Cursed Lycan's Scarred Mate
Chapter 49: Umbrafyre Curse

Chapter 49: Umbrafyre Curse

In an age of blood and ruin long forgotten, a time known as the Era of Chains, a cult of powerful Dark Wickans sought to take control over magical creatures who could change skin and bone as they wished.

Shifters.

During the Era of Chains, the Dhildari cult of Dark Wickans dabbled in the forbidden arts of Shadowcraft. They created irreversible curses to enslave shifters and suppress their abilities, binding them with dark symbols to prevent them from shifting or escaping.

"Enslave shifters?" Ronan said, questioningly, his expression tense as Lady Morgana paged through the ill-bearing tome. "There is no history of such an era."

"Because the world has buried it deep in its roots where no light can ever touch," Lady Morgana related, her tone severe and deeper than usual. "The old world, where the Dhildari ruled, no longer exists, and the Era of Chains was erased from existence, but there are those who remember... those who have seen the horrors of such an era."

As per scholars and historians, the ’Old World’ was a realm born before the current world. It was a space in time where humans didn’t exist, only warlocks and magical creatures.

What happened to the Old World, and who brought about its demise?

No one knew. Not anyone alive at the moment that is, nor anyone willing to speak of it.

And in all his years of living, Ronan had never learnt about the existence of such an era. As the son of a lineage with dark history, he ought to have heard about this before, no?

Yet, that was not the case.

However, he did somewhat learn of the Old World, but there were little to no resources on its existence.

Not any in his clan’s possession at least.

But to think there was an era when Shifters were at the mercy of Wickans.

Truly a terrifying thought.

"Are you saying what has been done to Vivian originates from such an era?" Ronan sought answers to his friend’s revelations.

Lady Morgana nodded with a grave expression.

"The Umbrafyre curse that has been cast upon your mate’s body is an ancient and taboo spell from this tome of Shadowcraft," Lady Morgana explained, her finger tapping on a particular page in the tome. "This spell brands the victim with dark symbols that burn into the flesh, twisting and restricting any magic within the victim that isn’t compatible with its own magic."

Lady Morgana further explained that for a shifter like Vivian, the Umbrafyre curse disrupted her natural shifting abilities, causing severe pain if she would ever try to shift into her wolf form. At her current state, if she shifted, the curse would leave her in a half-shifted, monstrous, and unstable state.

"The curse essentially locks the shifter’s spirit in place and prevents their shifter essence from aligning with their physical form," Lady Morgana stated further. "Overtime, the curse will begin to drain her life force as the incompatible magics clash within her."

Clenching his fists at his sides, Ronan could barely restrain the anger coiling inside him. The fact that his mate had been punished unjustly through malicious means for a crime she didn’t commit... had just fully registered in his mind.

"Estwood Coven," Ronan uttered bitterly, gnashing his teeth together as he spoke. "What was that bastard’s name again?"

"Alaric Alessandro Crowley," Lady Morgana said, shutting the tome closed as she chanted a brief spell to rebind the book.

"How well do you know him?"

"Not as well as I thought I did. He didn’t strike me as a man who would dabble in Shadowcraft," Lady Morgana admitted with a weary sigh.

"I’m going to kill him," Ronan decided in haste. "He’ll pay dearly for what he’s done."

"You can’t," the coven leader objected, shaking her head. "Umbrafyre is such that if you kill the caster, the spell will become completely permanent on the victim, and Vivian could die if you harm him."

Disgruntled, Ronan could only release a low growl from his throat. A myriad of unthinkable scenarios popped into his mind after realising that Alaric was somewhat connected to Vivian and any attempts to kill the bastard would put his mate at risk.

What was he supposed to do then?

Just accept the situation and pray for the best?

"Can we make him reverse or remove it?" Ronan exhaled sharply, attempting to calm his nerves. "Perhaps torture him into undoing the curse."

"That would be unwise," Lady Morgana objected again. "Alaric is connected to powerful figures in the South, ones that will be ready to cross your territory in a heartbeat and lay siege to the North."

"The entire North is not my concern," Ronan said firmly. "Vivian is my only priority. If she can be cured, I don’t care for the consequences that affect others."

"Don’t be reckless, Ronan. I understand your anger and your instincts to exact revenge on your mate’s behalf, but you cannot be irrational about it," Lady Morgana advised, sliding the book into its case on the shelf. "Set this matter aside for now and clear your mind. We can discuss it when your temper isn’t getting the better of you."

As much as Ronan wanted to debate with Lady Morgana again, he knew it was pointless. The coven leader made a valid point even if it was against his views.

He would be foolish to rush into dealing with Alaric without a solid plan.

The only worrisome thing that hung in the air between them was... how would Vivian react when she learnt about all of this?

"Vivian must be wondering where you are," Lady Morgana shifted the topic, turning to him with her arms crossed under her chest. "Go to her. I’ll continue researching about the temporary solution I had in mind."

Ronan didn’t respond further, only nodding before promptly taking his leave. When he returned to the upper levels of Sabre Coven’s estate, he found Vivian seated at one of the many long rectangular tables in the large dining hall.

Her food was untouched.

Frowning, he approached her, pulling out a chair to sit beside her.

Vivian’s eyes brightened up upon his arrival, and she smiled.

"Why haven’t you eaten anything?" Ronan enquired, his eyes searching hers for answers. "I told you that you needed to eat."

"I don’t like eating by myself," Vivian admitted, fiddling with her fingers on her lap as her gaze remained low. "I was waiting for you."

How can I be angry with her? Ronan thought. Vivian was too sweet and innocent for her own good.

"Come here," the Lycan Alpha ordered in a softer tone, pulling Vivian to sit on his lap. "I’ll feed you."