give you a skin rash…”
Dargan flashed the other male a toothy grin. “You make me sound immortal.”
“It is relative to perception but yes, you are basically immortal.”
“But I can’t produce an heir, Ozil. What’s the point of this long and lonely existence?” Dargan turned to the window behind his desk and stared at the darkened skies. “It’s like Mother Nature is fighting my very existence. She doesn’t want me here because I am toying with the balance of the world.”
“But what about the legend of that female--”
Dargan chuckled bitterly. “Don’t tell me you believe in such fairytales, Ozil. What are the odds of me meeting her if she even exists?”
Ozil was quiet for a moment, making Dargan turn to him and he saw the way, the older man’s mind wheels churning. “I don’t think Mother Nature wants to eliminate you, Dargan. I think she is making the right circumstances for you to meet this female.”
“Six babies, Ozil.” Dargan gritted his teeth. “I lost six babies. Some almost killed their mothers in the process. I killed my mother coming into this world. My father died of heartbreak and I grew up knowing exactly what kind of monster they have left behind.” He ran his hand through his pale hair and took a deep breath. “I don’t want to go through this again. Every time a baby dies, I die too inside. There is nothing left in here, Ozil.” He tapped his chest lightly and added. “I can’t give any more.”
Ozil got up and tapped lightly on the table to catch Dargan’s attention. “The twenty million that you asked to be wired into Genine’s account has already been done. She will be up North at one of our villas for the year where she will be well taken care of until she recovers from her ordeal.”
Dargan gritted his teeth remembering the look on her face. He had seen that face one too many times and all those faces of the females who lost his babies haunted him at night in his dreams. They were broken individuals because, though they were not forced to carry the pregnancies, they suffered more than expected. They were attached to the babies because they knew how important it was for Dargan to have an heir. They were determined to be the ones to finally produce a living baby.
I held him in my arms and he cried…
The words echoed deep in his head and Dargan recalled hearing the sound outside the special room he had designed in his house to take care of everything and hope bloomed in his heart. The moment that baby came into the world, Dargan could sense his life essence. He saw how fragile his life strand was and knew he didn’t have long to live. The moment the baby was cleaned and returned to his mother for feeding, he didn’t even suckle. He died in her arms. The anguish that went through him was enough to knock any man off his feet.
After receiving the confirmation that the little prince was dead, Dargan went to his office and locked himself inside. The devastation was beyond what he could handle and he didn’t want to go through that anymore. He was done.
Ozil tapped on his desk again to snap him out of his thoughts and added. “I’ll find that female and you will have that baby, old friend.”
Dargan looked up at his advisor and close friend and though Ozil was sure he would be able to locate the legendary female who was able to carry Dargan’s baby, Dargan was done having that kind of hope. He had a population to look after and felt that it was the most important thing at the moment.
As Ozil left, Dargan returned to work but he couldn’t help feeling a flicker of hope still dancing softly in his soul. Ozil gave him hope though he felt hopeless himself. If this mythical female truly existed then Dargan was going to give it a last try. If it didn’t work then he was going to accept that fate didn’t want him to have a child in that lifetime.
