MOONBOUND WITCH

••• House Of Quintt •••

Arwenna POV

"You killed him... you caused his death," Denise choked on her words, tears streaming down her face as she mourned the death of her father.

Denise looked towards me... Seeing the little smirk plastered on my lips infuriated her, she launched towards me, ready to scratch the existing peace out of my face, but her brothers held her back. She kept struggling, fighting to break loose to come at me and feast on my body like a condemned demon.

Today was supposed to be a normal day: wake up, cook, clean the house, and take care of my sickly husband. But I guess the moon goddess had other plans in mind -- today was exactly the opposite. My husband died today, he slept and never woke up. Yes, he died, and I absolutely feel no remorse for him.

Do you expect me to mourn for him? No, sweetie.

Fredrick married me at 16. I was married off as collateral to pay off my Aunt's debts, that perverted pedophile who was Fifty-six married a sixteen-year-old girl who was the same age as his daughter.

He cut my dreams short. And you want me... I, Arwenna, cry for him... I would burn his soul if I could. That bastard ruined my dreams... ruined my life.

I wish... I had killed him myself.

"Look... Gavin, look at her... Can't you see the smirk plastered on her face?" Denise held the hands of her brother, staring at him. "It's obvious she killed him... she must have poisoned him to get his property." Denise pointed at me, raking her gaze over my body... head to toe.

"Denise, sweetie... I know you haven't found a place in your heart to accept me," I muttered, tears gathering in my eyes. "But he's my husband; I would do absolutely nothing to hurt him."

My hands covered my face... I must put on a good show... a perfect one.

Jeff, the last child of the family, walked towards me and placed his hands on my shoulders, comforting me as I mourned the death of my husband.

"Do you think I wish to become a widow at the young age of nineteen? I really loved him... I loved your father wholeheartedly. When will you learn to accept me? My words choked in my throat as tears kept falling from my eyes.

"Stop the clown show, you witch, and reveal your true colors!" Denise shouted, her voice coming out in a shriek. "Admit that his death has something to do with you!".

"I won't accept that, Denise. You can call me names, but I will never accept the title of a murderer, and besides, I'm your mother. You should learn to show me some respect, I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for them to hear.

"Shut your trap! You are not my mother, you never are... You'll never be. It would be better if you dreamed below your league", Denise chuckled with pure disgust in her eyes.

I felt a cold gaze throwing daggers into my skin beside me. It was Jeff, his eyes cold, neck stiff as stone. My eyes widened, Jeff absolutely hated me addressing myself as their mother, even if it was a joke. He never really liked me --- no one does. It's a show he put on when he comforted me...

The presence of the guests had saved me from accompanying that dead pedophile to his grave. But when they leave, I might end up half dead—half alive.

Lady Edina, the old maid who served the house of Quintt for a very long time, even before their mother Sofia also died, appeared beside me carrying a cup of water and handed it over to me. I stared at the water for some minutes. Edina was the only one nice to me in this house; she cared for me and treated me as if I belonged, even if I didn't want to.

I smiled at her and took a huge gulp from it. I handed it over to her; she looked at me with pain, guilt, sadness, and something else I couldn't understand. Those were the expressions on her face, and it confused me.

"Sorry... I'm really sorry, Arwenna," Edina cried, wiping her tears as constantly as they fell. My eyes softened.

"It's not your fault, Edina; you do not need to apologize. It wasn't your fault that he died. I'll be okay...we'll be fine."I whispered while hugging her. Edina was quite close to the dead fool, and I knew how it felt to lose someone you've known for a long time... realizing you won't see them again.

Then, suddenly, it hit me.

A wildfire blazed through my body... I could feel it, even in my bloodstream. My heart raced--- fast enough to deny me breath; my skin burned... Everywhere felt hot... Too hot--- it was choking... my legs clenched tightly.

How...how... This isn't possible. I looked at Edina... She avoided my eyes. Now I get it; she wasn't crying because of Frederick but because she felt guilty for what she did.

"Why, Edina? How could you do this to me?" I chuckled, rubbing my head; everywhere felt hot. "Edina, you drugged me--- I trusted you... more than anyone in this room."

"Arwenna, do not accuse me of something I never did--- it isn't my fault you can't control your urge even on the day your husband died," Edina scowled. She looked nothing like the woman I trusted and trust me I won't back down without a fight, I would...Rather, we burn together.

I chuckled really hard -- I could feel myself losing the last bit of sanity left within me.

"You shouldn't blame me for being too sexually active. Fredrick was never good in bed; he was either too slow, too weak, or too small. A young girl needs a young, fast drive, but at least you never really cared when you fell on your knees every single time sucking on his dick, even on his deathbed, choking and swallowing his cum on his bed while he mouth-fucked you like his life depended on it. That perhaps could be the cause of his death." Eyes widened, the guests gasped, and Denise's eyes turned cold. She looked at Edina like prey, launched towards her, and this time she wasn't stopped; she let out her claws and ripped Edina's face as the old witch cried for help.

I staggered towards a nearby table. Laying eyes on a glass cup, I raised it up and smashed it on my head. I would rather be labeled a psychopath than a slut. I felt my body give out.

Falling into the abyss... I expected a sharp pain, but rather, it felt soft and warm. That Scent... it feels Familiar almost....intoxicating

I tried identifying the source, but everything was too blurry— I felt too weak.

Everything turned pure black as I fell into unconsciousness.