Cursed Lycan's Scarred Mate
Chapter 44: Regrets and apologies

Chapter 44: Regrets and apologies

As strong as he might have perceived himself, Soran couldn’t quite manage Ronan’s mass by himself. Aside from the fact that the Lycan Alpha was now practically dead weight, Lycans were renowned for their iron, impenetrable bodies.

The Wickan resorted to using a levitation spell to transport Ronan’s body to an infirmary bed near Lady Morgan’s workstation.

The coven leader sought answers from Vivian, who seemed unwilling to reveal anything about the incident that occurred during their trip to Sabre Coven. Whether Lady Morgana was acquainted with Ronan for decades or not, Vivian thought better of carelessly spilling information she didn’t have permission to speak about.

The coven leader didn’t pester the shaken-up wolf any further. Vivian seemed at unease having witnessed Ronan succumb to a rare, vulnerable state.

What could the Wickans have possibly done to bring a formidable Lycan Alpha like Ronan down?

It roused another unsettling fear deep within Vivian. If Alaric was capable of attacking Ronan in such a way, who knew what else the wicked man could do next?

Vivian shook her head to clear her thoughts; yet more self-reproaching thoughts crowded her mind. What use was she as a mate if she couldn’t sense her Alpha was in danger? Why wasn’t she able to detect that something had been done to him the moment he rescued her?

Why wasn’t she able to do anything for him?

Noticing Vivian’s internal distress, Soran placed a comforting hand on her shoulder when he saw her body visibly quivering and her chest heaving from uneven breaths.

"Vivian?" Soran uttered her name sympathetically. "Is everything alright? You’re trembling. Are those symbols...bothering you?"

Contrary to his first expression of disgust upon meeting her, Soran seemed rather amiable. He offered her a genial smile, distracting her mind from whatever dilemmas were running rampant there.

Vivian recoiled on instinct, shuffling away from the Wickan man. Soran’s expression softened apologetically for touching her without permission, but the she-wolf didn’t welcome any explanations.

On the other hand, Lady Morgana cast a beam of light from her fingertips that branched off into specks of magic infiltrating the pores in Ronan’s skin. She weaved her fingers in strange motions as he closed her eyes to concentrate, performing an internal magical assessment.

"Moonbind Draught," Lady Morgana stated, her eyes snapping open immediately. "This was done by other Wickans, was it not?" Her piercing gaze shot to Vivian, who only shrugged in response.

Understanding that Vivian would not speak to her, Lady Morgana began preparing an antidote to counteract the poisonous effects of the Moonbind Draught. Soran assisted her as he saw fit, providing the necessary ingredients and incantations.

Vivian seated herself on the side of the infirmary bed beside Ronan’s body. His skin paled and his body flushed into a feverish state. Her brows drew together worriedly as she caressed his cheek.

Come on, Ronan. Vivian echoed in her mind with her lips pressed tightly together. Aren’t you stronger than this? You’re a Lycan Alpha... this poison should be nothing.

Convincing herself that Ronan was mightier than some low-grade Wickan poison, Vivian threaded her fingers through his left hand. She brought his hand to her forehead, closing her eyes as she rested against it.

Please Ronan. I owe you my life. This happened because of me. Vivian continued to berate herself. If it wasn’t for her dark connection with Alaric, the Wickans of Estwood Coven would never have targeted Ronan.

Even if the Lycan Alpha was sturdier than some Wickan poison, the potion would undoubtedly leave some lasting effects.

Ronan didn’t deserve this.

Not after everything he’d done for her.

I’m so sorry. Vivian apologised mentally, labouring her breathing by holding tightly onto Ronan’s hand. I’m so sorry you were hurt because of me. I never meant for this to happen.

"He’s going to be fine," Lady Morgana announced when she saw the sheer fear wallowing on the surface of Vivian’s eyes. "Moonbind Draught is lethal but not incurable. Your mate is impressively strong for enduring it this entire time without any signs that he was poisoned at all."

Vivian couldn’t agree more, but there was still the feeling of guilt plaguing her.

"Is there anything I can do?" Vivian asked with a strained voice, choking back tears. "Please...anything at all."

"Just stay by his side," Soran answered her, handing Lady Morgana a vial of unusual, dried ingredients. "He would prefer that."

"There must be something useful I can do," Vivian insisted, not withholding the glare she shot in Soran’s direction.

The Wickan held up his hands defensively.

"He simply required the antidote I’m preparing," Lady Morgana responded, grinding down dried plant leaves with a bluish powder in a stone mortar. "It’ll help if you try to wake him up. It’s better if he’s conscious so that his Lycan energy can prevent the spread of the poison."

Soran arched his brow questioningly at Lady Morgana, clearly aware that whether Ronan was conscious or unconscious would have no detrimental effects on the poison’s movements.

Lady Morgana shut him down with a steely glance that made him gulp, immediately catching onto his leader’s intentions.

Following the coven leader’s suggestions, Vivian inched closer to Ronan. Her lips neared his ear and she whispered, "Ronan? Can you hear me?" She questioned in a soft, sweet tone.

The Lycan Alpha stirred, his brows drawing tautly together. A low groan escaped his throat upon hearing her voice.

"Ronan, you need to wake up," Vivian continued to whisper into his ear, her hand resting on his chest. "You’re stronger than this poison; I know it."

Ronan’s eyes fluttered open, his body still plagued by a heavy weight sensation while his muscles and limbs were sore.

"The antidote is almost complete," Lady Morgana updated, binding the ingredients together with an incantation.

The Lycan Alpha’s breathing grew even more unstable, but his eyes still listlessly rolled to the side to look at Vivian through a hazy vision.

"You will be okay soon," Vivian reassured him, her hand cupping his cheek to keep him focused on her touch. "It won’t be long now."

Ronan leaned into her touch, savouring the warmth from it. He wasn’t coherent enough to respond to her, but it was endearing enough that she seemed rather concerned about him.

He never imagined Vivian would be so worried or hysterical if something ever happened to him.

Perhaps if he was hurt or harmed more often, he could enjoy her touch and worries for him as much as he’d liked.