Page 62 of The Unwanted Mate of the Lycan Kings (Unwanted #1)

Finally, the last vision comes, and a wave of déjà vu washes over me when I find myself standing in the city center.

The city center is packed with a frenzied crowd, their faces twisted with hatred and fear as they watch Queen Litha—a witch’s high Priestess—being dragged to a pillar. They chant for her death and chant for the end of the bloodshed and war that taints their kingdom.

As the flames lick up the stack of wood to her feet, Litha’s eyes remain defiant. Her gaze sweeps over the three kings before settling on King Theron. Her voice, though strained by pain, rings out with eerie clarity.

By the flame that consumes me, I curse you all with the seven sins that taint your souls! As I burn, so shall you burn!

Her words hang heavily in the air, her power infusing them with an undeniable weight as thunder rolls across the sky. It’s as if the end of time is coming. The crowd recoils, their excitement dampened by the palpable energy that surrounds Litha as she speaks.

Turning her gaze to King Theron, she smiles.

It’s an unsettling sight amid the flickering firelight.

“To break the curse, you must find the oracle. Kill the oracle, and the seven virtues will be revealed. Only then will another female lycan be born,” my mother warns as her dress suddenly catches fire.

Theron laughs. “You think you can curse an entire species, Litha? You’re powerless, or you would have escaped. You’re no witch. No real witch ever burned at the stake.”

Litha laughs at his words, but I find myself almost unable to watch. The scene is horrific as her legs burn, but she does not stomp her feet or scream. Instead, she lifts her head to the sky and smiles.

“You’re right.”

King Theron huffs with smug satisfaction while the flames grow higher. Sweat beads on my mother’s face, neck, and chest. Her pain is visible, and her breathing becomes labored.

When she speaks, her pain cracks and splinters her voice. “Witches don’t burn at your stake...not unless we choose to.”

Theron’s manic laughter cuts off. Murmurs break out when the sound of eerie humming charges the air. Then my mother’s chanting surrounds us.

In the shadows cast by a fire’s glow, where sinners hide, and virtues grow.

Lightning cracks like a whip across the sky.

I call upon fate’s powers to weave my magic in this hour. Seven sins, born from dark, your immortal souls now bear by my mark!

As the words leave her mouth, Regan, Lyon, and Zeke scream, dropping to their knees, ripping at their flesh as if they too are burning by invisible flames. Before Litha can finish the curse, she slumps forward and screams her anguish, trying to speak again.

Regan, Zeke, and Lyon stop screaming, and everyone looks around when the brewing storm suddenly stops, and the night sky clears. Murmurs break out, and suddenly a woman in a black cloak steps forward with her arms raised to the moon and tears streaming down her face.

“In the shadows cast by a fire’s glow, where sinners hide, and virtues grow, I call upon the ancient powers to weave my magic in this hour.”

“No!” my mother screams at the woman.

“We stand with you,” the woman speaks, and my mother shakes her head as she screams. Another woman steps forward out of the crowd and joins her chant.

Her coven.

Seven sins, born from dark. Your immortal souls now bear her mark.

A third woman comes forward.

Amidst your vices, she’ll burn brightly. Within the seven virtues, she shall stand, her light shining throughout the land.

“No,” Litha chokes out, lifting her head, her face burning, and her skin turning black like charcoal. Yet, the witches keep stepping forward to take center stage, refusing to let her death be in vain as they continue to chant.

A woman of virtue, pure and strong, to right the wrongs and end our priestess’ song. Chosen by fate, her heart aflame, she’ll be your salvation or your condemnation!

Power singes the air as a storm so brutal rips through the kingdom screaming their anger and devastation.

Screaming their vengeance.

The next second, the entire city square of the kingdom erupts in chaos when her coven sets themselves on fire to burn along with her.

My entire body jolts as I’m ripped out my mother’s past and plunged into a reality where history is about to repeat itself.

I’m haunted by the memory of my mother’s death, her last moments spent burning at the stake. I can still hear her screams, the screams of her coven, her curses filling the air as the memory fades.

