Cursed Lycan's Scarred Mate
Chapter 45: Feisty side

Chapter 45: Feisty side

Once the antidote had been brewed to completion, Lady Morgana moved to administer it to Ronan. However, Vivian seemed opposed to that idea.

Although she technically bore no right to intervene in the friendship between the coven leader and Ronan, he was her mate, was he not?

She didn’t want Lady Morgana to touch him, and she was adamant about it.

Vivian seized the coven leader by the wrist as the woman reached for Ronan, taking her by surprise. The she-wolf made no effort to voice her objections, only holding out her hand to receive the antidote’s vial from Lady Morgana.

The coven leader didn’t argue upon noticing the disapproval in Vivian’s eyes. She handed the vial to the she-wolf carefully, which Vivian snatched impolitely.

The she-wolf slipped one arm under Ronan’s head, supporting him to half-sit up. She brought the tip of the vial to his lips, encouraging him to drink.

Ronan drank the bitter and foul-smelling antidote, grimacing from the unbearable taste. He turned his head away, refusing to consume the last drops of it.

Vivian released a huff of breath, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at her.

"You will drink it, Ronan," Vivian scolded, her expression motherly and threatening. It urged Ronan to smile through his misery, but if he acted out of line again, he feared she might discipline him in a way he’d never forget. "All of it."

Was she taking revenge for the first time they met when he forced her to drink all of the distasteful heat suppressant tea?

The Lycan Alpha forced himself to drink every last drop of the antidote, resisting the urge to spit it out.

On the contrary, Lady Morgana observed in pure awe and wonder. For as long as she was acquainted with Ronan Wolfsbane, the man’s stubbornness always prevailed.

Yet he obeyed his omega mate? Just how special was Vivian Moonborn that he listened after receiving a minor scolding from her?

Vivian handed the empty vial back to the coven leader and laid Ronan’s head to lay against the pillow once more.

"Thank you," Vivian expressed her gratitude to the coven leader without looking at her, making almost no effort to hide her mild dislike for Lady Morgana. "For saving him," she completed.

She’s so timid when Ronan is around... but feisty when he isn’t. The Coven leader thought, denoting the change in Vivian’s demeanour. Perhaps it may be entertaining to toy with her a little.

"Gratitude is unnecessary," Lady Morgana said, waving her hand dismissively. "Ronan and I are old friends; it’s only natural I would save him."

Now that struck a nerve for Vivian. Was it really necessary for the coven leader to specify her friendship with Ronan?

Actually, why did it bother Vivian in the first place?

Lady Morgan’s lips curled into a subtle smirk upon noticing Vivian’s hostile reaction.

The she-wolf exuded such an envious aura that it would seem she’d shift into her wolf form in a heartbeat and rip Lady Morgana to shreds.

The Coven leader couldn’t help but chuckle to herself, earning a raised eyebrow from the she-wolf.

"Would you like some tea, Vivian?" Soran enquired, deciding to be the icebreaker of the tension hanging in the air. "I don’t mean to brag, but I’m somewhat reputable for my tea-brewing skills."

"Tea brewing spells, you mean?" Vivian remarked bluntly, clearly unimpressed by the Wickan’s claims.

Soran awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, unsure of how he should refute Vivian’s assumption.

Was she really the same omega wolf who clung to her Alpha’s arm in fear upon their arrival?

"It still tastes decent," Soran spoke again, attempting to engage Vivian on common ground. "You must be exhausted from the trip. Drink some tea and eat a little of the food I’ve brought; it’ll help you regain your strength."

Vivian’s gaze darted to the tray of food and tea Soran prepared as it sat on the stone table and then returned her attention to the Wickan.

"I’m not particularly hungry," Vivian said, rejecting their hospitality. "I will eat with Ronan when he wakes up."

"I don’t think that will be wise," Lady Morgana intervenes, crossing her arms over her chest. "I’m sure Ronan would want you to regain your energy, and it wouldn’t do to make him worry about you when he’s in this state."

Vivian was aware she was being selfish, but she didn’t need the revelation from Lady Morgana.

She despised Wickans, and no amount of hospitality out of common courtesy was going to encourage her to afford them her trust.

Not when Ronan was fast asleep at the least.

"Suit yourself," Lady Morgana said, realising that Vivian was stubborn to the core. "We’ll leave you two alone and will return later for a checkup."

Vivian was more than thrilled to watch Lady Morgana and Soran depart from the infirmary, closing the door behind them.

With Ronan resting, Vivian gently stroked his unruly and curly black hair. She twirled the strands around her fingers before tracing the contours and ridges of his cheekbones and jawline.

No matter how many times she gazed upon Ronan, the man was always strikingly handsome in a rugged way.

He couldn’t be associated with those pristine noblemen who dressed in refined attire tailored specially for different occasions, clinking their wine glasses in nonsensical toasts while they discussed politics.

Ronan appeared more warrior-like and hardworking. The calluses on his large, rough hands spoke volumes about the life he must have led. Although he mentioned hailing from a prestigious family, the only things that were an indication of that were his wealth and arrogance.

Just what kind of family was the Wolfsbane clan? Vivian was eager to know more about the Lycan Alpha’s background.

Would he mind if she asked him about it?

At some point, Vivian had succumbed to sleep when her mind wandered too much. Both her arms were folded on Ronan’s chest, with her head resting on her left cheek over her arms. His slow and steady heartbeat had lulled her to sleep.

However, it wasn’t long before a soft and fluffy material brushed over her arm a little later, after she’d fallen asleep.

Vivian’s eyes blinked open, catching sight of something black and soft obscuring her vision. When she came to, lifting her head after hearing a low purring sound, she was surprised to find a black cat that had comfortably perched itself on Ronan’s abdomen.

Vivian tilted her head to the side, studying the cat and wondering where it had come from.

The animal’s fur was dense and overly fluffy, and a golden collar with a bell attached to it was secured around its neck.

Perhaps the cat had belonged to one of the Wickans of Sabre Coven.