Cursed Lycan's Scarred Mate
Chapter 41: First arrival at Sabre Coven

Chapter 41: First arrival at Sabre Coven

Vivian practically trembled in Ronan’s embrace, fearful of the undisguised contempt on Soran’s expression. Any moment now, the Wickan would unleash his magic and cast another spell, which would damn her for eternity if it didn’t accelerate her death.

"You’re with me now, sweetheart," Ronan uttered consolingly, his arm still strung over her chest. He bent down to whisper in her ear, "No one can touch you ever again. Not when I’m around."

Assured by Ronan’s declarations, Vivian composed herself again and inhaled a deep breath.

There was still much she had to learn about Ronan Wolfsbane, but for certain, the man was an impenetrable force.

The Lycan Alpha stood up straight again, prepared to confront Soran’s question while the Wickan still regarded Vivian odiously.

"Not her," Ronan answered, his tone nothing short of a growl. "Alpha brother. Coven punished Vivian instead, to reduce the risk of retaliation."

Soran paused and stepped forward, his contempt fading after hearing the revelation. "They punished an innocent?"

Ronan nodded, slowly guiding Vivian to walk forward.

"She was the pack’s omega. She’s covered in Wickan magic, and her body has been a constant battlefield ever since it happened," Ronan explained, glowering the entire time. "It’s draining her."

Soran heeded the explanation carefully, his eyes raking over the Wickan symbols inscribed on Vivian’s face to assess the severity of her condition. His gaze narrowed ominously.

"You better bring her inside then," Soran offered, gesturing his hand in the direction of the Coven house. "We’ll need Lady Morgana, but you’re fortunate; she returned yesterday."

Soran turned to Vivian.

"Moonborn, can you walk? It’s not much further." The disgust and contempt had been erased, replaced by concern.

Vivian wasn’t fond of the way Soran addressed her, but who was she to argue when his coven was generous enough to examine her?

Only their efforts would be utterly futile.

Only Alaric could reverse or remove the dark incantations upon her body.

"I can walk," Vivian assured him; however, Ronan was off the opposing opinion and swept her arm into his arms once more, forcing Vivian to burrow her head into his chest from shame.

Sabre Coven’s house stood towering and grand, built from archaic stone and resembling the features of an old academy. The walls were covered in dark ivy, with tall, arched windows. They arrived at large wooden doors, carved with magic symbols that activated with a blue glow upon recognising Soran’s presence.

The doors opened automatically, leading into a foyer that opened up into a vast hallway. The ceilings were high, and twisting staircases led to the upper levels.

The potent scent of Wickan and their unusual magics lingered thickly in the air, much too strong for Vivian’s comfort. However, Ronan’s faint Lycan scent wrapped around her trembling body like a warm blanket, blocking out the unfamiliarity of the place.

Soran guided them up one of the winding staircases, leading them to the spell concoction chambers. The air inside reeked of herbs and incense, and Vivian glanced around curiously, noticing strange symbols and runes etched into the stone walls.

There was a long, old stone table in the middle of the chambers, catering for ingredients, scrolls, and vials filled with unknown liquids.

At the table was a tall woman with long midnight blue hair, resembling a starry sky considering specks of silver dust were scattered over the strands. Her magenta eyes appeared intense as she focused on her current concoction. She was dressed in a long, flowing gown of black velvet with silver embroidery and a dark cloak with a feathered collar draped over her shoulders.

"Lady Morgana!" Soran called out with urgency, striding forward to her workstation.

"Why are you yelling, you ill-disciplined brat?" Lady Morgana asked without taking her attention off her task. "Are you here to tell me the sky is falling down again or another shifter broke your heart?"

Soran sighed, rolling his eyes.

"No, my lady," the Wickan man said, setting his hands on his hips. "Wolfsbane is here with his mate. They need help."

"Mate?" Lady Morgana said questioningly, finally lifting her head from what seemed to be a failed task upon interruption. She stood up straight, one hand on her hip.

A red flowing pendant hung around her neck, and Vivian’s eyes lit up with recognition. She’d seen one on Alexa’s father too.

Lady Morgana was the Coven leader.

She cast a look in Soran’s direction, then Ronan and Vivian, and smiled when she noticed the possessive way the Lycan Alpha held his mate in his arms.

"Ronan, it’s a pleasure to see you." Lady Morgana greeted, approaching them. "Who’s your-" She halted abruptly when her eyes caught sight of the foreboding mark on Vivian’s forehead.

Ronan set Vivian on her feet for Lady Morgana to examine her.

"Who did this?" The coven leader questioned, her expression dark as her hand reached for Vivian.

The she-wolf immediately ducked behind Ronan, ensuring she was well out of the reach of the coven leader’s hands. She knew what those hands were capable of and the power they wielded.

Frowning at Vivian, Lady Morgana turned to Ronan. "Tell me. Who did that?"

"Estwood Coven," Ronan answered as Vivian clung to his arm again.

"Ah, poor Alexa. Is she the one who..."

"No," Ronan replied acerbically with a stern gaze, almost as if he were challenging the coven leader to hurl another accusation. "Vivian was the pack’s omega and daughter of the Alpha. I believe the perpetrator was an older Alpha brother."

"Why on earth would Alessandro bind her like that? That’s dark magic," Lady Morgana remarked, staring in disbelief. "That’s against our ways and practices. Even in retribution."

Vivian tensed at the mention of Estwood Coven’s leader.

"You’ll have to ask the bastard who cast it himself," Ronan all but growled out his words, barely containing his rage. "Grief, anger, and the need for revenge would be my assumptions. Can you help Vivian?

Vivian, one hand fisted in Ronan’s shirt, anticipated the coven leader’s response.

She was already informed that there was nothing other Wickans could do to heal her body and negate the incantations, yet she was still foolishly hopeful.

What if Alaric was lying about only the caster being capable of removing the dark magic from her body?

If that turned out to be the case, she would rejoice. Then she wouldn’t be compelled to be obedient and accomplish the task he assigned to her, and perhaps she’d be able to seek Ronan’s strength and help to reunite with her niece.

"I’ll need to examine her more thoroughly and see the full extent of the damages," Lady Morgana stated, gesturing for them to follow her into the inner infirmary chambers leading from her workspace.

Soran trailed after them in silence.

"Come in here," Lady Morgana said. "The fire is lit, and it’s warm."

There was a fire blazing in the hearth to the side of the chambers, its heat permeating the space.

"Soran, will you go and prepare some tea for our guests, please?" Lady Morgana requested politely, flashing the Wickan man an unsettling smile that made him reconsider arguing about the task.

He nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

Lady Morgana addressed Ronan about his mate’s condition, posing different questions as she occasionally glanced at Vivian. "I’ll need to see all of it."