Page 9 of Destined to the Lycan (The Shadow Realms #3)

“Some of my blood, once I’m cured. She will be able to derive a potent antidote from it,” Amara explained, then swiftly raised her palms in an appeasing gesture upon seeing my scandalized expression.

“Don’t worry. I’m well-aware of the fact that my blood in her hands could be used in extremely harmful ways against me.

But she pledged not to wrong me and to exclusively use my blood to extract a serum, which will also only be used for good. ”

“A pledge?!” I exclaimed, flabbergasted. “You extracted a pledge from the Weaver?!”

Amara shook her head. “I didn’t extract anything, she volunteered it.

My reaction to her request made it clear I wasn’t comfortable with giving an ingredient against me to an arcanist of her caliber.

Whoever she intends to cure with that serum must be of great importance to her,” she added pensively.

“Hmmm,” I responded in a non-committal fashion. “And what is the antidote you seek in the mountains?”

My Twin Flame shifted uneasily in her seat. She absentmindedly reached for the medallion of her necklace. I didn’t know the tear-shaped, amber-colored stone in it, but watching her dainty fingers fiddle with it hypnotized me.

“I must receive two different poisons to counter the one currently killing me. The first is a bite from the Cursed Demon Wolf’s snake tail to destroy the poison in my veins. And once it’s done, I need him to bite me with his fangs. His saliva will neutralize his venom. And then I’ll be cured.”

Despite Misty’s warning, I gaped at Amara, gob smacked. This was not only worse than what I expected, it was beyond insane.

“I know how crazy it sounds,” Amara added when I just continued to stare at her as if she’d lost her mind—which I was starting to believe might be the case.

“But the Weaver taught me a summoning ritual that will temporarily bind Ranael as my protector. During that short window, he won’t be able to do anything that would harm me. ”

“Injecting you with his snake’s venom is going to harm you!” I countered in a self-evident manner.

She gave me an indulgent smile and replied in a reasonable tone. “Technically, that’s true for anyone else. But in my case, it will actually do me good as it will eliminate the poison harming me.”

“Fine,” I conceded with reluctance. “Demon wolves are indeed protectors. But Ranael is rabid. He cannot be expected to respond normally to a protection summons.”

Without missing a beat, Amara relayed to me everything the Weaver told her on that front.

By the time she stopped, I felt beyond torn as to how I should respond.

This entire plan screamed of pure madness.

Like my peers, my instinctive reaction was to reject her request to assist her in this endeavor.

It genuinely struck me as murder-suicide.

However, she wasn’t just some random potential client.

Amara was my Twin Flame. For that alone, I had a duty to stand by her, come Hell or high water.

As much as I didn’t believe this mission had the slightest hope of success, I couldn’t dismiss the fact that the Weaver set her on this path.

Cliona Nox never got involved unless she truly believed the task could be achieved.

She also only ever helped if there was something in it for her, something unique that she fiercely coveted. She wanted my woman to succeed.

And this can save Amara’s life…

I ran nervous fingers through my hair as I continued to stare at her, deeply divided.

And yet, something on my face must have given away the fact that my heart had already caved even if my brain continued to grapple to come to terms with the inevitable.

The timid smile that settled on her lips, and the hopeful glimmer that lit up her beautiful eyes gave it away.

“I went to the Weaver four times, but her gates never opened for me,” I mused aloud with a hint of self-derision.

Amara looked at me with a curiosity laced with compassion. “May I ask why you went to her?” she asked in a soft voice.

I gave her an assessing look. “You have likely heard that I have certain… issues?”

To my relief, she didn’t play dumb or seem uncomfortable about it. She merely nodded, her expression still welcoming and attentive.

“Some people say you’re cursed, but Misty says you’re sick.”

It was my turn to nod. “Honestly, I think it’s a bit of both.

Thirty-three years ago, my parents went hunting but ran into Ranael.

That never should have happened as the demon wolf was lurking way outside of his usual roaming area.

He attacked them, and although my parents both managed to escape, my father was badly scratched.

They conceived me in the couple of days that followed the attack.

And then my father’s health suddenly started declining. ”

“Oh no,” Amara whispered with compassion.

