Pack deep in the mountain

Letting out a deep breath, Damien gazed at the wall. He had been doing that for a long time. However, at this time, he had nothing in mind; he just enjoyed doing it.

Also, it was to escape the many thoughts that had been trying to slip into his head.

The delicate painting on the wall- a painting of a scantily-clad woman wielding a bow in one hand and a torch in the other hand. The moon was a crown on top of her head, and her feet were silvery anklets that glistened. This picture often found a way to calm him each time.

Sniffing in, his eyes narrowed as another familiar scent wafted into his nostrils, "Mark," He muttered.

He was here. What did he want?

Damien had made it clear the last time to limit his coming to his packhouse, but Mark was too stubborn to listen.

He gazed at the door as it opened, and the two Etas that often ushered visitors in were in front of Mark as he swaggered in.

His hands were tucked into the pocket of the pants he wore, and a bright smile formed on his face.

Mark's green eyes twinkled as they locked on mine, and he rolled my eyes.

The etas did a slight bow, and he shook Damien's head, dismissing both of them.

"To what do I owe this visit?" Damien questioned as soon as the Etas left the room.

He stepped away from the wall he had been staring at to walk to the corner of the room where a bar was situated, grabbed a wine glass, and filled it with rum, extending it to Mark.

Mark was not a new visitor in his pack house. In fact, he was an Alpha, just like him—the alpha of a neighbouring pack and his best friend.

The only surviving friend he had and the only one that wasn't affected by the damned cursed.

Mark watched as Damien returned to where he had been standing. His brows were creased, and his gaze seemed far away. He was lost in thought. It wasn't like this would be the first time he had seen him in such a situation.

Mark downed the contents of the wine glass, wincing before setting it down, "Don't you think it's Luna's job to present a wine to her mate's friend? At least if you had one, you won't have to stress yourself out by doing the job."

"I'm not stressing myself out. It's just pouring wine, and there's no real work in that," Damien grunted.

He walked to the sofa closer to Mark and sat. "Why are you here?" he asked again, crossing his legs. "Don't tell me you are here to mock me about my inability to get a Luna?"

Mark frowned, "Is your closest friend not allowed in your presence anymore? You wound me with your words, Damien."

"No, I am not saying that," Damien shook his head. "You understand my situation and are very much aware of how dangerous it is for you to keep coming here."

"You need not bother yourself about that. Besides, I look fine. Do I look like who's dying anytime soon?" Mark asked, assessing himself.

He couldn't tell the same for Damien, though. With the appearance of a twenty-five-year-old, tall, domineering, he was, in fact, old.

Damien was times six of the present age, he was assuming.

Mark was right, Damien mused. He looked hale and hearty and wasn't even exhibiting any of the symptoms of the others.

"Besides, the reason I am here is to remind you that you can't lock yourself up forever in your packhouse wall and wait for the curse breaker to waltz into your life. You need to stand up and search for her yourself." Mark said.

A scowl formed on Damien's face as he reminded him of his situation once again.

He once had a mate; Alicia was her name. Beautiful Alicia had been excited to be with him forever, but she had died mysteriously after an illness.

He had a second chance, mate, but it was the same until the third, fourth, and even the tenth came along, but they all died.

The irony was each of them died in his arms. Each had turned cold, unmoving, and not breathing.

He had been made to watch his loved ones' lives snuffed out of them one after the other, all because of a curse.

It wasn't only his mate who suffered from the curse; his friends weren't spared, and the worst thing that ever happened was it taking his child away.

The child he had thought would be ruled after him. The curse had killed him even before his birth.

Damien had never thought of getting another mate ever since. He didn't want his situation to repeat itself, but he was suffering.

The curse breaker was said to be his true mate; at least, that was what the oracle had told him.

"Damien..."

"No, Mark, you listen. For 100 fucking years, I had tried my best to find the fucking so-called curse breaker. I scoured every damned pack house, yet, and I see no one. Don't come here to suggest whatever to me because I feel you are trying to jest me," he said, turning his back to him.

He was furious, with the goddess most especially. She hadn't even thought of a cure for him. She had made him suffer. Shit, she was up staring at him and smiling at his misfortune.

He was certain of that.

At this juncture, he was going to die alone if he didn't find the true mate that was prophesied soon. But he knew dying wasn't an option for him. The stupid curse had come with immortality.

He was going to remain miserable for the rest of his life. He was going to watch everyone grow old while he became a maniac until the goddess showed him mercy and took his life eventually.

"Damien,"

"Leave me, Mark. I think I don't want to be bothered by anyone," he said, snapping my fingers to signal the etas that were by the door to lead Mark out.

"I know of a pack on the mountainside and east of Laseria." Mark rushed out.

A pack? Damien frowned.

Turning to gaze at Mark, he halted the Etas that had just stepped into the room.

Mark continued with a nod as he had gotten Damien's attention once again, "I know you haven't gone to this particular pack. Also, the most amazing thing about this particular pack is they have lots of females there." he grinned.

"I do not understand. How is it meant to help my situation?" Damien asked him with a frown. "If you are trying to say something to me, give me some more information."

"All I am saying is that Pack will have your mate; you should check it out," He said.

His true mate could be in that pack? He mused. He was damned sure he had searched everywhere, and his enforcers had done the same, too, but there had been no profitable result whatsoever.

He didn't know the pack Mark was talking about, but there was no harm in searching it out.

"So, is that look an affirmation that you are going to search it out?" Mark asked. He looked somewhat eager and excited.

Damien didn't know what was going on in his head, but he doubted he meant any harm.

Both of them had been friends for a long time, and he definitely meant well for him.

"And if I don't see her, consider your tongue gone. No, not just your tongue; I am going to fucking hunt you down and sever your head from your neck," Damien warned.

"Is that a threat?" Mark raised a brow, and Damien shrugged.

"Call it whatever, Mark; I hope you are telling me the truth about this pack having a lot of maidens," he said.

"I am Damien. I wouldn't joke with you when I know the severity of the situation." He said.

Mark knew Damien could go ahead with his threat, and it sounded even scarier as he could decide to go on with it right now, but then he wasn't afraid, strangely.

"Leave me now; I'd like to be alone," Damien murmured, turning to the wall once again. "I'll leave the first light tomorrow for the pack, be ready."

Mark nodded and stepped towards the door without any more questions.