Cursed Lycan's Scarred Mate
Chapter 64: Setting priorities straight [1]

Chapter 64: Setting priorities straight [1]

In the early hours of the morning, before the sun could rise, Ronan stealthily shifted away from Vivian in their bed. She groaned in her sleep at the loss of warmth, but he was careful to ensure she wasn’t disturbed.

He tucked the blanket around her, bringing his lips close to her forehead, where he halted himself from moving any further. He closed his eyes to ponder over his intentions, reminding himself that it was he who set boundaries and that he shouldn’t cross them.

Nevertheless, he selfishly planted a kiss on her forehead before waking up from the bed unnoticed.

If it wasn’t for his urgent deals with Lady Morgana, he reckoned he wouldn’t have abandoned Vivian on a cold morning, or at least, his Lycan wouldn’t have.

Ronan donned a simple white tunic, black leather trousers, and black laced boots. The top few buttons of his tunic were left open to reveal his chiselled chest and his untamed, long, curly black hair scattered around his shoulders.

He splashed cold water onto his face from a white basin in the room, drying off with a towel. He cast one final glance over his shoulder at Vivian when he was half out of the chamber and then closed the door quietly behind him.

On his way to Lady Morgana’s usual location in the coven’s archives, Ronan wondered at the unsightly revelations his Lycan must have spilt to Vivian about their curse.

Naturally, Vivian had more questions about the curse, but neither he nor his Lycan were willing to share anything more than necessary

Not until she decided to confide in them about her past.

Arriving at the archives with Lady Morgana sitting in readiness at one of the rounded tables with a purple-gem lantern in the middle of it, Ronan set aside his thoughts for later.

Like the ill-disciplined and unrefined brute he was renowned to be, with no sense of noblemen courtesy, Ronan pulled out a chair and spun it around so that his arms could rest over the backrest when he sat down.

Lady Morgana greeted him with a raise of her brow, arms crossed under her bosom and one leg crossed over the other.

"And who would even look upon you and recognise that you are the Lycan Duke of the North?" Lady Morgana commented, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You despise your Lycan half, but you are more beastly in conduct than anything else."

"Returned to a cold, empty bed last night, did you? That would explain your sour mood, Morgana," Ronan bit back in a spiteful tone, followed by an upward curve of the corner of his mouth. "How unfortunate."

Lady Morgana clicked her tongue irritably, deciding to withdraw from her snarky comments. After all, it would result in a never-ending quarrel with a brute like Ronan.

"What did you want to discuss now?" Lady Morgana initiated the conversation, her gaze fixed onto her fingers, which she moved in wave-like motions to create sparks of red magic, forming a thread that wormed through her fingers as if the magic possessed a mind of its own.

Without beating around the bush, Ronan divulged information about the kidnapping incident that occurred before his arrival at Sabre Coven. He explained his conclusion about the MoonBind Draught Avery possibly poisoned him with when she scratched him the first time they encountered.

He further revealed the appearance of Wickans in Clawveld, the vague information he possessed about Estwood Coven’s leader, and Vivian’s unwillingness to share the details of what happened when she was captured.

Ronan’s knuckles turned red with rage when he clenched his hand into fist on the chair’s backrest, exasperated with the fact that Alaric Alessandro Crowley was a man he’d never encountered before and had no understanding of.

Nevertheless, such a bastard had cast a dark and foreboding curse upon his mate’s body; it was enough to earn his boundless hatred towards the man.

Soon, Alaric would learn what the Northern Lycan Duke of the Wolfsbane lineage was capable of.

"So you believe that Avery fled from Moonborn with an agenda against her aunt?" Lady Morgana voiced, tapping her finger on the table. "We don’t know for sure what connections Estwood has to Moonborn and what’s their purpose for trying to get Vivian back. What use is she to them?"

That was a question Ronan had mulled over more times than he could count.

What was so special about his Omega mate that Moonborn desired so much?

Didn’t they offer her Pack Mercy? Then why send Avery after her? And why did those Wickans who captured Vivian abandon her rather than killing or dragging her back across the river?

"There is much I still don’t know," Ronan admitted defeatedly, coursing his fingers through his tangled curls. "Right now, my priority is to find Avery and interrogate her. She will have the answers I need."

Lady Morgana leaned back in her chair with a sigh.

"Does Vivian know what you’re planning to do, Ronan? Don’t you find it strange that she isn’t as concerned about her niece as she should be?"

Yet another question that puzzled Ronan’s mind.

"We can sit around asking the right questions all we want, but no one can answer us," Ronan stated, gripping the chair’s backrest with such immense force that a chunk of the wood broke under his grip, the splintered pieces scattering onto the floor.

"Must you always go around breaking things to release your anger whenever you visit here?!" Lady Morgana fumed, banging her fist on the table hard enough that the force rattled the lantern, sending it tumbling over the edge and plummeting to the floor and shattering into pieces.

Ronan cast her a judgemental look and snorted arrogantly, as if to prove a point that her temper wasn’t any better than his.

She shook her head and cleared her throat, watching the purple gem’s light burn out.

"In any case, I will help by sending out a few of my subordinates to find any traces of Avery," Lady Morgana confirmed. "She couldn’t have gone too far off, and if Estwood Coven has her, then we’ll know soon enough."

"How so? Do you plan to walk in there and demand to know her location?" Ronan clenched his jaw to stop it from twitching impatiently.

Lady Morgana flashed him a confident smile, her magenta eyes darkening with promise.

"Leave that to me, you Lycan bastard."