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Poisoned
And he fell asleep again.
+*+*+*+*+“What are you doing here?” he asked. His voice sounded weak like he was tired from a long run.“You sent for me,” I responded with a bow.“I sent for…” and he began coughing.I was by his side the next second and when I placed my hand on his forehead I could tell that he was sick, very sick. I guessed it must have been why he had been hallucinating earlier.“Your Majesty, I shall send for the physician,” I said but before I could leave he held my arm.“Just inform Theo, you don't know where the physician is,” it was surreal to hear his voice sound so hoarse and weak; I suddenly felt pity for him.“I wouldn't know where…”“He'll be outside,” he responded weakly.I left the Alpha's room and Cyrus was right, Theo was standing guard outside. Without a word he pushed me aside and stepped in.“I will get your physician here,” said Theo.Related chapters
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Cyrus' POV I could see the slight shock on Agnes' face clouded with fear. That was a good thing; I wanted her to be afraid. I did not like her stubborn spirit. It seemed to me that she was yet to understand the severity of the situation she was in as a human living among werewolves. She was too free-spirited and said whatever came to her mind. “You care too much,” Theo remarked.I could not deny it anymore. I did care a great deal about Agnes. I was constantly worried about her safety yet I had my suspicions about her. What if she betrayed me like those humans that Agatha had died trying to save? I looked at her eyes. They were clearly like the ocean on a calm day; they were not the eyes of betrayal; there was no evil intent in them, yet these things were not written on the forehead or etched in one’s eyes. “She will remain by my side, Theo. If you see her wander about on her own do as you please with her,” I had m
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"May I see you for a bit?" Theo opened the door without knocking. "Of course," Cyrus said, stepping forward. "Is it urgent?""Not exactly.""Okay then, what is it?""I'd prefer this to be a private discussion," Theo sighed. Cyrus gave him a long and hard look before the two men finally stepped out of the room. "She's not your wife," Theo said to Cyrus once they were out of the room. From the way his voice sounded, I knew he was quite annoyed. "She can't be with you all day.""She's my slave," Cyrus remarked. "I should not be sending someone to call for her if I need her so it's best she's in my room.""She's sleeping in your room now?" Theo scoffed. "Seriously?""Theo, you need to loosen up on this," I heard Cyrus give an exasperated sigh. "When I first brought her here, you seemed to like her.""Not until she started brainwashing you.""She's not brainwashing me," Cyrus said. "Good
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Dawn had broken a long time before I woke up. The harsh sun filtered its way through the slit in the curtains, prying my eyes open painfully. A splitting headache disturbed my senses so I was forced to roll away from the sun's direction. I stood up and yawned, looking around me. Cyrus was not in the room but there was a note on the bedside table together with a meal and a strange looking concoction. You had a fever this morning, drink this so you can get well and be sure to finish your meal. Make sure you do not step a foot outside this room, I'm sure the memories of the arena are still fresh in your mind.I shuddered, remembering the arena, and walked towards the door. It seemed to be bolted from the outside. I wondered how I was going to have my bath this morning but when I turned the back of the paper, a short note said. Your daily essentials are in my bathroom, use it.Sighing, I walked to the very large bathroom and took my bath very comfortably. It was very different from the
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Cyrus' POV"Your Majesty!" Agnes appeared flustered by my presence, the smile that had been on her face was wiped off immediately and she appeared to be nervous. She stood up immediately and put her hands behind her back, twirling the paintbrush behind her. "I... I apologize... I had nothing to do and...""That wolf, what... Inspired it?" I was looking at a painting of Agatha. I began to wonder if it was witchcraft or if she just had a gift. Was it possible she had met Agatha before she died?I knew Agatha had related a lot with humans but it had been many years ago so there was no way she could have met Agnes."I don't know," she stammered. "I just... I just started painting and…”“And?” I stood there stupefied and kept looking from the wolf on the canvas to the human slave I had bought. “It's just a painting, nothing inspired it,” she responded with a casual shrug. I checked her face for something that would tell me she was lying but there was nothing. There was no way she had dibs
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Cyrus' POV There was no birthmark where Lord Salmon had said there should be. “This doesn't prove anything. He could be lying,” exclaimed Larog. “His wife would know,” added Lord Salmon. I was at an impasse but I had a nagging feeling that this was a distraction from the real issue.“Have the both of them locked in separate cells until we locate the governor's wife,” my tone carried boredom, I was no longer interested. But something happened just then; the nephew's skin began to sizzle as though it was burning. A shape shifting werewolf; a rarity but it was not impossible. Slowly the man's skin began to burn and it was not until he was fully covered in smoke that the change happened. Once the smoke had cleared, the image of another man replaced the governor. *+*+*+*+*+“What do we do about the shape shifter?” everybody had left and it was just me and Theo left in the throne room.
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The Alpha's Slave Torture Again
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The Alpha's Slave Care
Cyrus' POV I was shocked at the extent of damage that had been done to her body and even more surprised that I had not caught on earlier. I had a strong sense of smell as a werewolf and even more because I was Alpha. How had I failed to notice this? How had I not perceived this? The drinking from yesterday? Was that it? “Who did this to you?” I asked again when I received no response the first time. My question seemed to evoke fear in her as her eyes betrayed her emotions. “Agnes?” but all I got in response was a whimper of pain. “Please say something,” I said to her. I needed to put a name to the rage that was brewing in my chest. This was an insult; someone had dared to lay a finger on what was mine and I had a mind to make the person suffer, whoever it was. “No one, I… I did this…did…this myself,” I could tell she was lying. She was lying and she was doing so out of fear. I wanted to tell her that no matter how scary this person w
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