#Chapter 3 Loss Of Power

Dean’s POV

"You were born with a curse, you were born without the ability to understand human feelings. You are not my child, you are an emotionless devil!" The woman pushes the little child to the ground and storms off.

"Mummy, mummy..." the child whimpers, desperately trying to catch up with his departing mother at his still unsteady pace, but how can a child catch up with an adult? The child runs faster and faster before eventually tripping over toddler legs and tumbling to the ground. But his mother never turns back, she doesn't even pause for a moment.

"Ugh…!" my eyes blink open in slight discomfort, as I’m left to stare at the ceiling.

Another nightmare.

I stroke my black hair habitually and wipe away the sweat droplets from my forehead nonchalantly.

With a little straightening of my clothes, I head for the main hall, where all the guards bow their heads in respect, while my black robe sweeps over them in a tumble, following me to the throne.

Beside the throne, Tyler, my Beta, and Leonardo, an old wizard, and my godfather, also bow to me respectfully. Only after I nod to them, Leonardo still can't help but look up at me a little eagerly, as if waiting for my answer.

I raise my eyebrows at him, and he finally can't resist asking, "How do you feel, your Majesty? Is she...?"

Ha, he wants to ask if the virgin is my fated mate as proclaimed by the prophecy.

My mother was right, I had a curse since I was born, and the symptoms of the curse are getting worse and worse every year. My headaches are growing more and more intense, sending me into a state of madness.

Leonardo’s magic ball forgave a prophecy, that a virgin born on the 7th day of July would be the one to cure my curse. Hence, I commanded the various packs within the kingdom to sacrifice virgins every year in hopes of finding the one.

"She's my mate," with a pause, I add, "and my headache has disappeared.”

Leonardo lights up at my statement. After all, my symptoms are already so severe that if I hadn’t found my fated mate this year, I would’ve probably died from the intensity of my headaches that send me spiraling into a state of madness.

I tap on the armrest of the throne and Tyler, tacitly comprehending, hands me the virgin's information sheet. However, as I scan the page, I can't help but frown. My forehead creases as the date of birth doesn't match the prophecy.

I cast a puzzled glance at my Beta who, as if anticipating my question, says, "Next page, your majesty," as he points to a sheet of paper below.

It's a completely different sheet of information, and the words "an alpha weaker than omega" catch my attention.

"What's this?"

"The Mystic Grey pack had her impersonate her sister as the virgin to be sacrificed this year."

This revelation makes me snort. Wow, how dare this pack Alpha try and make a fool out of me.

I flex my fingers, creaking at the joints. I would show them the price of daring to challenge my authority.

As for my mate, I take one look at the overly bright smiling face on the info sheet, and I can't help but roll my eyes. Oh, look at the thick, dull, black-rimmed glasses on the bridge of her nose; look at the weak, harmless-looking baby face, lacking any power. Her silliness even spills out the photograph.

Who am I? I am the Lycan King of the Aries Kingdom; I am the most powerful Lycan. But my mate is a weak and useless she-wolf. I groan, is this another joke the moon goddess has played on me, in addition to my curse?

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Harper’s POV

‘Father doesn't care for what happens to us…’ I mumble sadly.

‘Can’t be…’ responds Sara in slight disbelief.

‘He hasn’t cared throughout our entire life, why would he care now!’ Is what runs through my mind when I’m escorted by the Beta into a room where the King resides. He doesn't look happy, and fear stirs deep in my gut at what's about to happen.

He tosses a sheet of paper at me callously. The paper falls lightly to the ground, yet when I pick it up, I feel my heart drop like a heavy anchor being plunged to the bottom of the ocean. I stare at the page with wide eyes, realizing that the Lycan King has already found out that my family pretended that I was my half-sister.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” His raised brow and blank stare cause a shiver to trickle icily down my spine. The King scoffs, “I can easily have you thrown in a jail cell for this… but that's no fun,” he drums his fingers on the table as if in thought, and I can imagine him calculating all the ways to cause my demise.

“I will not marry someone so weak. No, you will return to your pack and relay my message to them: From now on, they’ll be under the harshest of sanctions, their nobles will never be knighted, and not even their great great great grandchildren will ever be able to marry into the royal family.”

He chuckles darkly, “I think that should suffice.”

My heart plummets as he speaks, and much of his words fade out to the loud buzz ringing between my ears. Despite standing in the face of the King, my mind is in a worse place. Knowing exactly what will happen if I return with such news.