But now I find myself back in the present, trapped by the very curse my mother had set in motion so long ago. As the flames rise higher, threatening to consume me, I wonder if there is any hope for escape, or if my fate is sealed just like hers was.

The crowd watches with bated breath, their eyes wide and fearful.

Some shout for mercy, while others call for my death.

Their voices blend into a cacophony that threatens to drown out my thoughts.

The torches close in on me, their flames just inches away from my skin, and I close my eyes, bracing myself for the pain.

Suddenly, the sound of a powerful growl echoes through the city center, causing the crowd to gasp and the guards to falter.

Gnash, Hunter, and Shadow prowl through the street, forcing the guards to back up.

My eyes scan the crowd to see Malachi, followed by Regan, Zeke, and Lyon—emerging from the crowd, their eyes burning with fury.

“We won’t let you do this!” Lyon shouts, but Theron’s face remains impassive, his cold eyes locked on mine as the flames continue to climb higher.

“Father, stop this madness!” Zeke pleads, his voice filled with desperation.

“She’s not Litha! She’s not responsible for the curse!” Regan argues.

“Burn her...” King Theron snarls. I watch, horrified, when I see a guard move toward the pile of wood with fuel.

“Stop them,” Theron orders when Regan, Zeke, and Lyon attack the guards, trying to get to me, just as the pile is doused in fuel. Flames explode, and my mates scream as fire licks up my legs, the pain is unbearable, and I scream.

“Stay in position!” I hear Kelly scream, my eyes snapping open as I take in the witches surrounding me. Only then do I notice their positioning puts me in the center of a pentagram.

My mind tries to figure out what’s going on, yet I can’t think past the pain and chaos. Rough hands grip my face, and Zeke is suddenly standing on the pillar beside me. He’s frantically trying to undo the chains, and all I can do is slump forward against him.

“NO...NO...NO!” Zeke screams.

“You’re burning,” I mumble as he yanks on the chains.

Zeke screams, and at first I think it’s from the pain, but no, he’s screaming for help. Another set of hands grabs me as Regan tries breaking the chains. I no longer feel the pain.

I feel nothing. I see nothing. But I can still hear them. I can feel their chants like energy—a pulse.

Suddenly, teeth sink into my neck, and Theron screams in fury.

“I won’t let her die!” Regan snarls, and my eyes flutter open to see his lips covered in blood.

Shadow Mystics weave magic, strong, and true,

As one, we stand together, a coven formed anew.

Beneath the moon’s shadow, our sisterhood holds.

“Stop them!” Theron snarls at his guards, but none dare approach the coven.

I call upon the timeless force to guide our path and set the course. From the flames, she rises, fierce and bold.

Warmth makes my spine tingle, when another set of teeth embed in my flesh. Lyon’s...

A goddess of virtues, a high priestess witch, born from flames. She’ll be the first and last of her kind. So beware of the fire in her eyes, seek her mercy, for she alone can tip the scales and take your lives.

Then Zeke marks me, and all three of them are trying to change me, heal me, but what they don’t realize is they’re poisoning me.

I can feel it. My skin suddenly feels cold, despite the flames that burn it.

And the longer I burn, they do as well. I am as good as dead anyway. But they won’t die with me.

So embrace her wrath or seek her grace. By the moon’s light, I invoke this sacred rite. Unleash the balance, truth revealed, in her hands, your fates now sealed.

Then everything explodes when I use the last rune.

Fire.

And that is when I hear a voice, a voice I thought I’d never hear again.

Granny’s.

Her voice is clear and like a crack of thunder as it echoes through the night.

And from the flames, an oracle is born. The last female lycan. Your true queen.

The coven’s chant rings loud and clear but nowhere near as loud as hers. The pain, however, becomes too much as I fade away like the ashes of my mother, but not before hearing her last words ring out like a prayer.

A queen of virtues that rings true, but make no mistake, she no longer bows to you.

Then total darkness engulfs me as do the flames.