The Survivor ( #2 Eastern Werewolves Pack Series)

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Chapter 13: Narrator

“Useless.” She threw the chair to the wall with anger.

Her chest heaved heavily. The news of Kaya and Camilla being saved by the werewolves was driving her mad. Emmett lowered his head as he was unable to face the wrath of his leader. When she was angry, it would take a miracle for her to calm down.

Not long after that, she coughed out blood to her palm. Ignoring her anger, Emmett rushed up to her side.

“You should rest,” He whispered, guiding her to another chair.

She kept on coughing more blood on her palm before it ceased. All she ever wanted was to accomplish her revenge. Alaric had cursed her. Her immortality was waning down.

Emmett touched the emerald gem around the neck of his leader and transferred his life force into it. The necklace was the only thing that could sustain his leader’s weak body.

“I would find her,” He told her. “I would not stop until I have her. Then, we could begin the ritual.”

“Bring me to my chamber,” She whispered.

Emmett escorted her careful up the spiral staircases of a ruined and hidden castle in the middle of nowhere. This place had been her solace for many centuries. It was in plain sight but, he used an illusion spell to repel outsiders from discovering this place. He tucked her careful in her bed.

Her hands turned wrinkly and pale. Her face no different than her hands. All her body was turning wrinkly, old and losing their glow. Her age of two thousand years old was catching up with her body. Sooner, she would be dead. There was a spell that could grant her immortality but Alaric had destroyed everything related to immortality. Now, the only way to be immortal was getting bitten by a vampire, born as a vampire or a witch or wizard. Immortality was no longer could be granted through a spell. Taking immortality using spell could be done. But granting immortality using spell was just wishful thinking.

Curse, Alaric for doing this to her. How could he?

“I could heal the pain,” A tall man in black suit spoke to her.

She was mourning for the loss of her son when she first met Alaric. The words left from his silver tongue slithered into her mind and held her captive. She would give up anything to have her son back.

“Impossible.” She looked to the grave where her son was buried.

Her son was gone because of her alcoholic husband. If her boy didn’t come home that night, he would have lived. Fate turned her life. Her boy came home when her husband was hitting her hard in the kitchen. He had taken all her money, sold all her jewelry and the only thing they had left was the house. All because of his gambling and addiction to alcohol and drugs. The beating felt like ages until her boy wrapped himself around her to protect her. She begged her husband to stop but nothing. He became angry. The next thing happened, her son was battling for his life in the hospital. Seven stabs to the abdomen and one heavy trauma to the head. Two days later, he lost his battle.

Alaric touched her cheek and it felt warm against her skin. Suddenly, she was no longer in pain of losing her son. She started to remember him with all the sweet memories.

From there, she was drawn to him. He healed her pain. In return, her heart opened for him. It was all happy and everything. She learned what he was. She learned the spells. She learned everything he taught her. Except for one. The spell locked in his safe.

“What the hell are you doing?” His eyes were bewildered as he witnessed the scene before his eyes.

Five unconscious people were tied to the floor in a circle while she was standing in the middle. In her hand was the Book of Resurrection and the Chalice of Life.

“You could have brought him back to life. You lied to me.”

“That spell is dangerous.” He shouted and tried to advance to her.

She stopped him by an unseen power and pinned him with knives to the walls. She resumed reading the spell out loud and the whole house quaked. The more she read, the harder the house quaked until everything ceased and Alaric was holding Book of Resurrection. He had stopped time temporarily to seize the book from her grip.

“I wanted my son back.”

Alaric’s hand engulfed in fire before the flame burnt the book into ashes. All the books, papers and scrolls in the study room burnt as if someone burnt them physically. It was his power. He could do things with his mind.

“You’ve done a terrible thing.” He shook his head. “This spell is yet to be completed. And you’ve activated it. Did you know what would happen when an incomplete spell was used?”

He summoned a green chain and bound it around her body. Alaric forced her to the window and let her witnessed the aftermath of her doing. Men, women, and children began to collapse on the street. Their skins bubbled up and then exploded, spreading an acidic liquid which melted their bodies down. Scream of terrors echoed into the silent night. That night, hundreds of lives perished for her doing.

“For one life, you’ve killed hundreds,” He told her.

His eyes hardened. Once there was love and devotion in those beautiful blue orbs of his. Now, it was consumed with hatred and anguish.

“I gave you everything you ever needed. Immortality, wealth, life—and this is how you repaid me? You’ve betrayed me.”

“Wouldn’t you do it if it was your son?” She cried. “He was everything I had.”

“Resurrecting one life and killed hundreds for it? No, I wouldn’t do it even if it was my son.” Alaric stepped away from her. “No other blood could grant you immortality. No witchcraft would be wielded by your hands. No life form would be created in your womb. I cursed you to damnation. I cursed your immortality to fade.”

She fell to the floor, choking as if her throat was constricted by his hands. But, it was just her life force slowly leaving her body.

“Alaric.” She shouted as he left to the door. “Alaric, don’t go.”

“You did this to yourself.” His hand was on the doorknob.

Then, fire consumed the walls around them.

“Now, you’re paying for it, Deborah.”

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