06: Who tried to kill the prince?

People tend to forget stories whenever they are desperate. It was why there was a dead body laying at the Prince’s feet when he woke that day. Someone had tried to kill him and had stupidly touched his hands, thereby leading to a disastrous death. Had they easily forgotten that the Alpha Prince’s touch was death?

~Fenrir Academy News

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SORAYA

“Someone tried to kill the Prince!” Adele practically screamed as she barged into the room. Her high-pitched voice distracted me from the novel I had picked up from the library. My love for novels never dwindled.

“You said?”

“I said someone tried to kill Prince Daryl.”

I was startled at Adele’s statement. I was right when I told the Prince that there were people in this school who wanted him dead.

That was the thing about power — when you wielded it, you became a target for the ones who would do anything to claim it.

“When did that happen?”

“Today!”

Adele reached for my hand and dragged me up. “People are still clustered around his room, come and see for yourself.”

We made our way to where the crowd of students gathered outside of his room, which was the next room after ours. I risked a glance inside the open room and gasped at what I saw.

Prince Daryl stood in all his glory, wearing an all-black outfit, and not forgetting his gloved hands, but what made me gasp was not the Prince this time — it was the dead body that was being wheeled out of the room.

The dead man was not covered in blood like it would seem if the Prince had launched a counter-attack. No, the man was completely drained of all the blood he could have, and I could see his wolf claws extended like he had tried to shift but could not.

I raised my curious gaze to the Prince’s again, and when his eyes met mine, there was no smirk adorning his face. Instead, he had a lazy expression of boredom as if he was waiting for the body to be wheeled away so he could slam the door to get rid of the jobless onlookers.

Never taking my eyes off the Prince, I asked Adele rather shakily, “How did the assailant die?”

“He touched the Prince’s bare hands. No one touches the Prince’s bare hands and lives. His hands drain the life out of the victim.”

As I made my way to the classroom, Adele’s words never left me — no one touches the Crown Prince’s bare hands and lives. It was the reason why he always wore leather gloves, so he would not accidentally kill anyone. He was cursed, Adele had said, cursed by a witch whom his grandfather had offended. His hands were like a bloodsucking weapon.

Quinn had failed to tell me that tiny bit of information. I could only imagine what would have happened if I had touched his bare hands — I would have met my end even before I finished my mission.

That aside, there was also the nagging curiosity about who had tried to kill him. Was there another Wolf Hunter in the school? Or was it one of the werewolves? What was their motive for the attempt? The question was a hypocritical one because even I had no motive whatsoever in my attempt to kill the Prince.

Quinn had not told me who the client was and why he or she wanted the Prince dead, and I had not asked. It was better to do my job without knowing anything than to get wrapped up in the fumble of the supernatural world. Even after six months, the supernatural world was a jungle I would not want to sink deep in.

“Karter!”

I blinked at Prince Daryl’s sudden appearance before me.

“What the heck,” I mumbled, but the Prince was not there for jokes. He grabbed my hands and practically began to drag me out of the classroom.

“Are you insane, what the heck is this, Daryl Ender?”

Daryl did not stop until we got to the locker room where he shoved me against one of the lockers, pinning my wrists above my head.

“Was it you?” he questioned, his gaze burning. His sun-kissed orbs seemed to glow even brighter, and the way he had his hands gripped over mine felt like he was trying to rein his wolf senses.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I am talking about, Karter. Do not freaking try to play dumb.”

He was talking about the attempted murder, I knew, yet I scrunched my nose up and scoffed. “I do not know what you mean, your Highness.”

Prince Daryl shut his eyes, pressing onto my hands with urgency. The rough patch of his gloves bit at my skin, a bitter reminder of what those hands could do.

When he pried his eyes open again, they were bloodshot, changing from brown to gold like they could not decide which color to remain as. “I am not playing with you, Karter!” he snapped.

“And I am not playing either, Ender. What the heck? You cannot just come at me and start spitting accusations of something I know nothing about!”

Daryl groaned and released me. “So you know nothing of the attack?” he inquired.

I put my arms down. “I am not that stupid. Besides, if I wanted to attack you, I’d do it myself, not send someone to do my dirty job,” I deadpanned with an eye roll.

Daryl ran his hands through his hair, distress written over his face. “How am I to believe you? You made it clear since the first day that you do not like my existence,” he managed to utter.

I scoffed.

“And I remember telling you that day that you had no evidence to prove,” I answered dryly.

“You are good with the swords, but yet you do not have any magic even though you claim to be a witch.” He was making a statement, not asking a question.

No slipups. I could hear Quinn’s voice in my head.

My fingers clenched into fists, searching desperately for the right answer to his accusation. “Not all witches can wield magic,” I finally countered.

I had spent my whole nights since I arrived reading about witches and what they could do. I needed to know about them to perfect my disguise. And when I finally found out that piece of information, I understood why Quinn made my guise as a witch.

“Spellcasting, potion making — those are the powers witches wield. Magic is only for a selected few,” I continued.

Daryl looked at me with disbelief. “You have this all figured out, don’t you?”

And for the second time, I repeated again, “I have no idea what you are talking about, your Highness.”