Chapter four

CEDRIC’S POV

I sat on my bed, legs crossed, and glared at Ava, my fiancée. As the Council leader's daughter, our relationship was strictly business.

"Why did you come to my manor unannounced?" I scolded, annoyance etched on my face. Gray's daughter, who had collapsed, was already on her way to the infirmary.

Ava tilted her head back, incredulous. "We're getting married in the next full moon, and you're still cold to me?"

I remained unmoved. "Ava, I'm not obligated to care for your feelings. Now, answer me: why are you here unannounced?"

Ava rolled her eyes and poured herself a cup of tea. "My father told me about that...woman serving in the manor. I came to see for myself."

I dismissed her with a wave of my hand. "Now that you've confirmed it, you can leave. I have a funeral to plan."

Ava opened her mouth to protest, but I raised my hands, signaling her to stop. With a heavy, angry stomp, Ava left my room, glaring at me. I clenched my fists to prevent myself from reacting to her outburst.

I detested Ava - a pompous, spoiled brat who thought the world revolved around her. I knew her father, the Council leader, had arranged this marriage to gain control over the Rogues in Elgin. Foolish man.

He thought I'd accept this proposal without a plan of my own. Little did he know, I had been secretly gathering my allies, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

As I walked to the library, my hands clasped behind my back, my mind wandered to Gray's daughter. I wasn't worried about her, but a nagging thought persisted: what if she defended me and revealed our mate bond?

The moon goddess's cruel joke - giving me my father's murderer as a mate - fueled my growing irritation. I clenched my fists, trying to shake off the anger that simmered beneath the surface.

Upon arriving at the library, I began writing a letter to Lord Belmont of Dowin, a trusted ally.

I invited him to the upcoming mass burial, a somber occasion that would bring together the leaders of our realm. As I wrote, my thoughts turned to the funeral and the opportunity it presented. Perhaps, I could use this occasion to further my own agenda.

The day passed quickly, and fortunately, it remained peaceful and quiet. The calm before the storm, I said to myself.

A WEEK LATER

Luckily, Marci had managed to find a priestess who didn't adhere to the Council's rules, as today was the funeral.

We werewolves preferred conducting meaningful occasions under the full moon. It had been a week since I last saw Gray's daughter—not that I had any desire to see her. However, the mate bond persisted in conjuring thoughts of her.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. "Come in," I said. Elara entered the room with a bow. "Greetings, my Lord. Mistress Colima instructed me to inform you that the funeral rites will commence in thirty minutes." I nodded in understanding as she departed.

With a sigh, I rose and dressed for the occasion. I donned a traditional black tailcoat with subtle sheen, adorned with intricate silver embroidery that reflected the dim light of the room.

A crisp white shirt with a high collar and a black waistcoat with silver buttons completed the outfit. I fastened my black trousers with a silver buckle, and my polished black leather boots were immaculate. A silver-tipped cane, a symbol of my authority, rested against the wall, awaiting my grasp.

Upon arriving at the main hall, I found it filled with rogues from across Elton. The atmosphere was somber and moody.

I walked to my throne room with confidence, my coat sweeping the floor. The rogues fell to their knees at my dominant aura, their eyes cast downward in respect.

"You may all rise," I said as I sat on my throne. Marci and my aunt Colima stood by my side, their faces somber. "Brothers and sisters, friends and well-wishers, we are all gathered here today to pay our respects to those wolves whose lives were brutally cut short by Santos Gray. We are here to bid them farewell as they reunite with the moon goddess."

The audience was visibly moved, some crying uncontrollably as they mourned the loss of their loved ones. Others appeared indifferent, their faces expressionless as they awaited the conclusion of the ceremony.

The priestess, a wise and compassionate woman stepped forward. She wore a long, flowing white robe with intricate silver embroidery, symbolizing her connection to the moon goddess. In her hands, she held a staff adorned with small, glowing crystals that seemed to pulsate with an otherworldly energy.

The priestess began to chant, her voice rising and falling in a soothing melody that seemed to calm the mournful atmosphere. She invoked the moon goddess, calling upon her to guide the departed souls to the afterlife. As she spoke, the air seemed to vibrate with an eerie, mystical energy.

The priestess then proceeded to light a series of candles, each one representing a different aspect of the werewolf spirit: strength, loyalty, and resilience. The flames danced in the flickering light, casting eerie shadows on the walls as the mourners watched in silence.

When the priestess spoke the final words, the bodies of the departed werewolves were set ablaze, the flames consuming their decomposing flesh as the mourners watched in somber silence.

The fire crackled and spat, releasing a fragrant smoke that seemed to carry the spirits of the departed to the afterlife.

As the flames died down, leaving only ashes and memories behind, the mourners slowly began to disperse. I thanked the priestess and bid her farewell as she departed in her carriage.

I turned to Marci and offered him a nod of approval. "Good work," I said, before heading back to my chambers. The day had been hectic, and I felt a growing sense of frustration.

I opened the door to my chambers with a loud bang, the sound echoing through the hallway. I didn't know why I was feeling furious, but my anger simmered just below the surface. Needing to release some tension, I headed to the forest.

As I walked, the trees seemed to close in around me, their branches creaking in the gentle breeze. I felt my body begin to shift, my muscles stretching and contorting as my transformation took hold.

My clothes tore and ripped as my body expanded, my limbs shortening and morphing into those of a wolf. My senses grew sharper, my hearing and smell becoming more acute as I dropped to all fours.

My fur was a thick, luxurious black, with white strips running along my ears like a crescent moon. My eyes glowed bright red in the fading light, a piercing gaze that seemed to bore into the very soul of the forest.

I let out a mighty roar, the sound echoing through the trees as I sprinted forward, my paws pounding against the earth. The forest was mine, and I was free to run wild and unencumbered, my anger and frustration melting away with each stride.

I ran through the forest, my paws pounding the earth in a rhythmic cadence. My heart racing with anger, I thought of Santos Gray's brutal attack on my people. The memory still seared my mind like a branding iron.

I was angry at the Council for their discrimination, treating us like second-class citizens because of our werewolf heritage. And I was angry at the goddess for giving me a traitor as a mate - Gray's daughter.

I paused, my ears perked up, as a certain scent filled my nostrils. It couldn't be. There was no way Gray's spawn could leave the manor.

But the scent grew stronger, mixed with the metallic tang of blood. My heart racing, I followed the scent, my paws silent on the forest floor.

As I rounded a bend in the path, I caught sight of a figure lying on the ground. My eyes narrowed as I took in the scene.

It was her - Gray's daughter, my mate. She was covered in a pool of her own blood, her body broken and battered.

I approached her cautiously, my senses on high alert. She was alive, but barely. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and her eyes were closed, her face pale and drawn.

I stood over her, my eyes fixed on her battered form. What was she doing out here? And who could have done this to her?

My mind racing with questions, I stood frozen, unsure of what to do next...

And then, her eyes flickered open, locking onto mine.