“The first three days after the attack, he only thought that he was feeling unwell due to being bruised and battered. But on the fourth day, he declined at an exponential rate. Death claimed him on the twelfth day.”

“Your poor mother must have been devastated.”

“By all accounts, she was crushed. She had not been scratched, but her own health started declining in the weeks that followed. People initially assumed that it was depression and juggling a difficult pregnancy at the same time. But then, by the fifth month, they could smell Ranael on her—or rather around her womb.”

“Ranael’s venom had also infected your father’s seed!” Amara whispered in horrified understanding.

I nodded, my teeth clenched with the old anger that always resurfaced every time I thought of how that single dreadful encounter shattered our lives.

“They sought the help of every healer and shaman possible, but to no avail. My mother died at the beginning of the eighth month of her pregnancy. They had to cut me out of her body. Lycan usually come out of the womb in our human form. I came out in my wolf form, reeking of Ranael. In a nearly unanimous decision, the pack decided to cast me out and left me in the woods to either die of exposure or be eaten.”

“WHAT?! But you were an innocent child!” Amara exclaimed, outraged.

“I was,” I replied in a conciliatory tone. “But I understand their fear. I was a danger that would likely bring death and destruction to the pack. To many, I was an abomination, the unholy offspring of the Cursed Wolf.”

Amara shook her head, clearly disgusted. “Yet, despite their cruelty, you survived,” she added with awe.

That did something funny to me. People usually viewed my survival as further proof that I was some kind of unnatural creature that shouldn’t exist. They believed I enjoyed the protection of some unmentionable entity intent on unleashing me onto the world at the right time.

“Indeed, against all odds. A wildcat took me in. I never understood why she did it. After all, it’s not like she couldn’t smell Ranael on me, too.

And yet she raised me alongside her cubs as if I was her own,” I said, the old affection resurfacing for the wild beast who had shown me more compassion than my own people.

“That’s amazing!” Amara said with wonder. “I guess nothing beats a mother’s instinct to protect and nurture a youngling in need. But how did you reconnect with the pack?”

“A little after I turned two years old, the pack came hunting on her territory. Mama tried to protect me and my siblings, but I ended up being the one protecting all of them,” I said wistfully, then chuckled at her bemused expression.

“Even though we’re not the same species, I will always think of her and her cubs as my family, since they technically were in the first crucial years of my life. ”

“I can see that,” Amara replied with approval, which touched me further. “But how did you protect them? Did you attack the pack?”

I shook my head. “I just took a menacing stance in front of them, and the pack kind of freaked out when they saw me. As I had never learned how to speak, I had no idea what they were saying. But I found out later that they thought I was a demon or a revenant. They just hightailed it out of there. As one of the Wise of the pack, Misty came to investigate. It took many days of her carefully approaching and enticing me to earn my trust.”

“Wow! So your relationship goes a long way back!”

I nodded. “If not for her, I would have remained a feral beast. After a couple of months, she finally convinced me to come with her,” I said, my heart filling with love for the elderly woman.

“I don’t think I could have done so without Mama’s blessing.

But a part of her understood that I needed to go to my people to reach my full potential.

I continued to visit her until her passing a few years ago. ”

“Do you still see your siblings?” she asked gently.

“No. Most of them moved on as soon as they reached maturity. They were also growing uncomfortable with me the more ‘human’ I became,” I explained pensively.

“To better fit in, I was now almost always in my human form, whereas I had spent the first couple of years exclusively in my wolf form. It wasn’t easy learning to speak, walk on two legs, use my hands and utensils, cook food and all that other weird stuff people do.

Wearing clothes was definitely the most annoying part. ”

Amara snorted, and her eyes slightly went out of focus as she was likely trying to picture the younger version of myself throwing a tantrum at being asked to put clothes on.

“But how was life for you here after the pack accepted you?” she asked carefully.

I snorted with self-derision. “To this day, none of the packs have fully accepted me. They mostly tolerate me because of Misty. Now, things are better than back in the day, but I’m still somewhat of an outcast. They’re afraid of me.”

“Why is that?” she asked in the same soft voice thankfully devoid of any condemnation or suspicion.