Cursed Lycan's Scarred Mate
Chapter 84: Torn between man and beast

Chapter 84: Torn between man and beast

When Ronan couldn’t find a trace of Vivian despite shredding through the trees of the forest, his immediate fallback was to return to Sabre Coven’s mansion and seek out Lady Morgana.

The Lycan Alpha didn’t bother to revert to his human skin, causing an uproar when he barged through the mansion gates, sending them clean off the hinges and alerting the Wickans on patrol.

And Lady Morgana, occupied in the infirmary chambers, rushed out onto the balcony to seek the source of the commotion. When she noticed Ronan’s monstrous form bulldozing his way into the mansion, she swiftly pivoted on her heels and stormed downstairs to confront him.

"Oh that bastard, what’s gotten into him now?" Lady Morgana thought aloud, noisily stomping down the staircase. She’d had about enough of Ronan’s troublesome nature since his arrival; however, now she was more concerned than enraged.

Her mind was quickly crowded by unthinkable assumptions as to why Ronan was in his Lycan skin and leaving chaos in the wake of his rush. Did the Lycan Alpha finally submit completely to his bloodline’s curse?

Did he hurt Vivian and lose the last thread of sanity, preventing him from turning into a complete killing machine?

Lady Morgana didn’t want to think of the morbid possibilities, but with Ronan, she was always forced to assume the worst possible scenario because of his unrestrained and unpredictable actions.

"This cannot be..." Lady Morgana’s brows creased tensely as she reached the bottom of the staircase.

She halted dead in her tracks when she noticed Ronan bolting straight for her, the ground trembling from tremors from the heavy weight of his thuds.

Reacting as swiftly as possible, Lady Morgana flicked out her palm and conjured a swirling mass of black magic. Within a few feet of her proximity, she flexed out her arm, and the sphere of magic extended into a magic rope, lasso, that she cast around Ronan’s neck.

The Lycan Alpha’s growls grew more vicious now that he was collared, canines gnashing together like a rabid hound. Lady Morgana’s expression contorted with strain, gritting her teeth as she grabbed the magical leash and used every ounce of her strength to slam Ronan’s mass down into the ground with a pressured grunt.

She could feel her muscles being strained by his strength, but that didn’t discourage her from reining him under control. With the weight of protection of her Coven bearing down on her shoulders, she needed to bring Ronan under control, lest he turn the mansion into a bloodied graveyard.

The floor cracked, leaving a crater as the stone pieces flung out in different directions when Ronan’s body hit the ground. Lady Morgana wrapped the magical leash tighter around her hand and tugged hard at it to restrain Ronan.

Just as she’d predicted, a part of her fears proved to be true. Ronan’s eyes were no longer the amber gold she’d known for all the years of their friendship, nor the crimson colour of his desires.

It was pitch black. Dark as evil itself.

Ronan thrashed about wildly, but Lady Morgana held her ground firmly.

"Don’t underestimate me, mangy mutt," Lady Morgana scoffed, a confident smirk forming on her lips. "I am one of the oldest Dhildari... I brought many beasts like yourself under my control."

She sent him a surge of crackling energy, using the magical leash as a conduit to electrocute Ronan’s body in a calculated way that ensured his limbs and joints ceased to prevent him from moving.

Paralysed, Ronan snarled as his body plummeted fully onto the ground. Lady Morgana approached him, crouching on her haunches to assess the blackened state of his eyes.

She frowned.

"What the hell happened to you, Ronan?" Lady Morgana posed her question, knowing she wouldn’t receive an answer. "This state... you’re being torn between man and beast."

Lady Morgana rummaged through her mind for any plausible reasons as to why Ronan was collared under such a beastly state. One thing was for certain, and that was the fact that he didn’t turn into a complete killing machine just yet.

From her observations, he seemed to be somewhat conscious of his surroundings due to the simple fact that he didn’t harm any of the Wickans or shred them to pieces when he arrived.

