Cursed Lycan's Scarred Mate
Chapter 48: Bickering between old friends

Chapter 48: Bickering between old friends

As Lady Morgana had predicted, Ronan didn’t spare her ears from his relentless ranting. Standing with her back leaning against a bookshelf in the coven’s archives, Lady Morgana touched her forehead with a weary sigh.

"Are you quite done yet?" The Coven Leader questioned, eyeing Ronan with a sideways glare, clearly averse to his tone.

After his confession with Vivian, the Lycan Alpha enquired whether she’d eaten or not, and when she replied that she hadn’t because she couldn’t muster the appetite to indulge in food while he was in a dire state, the man stormed straight to Lady Morgana.

"You’re telling me you couldn’t force her or use fear to ensure she’d eaten?" Ronan arched his brow condescendingly, folding his arms across his chest. "I find that hard to believe, Morgana."

The Coven Leader was renowned for her ability to make anyone yield to her will with words alone, yet Vivian had defied that ability.

Why was Ronan lashing out on her about it?

"You know, your mate is awfully stubborn and rude," Lady Morgana remarked, clicking her tongue. "Consult Soran if you need to. I was polite and friendly with her, but she has a tongue fanning flames with every word she speaks."

Ronan’s forehead creased in confusion, prepared to bicker with his decades-old friend for her accusations against his mate.

Vivian being stubborn and rude? That was the most outrageous thing he’d ever heard.

"What are you implying?" Ronan asked through gritted teeth. "Vivian is always timid and shy. She’s afraid of her own shadow; why would she be rude to you?"

Lady Morgana scoffed in disbelief.

"Well, apparently you don’t seem to know your mate as well as you believe," the Coven Leader countered, followed by an amused huff of breath. "Your pretty wolf isn’t as sweet as she seems. She barks back."

"Does she now?" Ronan’s mouth hooked into a pleased smirk, like a parent smugly proud of their child’s achievements. "That’s my girl."

"Are you seriously going to encourage that?" Lady Morgana tapped her foot impatiently on the cobblestoned floor, the heel of her boots making a slight sound. "I don’t think it’s a wise idea to let her run with such an attitude."

Ronan’s gaze darkened in disagreement.

"We are old companions, Morgana," the Lycan Alpha stated, his expression contorting into a snarl. "But you will not speak ill of my mate. She’s not a child that needs to be disciplined in the behavioural sense, and I will keep encouraging her to be wary when I’m not around."

Lady Morgana held her hands up in surrender, unwilling to allow a heated argument to ensue between them.

"I am just looking out for her within her best interests, but I won’t intervene further," the coven leader convened, setting the matter aside. "Where is she now? I assumed she wouldn’t like being apart from you."

"She listens fairly well," Ronan said, leaning against the other bookshelf. "I entrusted her to Soran. He’s getting her settled into a room with our belongings."

Lady Morgana nodded understandingly.

"So, what did you summon me for down here?" Ronan finally asked, curious about the coven leader’s sudden summons once he’d awakened.

"I found out more about the dark magic on Vivian’s body," Lady Morgana revealed. "I asked her if she could accompany me down here so I could explain, but she was adamant on her refusal."

"Why did you approach her about it? She doesn’t need to know how detrimental or serious it is," Ronan bit back in a frustrated tone. "What is going through your mind, Morgana? You seem very determined to be blunt with Vivian."

"Don’t you believe she has every right to understand and know the state of her condition? Why shouldn’t she be informed of the dangers ahead brought by that dark magic?" Lady Morgana argued, reaching the extent of her patience with Ronan’s stubbornness. "She should decide for herself."

"She’s not in a state to decide for herself. You have no idea what she’s been through," Ronan all but growled out his words.

"Do you?

" Lady Morgana asked with a hint of mock. "How much do you actually know about your mate? Do you actually know what she’s been through?"

Now that struck a twitching nerve.

In essence, Ronan knew absolutely nothing about Vivian.

He knew nothing of her background, her life, or her ex-mate.

And that needed to change.

Realising Lady Morgana’s solid point could not be refuted, the Lycan Alpha retracted his statements.

"So, what did you find out?" Ronan question, diverting the topic from the argument. "Is there a way to cure it other than the solution you suggested?"

Lady Morgana gestured for Ronan to follow her deeper into the archives, sauntering past mahogany bookshelves and artefacts from a forgotten time encased in glass shields or surrounded by spell shields.

She led Ronan to a particular bookshelf, which was painted a dark midnight colour, reminiscent of the shade of her midnight blue hair. The tomes and spell books lined on this shelf oozed an ominous feeling, as if harbouring forbidden magic even in text.

What kind of dark sorcery existed in these archives, and why weren’t they destroyed?

"Because they cannot be destroyed," the Coven leader voiced, as if reading Ronan’s mind. "Dark sorcery cannot be annulled."

Lady Morgana slid out a book bound with red vines, dried rose petals, and a skull in the middle of the cover. In an ancient rune language, the title read, "Arcane Tomes of Shadowcraft."

Cautiously, she laced her fingertips with blue specks of magic, chanting something in a harsh mutter, as if she were communicating with whatever lingered on the book itself.

Ronan scowled upon the sight of the book.

The Lycan within him stirred aggressively, making his eyes flash with a gold glow warily. Every nerve and cell in his body demanded a shift, but it was only temporary; his Lycan cowered and retreated deeper into the space of his soul.

"What...is that book?" The Lycan Alpha asked guardedly, taking a small step back.

Lycan Alpha’s feared no one and nothing.

But the Arcane Tomes of Shadowcraft made the air cluttered with darkness.

He wasn’t fond of the book’s presence.