‘I’m going to be homeless! A rogue! The lowest stature of any werewolf!’ I fist the layers of my dress, trying to soothe the need to pull at my hair in anguish. ‘No matter the outcome, I’ll die either way!’ I think in grief, ‘It’s over! This really is the end!’ I wail internally.

Just then Sara speaks up with desperation, shading her tone, ‘Maybe we can convince him?’

“How? He’s a ruthless tyrant, I don’t dare!”

‘I don't know! But we might as well try! What have we left to lose?’

She has a point. And clearly the King is awaiting my reaction. My hands clasp together flat in clear prayer as I edge towards him. “Please, your majesty! Please, I beg of you not to punish my pack so harshly!”

He scoffs, “And how do you expect for me to receive reparations for such heinous crimes? I cannot simply let them get away with this. Who will pay for their sins?” he inquires sharply.

I blink in thought, before Sara repeats in my head: ‘We have nothing left to lose, we have to try everything!’

“I will.” I reply to the King, “I will be your slave, and give you whatever you desire.” he raises a brow in obvious suspicion. I need to make this believable. I put on the biggest smile I can muster, fluttering my eyes at him flirtatiously despite how fake I feel.

“I have many talents; I can be very useful to you. And I’m sure a King such as yourself deserves true pleasure,” I try to say through a sultry purr.

‘Wow, I really have lost my mind.’

The King suddenly clears his throat, and I hope he’s not choking on my poor acting skills. Then his eyes scan me as my heart beats loudly in my head. Just when I think my eyelashes are about to flap to stiffness, he approaches me step by step, his index fingertip tilting my chin with a playful smile, “Oh, so you mean you’d offer yourself so willingly for my own pleasure?”

His unwavering gray hues gaze deep into my soul as he stands inches away. With my heart already beating fast, the rhythm now accelerates to an alarming rate, like an anxious bird trying to escape the cage that is in my chest.

‘He believed that?’ Sara’s surprised Pikachu face describes my inner shock entirely.

He’s waiting for me to reply- “Of- of course, my King! Anything for your satisfaction, it would truly be an honor!” I say with a curtsey. ‘This is insane…’

He clicks his tongue, eyeing me up with what seems to be sexual interest. “Well, it seems to be a tempting deal.” The King smiles, and I sigh.

“Really?”

“But a King does not negotiate. I take what I want,” his face chills in an instant. His icy voice shatters the fragile glass that cradled my hope, and embarrassment reddens my baby face.

“If you want to do something like this next time, at least take off those obnoxious glasses first…” his wicked smile only adds salt to my wounds. “Get her out of my sight.”

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Dean’s POV

I recall how a weird stinging sensation had spread through my body when Harper pleaded and begged. Like an annoying unreachable itch. And a sharp pang in my chest had erupted. Like an invisible force was trying to push me to be her savior.

But of course, thanks to my Lycan strength I was able to subdue it. But the uncomfortable feeling remained even after my guards took her away.

As if trying to shed the uncomfortable layer of skin, I changed into more casual clothing and entered the garden grounds to meet Tyler, my Beta, and Leonardo, the old wizard. I removed my mask, but I hated parting with such a staple piece of my attire.

You see, women adore my beauty. I do not. Growing up, I idolized fearsome warriors, the barbarians, and the Vikings. Those men weren’t fawned over like an idol star chased by ignorant girls. They were feared. They were rough, brawny, and stoic. They didn’t have porcelain skin, nor smooth black hair that fell in long flowy waves, or glassy gray eyes. Too soft, too playful, too delicate. What King is delicate?

My thoughts halt however as the old wizard acknowledges my entrance, jumping up and down in clear anxiety: “Why on earth would you chase the girl away? She’s the key to curing your curse!”

I moodily roll my eyes. “You’re wrong old man, I’m cured, my body feels great.” I say with pride.

He eyes me warily and I add. “I told you this curse wouldn’t overcome me. And for the record I will never marry that virgin, even if she’s the only werewolf left in the world. I’d have to be struck by lightning from the heavens for that to ever happen.” I say with a scoff.

But just as the words leave my mouth, hundreds of thunderclouds suddenly roll in over the sky above us. And a bolt of lightning strikes through the air ominously, leaving my mouth agape. Mere seconds after, I suddenly feel my energy drain, like it’s being sucked away by a vacuum created by the hurricane type wind.

Pain erupts in my chest, and I sense that my Lycan strength is being rapidly stripped away.