"Is Vivian not your fated mate after all?" Lady Morgana asked sympathetically, her expression softening, and Ronan responded with what sounded like a sorrowful howl. "This shouldn’t be happening. Just bonding with Vivian, even by a small fraction, should have provided you with some stability. How did you spiral out of control?"

While Lady Morgana shared her differences with Ronan and there was the matter of their constant bickering, she gazed upon his pitiful state remorsefully. It reminded her of the ancient past, when she reigned over beasts with cruelty, collaring them under her control just like the rest of the Dhildari tribe of dark Wickans.

Her mind flashed with visages of beasts pleading for mercy from her, and she closed her eyes to suppress the memories. She shook her head to snap herself out of her thoughts and focus on the situation.

If she didn’t think of an emergency measure to temporarily contain the wild nature of Ronan’s curse, the Lycan Alpha would be lost to the darkness forever.

"Unfortunately, I will have to detain you, old friend. Right now, I need to find Vivian," Lady Morgana voiced, glancing at the pillar in the distance from the corner of her eye. "I know you’re there, Soran."

With his position discovered, Soran emerged from behind the pillar with a snort. Arms folded, he approached her and Ronan.

"You’re awfully calm," Lady Morgana stated, her eyes raking over Soran suspiciously.

The Wickan shrugged indifferently with a cynical chuckle, placing the heel of his boot on Ronan’s throat. His blue eyes flashed menacingly as he regarded the Lycan Alpha with vindication.

Ronan grumbled in response, canines gnashing more wildly than before.

"Well, well, well," Soran uttered condescendingly, pressing his boot against Ronan’s throat with more force. "Never believed I would witness the day when you are this vulnerable, Wolfsbane."

"Enough," Lady Morgana hissed through clenched teeth, and Soran immediately withdrew, raising his hands in surrender. "I do not have time for your useless tantrums, Soran. I need you to find Vivian. Now."

’Useless tantrums.’

As usual, Lady Morgana’s tongue was far sharper than any blade.

Soran’s past and suffering were but ’useless tantrums’ to her.

Scoffing, Soran flicked his coat as he turned around and departed without another word. No amount of words could describe the satisfaction he drew from Ronan’s helpless, vulnerable condition. It would be a simple task to slit the Lycan’s throat there and then.

After a while of searching, Soran finally arrived at the clearing where Vivian disappeared without a trace. Passing by the trees, he took notice of ancient sigils drawn on the bark. He nodded approvingly at the masterpiece and precision of the strokes used to draw the sigils.

After all, it was the magnificent work of his own hand.

"I suppose she must be at the temple of Lunaria by now," Soran spoke to himself, folding his arms behind his head as he strolled to the spot where Lyra had initially lay in waiting for Vivian.

He crouched down, touching the burnt patch of grass where a faint, barely visible to the eye, magical rune circle was drawn.

Soran smirked to himself, quite pleased with the fact that his plan was so easily set in motion and Vivian had fallen into his trap without any obstacles.

"Oh dear Vivian, you prove to be more susceptible to Alaric’s plans with each passing day." Soran admired the bloody red shade of the rune circle when it activated with a glow upon his touch. "You have no idea who you truly are and what purpose you will serve."

In the atmosphere, he noticed a dark presence of energy. Something that smelt much like decay and death.

It was the decaying essence of the Old World flooding into the current realm.

"Well, that explains why that mangy mutt went out of control," Soran deduced, understanding the reason behind Ronan’s outburst. "The decaying energy triggered his curse. Well, it doesn’t matter." He chuckled, standing up and dusting his clothes. "You’ve yet to learn that Vivian is no salvation for your curse."

Shaking his head out of his thoughts, Soran stepped into the space of the rune circle. A large swirling mass of dark purple shades, a portal, materialised before him, and he entered its space.

"You’re quite naive, aren’t you, Vivian?" Soran laughed mirthlessly. "You are so easy to manipulate and control. I wonder when you will realise your inner wolf is actually dead."