Chapter Eight: The Witch's Visit

Nikita's POV

The morning brought no solace. After another sleepless night, tossing and turning in a vain attempt to find peace, I found myself seated on my father's old throne.

Father's throne, once a symbol of his iron will and love for his pack, now felt like a prison. It was strange sitting here, the weight of the Luna of Death title pressing down on me. Imagining the simple warmth of human touch was a cruel joke.

"Your presence is requested," Yuri said, snapping me from my reverie. He walked in with a purpose, his voice echoing through the empty hall. "The witch has arrived."

"Good," I replied coldly. "Send her in." It barely mattered to me who entered the hall; in my eyes, they all seemed like shadows, fleeting and intangible.

Yuri opened the heavy double doors wider, and the witch entered, her dark cloak flowing gracefully around her. She moved with an eerie, almost ethereal grace. As she approached, she slowly pulled back her hood, revealing a face that spoke of ancient wisdom mixed with caution.

"Everyone else, out," I commanded. My voice was sharp, definitive. No one hesitated; they bowed slightly and exited the grand hall, leaving me alone with the witch.

The witch stood silently, her eyes piercing through me as though she could see into the dark corners of my soul. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of what I was about to discuss. "Do you know what happened to me?" I began, struggling to maintain my composure.

"All curses have an end date, my child," the witch replied, her voice calm but fraught with hidden meanings.

"End date?" My confusion was genuine. "What does that mean?"

"The specifics are beyond my knowledge," she answered, her eyes never leaving mine. "I cannot provide answers I do not possess."

Rage bubbled within me, but I forced it down, my clenched fists the only visible sign of my rage. Through gritted teeth, I demanded, "Then find them. And fast."

The witch flinched slightly, fear apparent in her eyes. She nodded and turned to leave, but I wasn't done. "If your binding spell is the cause of this," I hissed menacingly. “then pray to never see you again.”

The witch froze but did not turn around. She stood there, rooted in place for a heartbeat longer, before continuing her exit.

Left alone in the hollow quiet of the grand hall, anger and frustration built up within me. Curses have an end date. What kind of cryptic nonsense was that? Every mark on my skin, a testament to a life extinguished by my cursed touch, seemed to pulse in defiance. An end date could mean many things, but why now? Why the pain that had wracked my body just the night before?

I rose from the throne, my steps echoing as I paced the empty hall. Each stride was an outlet for my pent-up fury, my desperate need for answers. And what if the witch couldn't find any? What if this pain was merely a prelude to something even more dreadful?

Rykor had been on my mind, a confusing presence that had disrupted the carefully constructed barriers I had placed around myself. Why had he come to me, and why did his words resonate so deeply? He was just another alpha, another potential rival. His curiosity about me should not matter.

And yet, it did.

I couldn't afford these distractions and couldn't let my focus waver. But the more I tried to dismiss his image from my thoughts, the more persistent it became. Was this a warning? Could he be the next life I would unwillingly take?

No. I needed to stay strong, stay vigilant. The intricate dance of power and loyalty, the complex web of bonds in our world, was something I understood well. Emotions had no place here, only strategy and survival.

But then it came to me: what if he was the one that had caused me the pain? Placed another curse on me to end what his father had started?

“Yuri!” I yelled, my voice bouncing off the walls.

Within seconds Yuri was there, worry covering every inch of his face. “Yes, Nikita?”

“Alpha Rykor,” I said, my voice lacking any emotions. “Bring him to me.”