Wolf King’s Cursed Mate

A man of great strength and unwavering determination, Lykaios the Wolf King, felt that sleep itself was becoming an increasingly persistent tormentor in his nights. Usually, the soft pillows and soft sheets provided a haven, a moment's escape from the weight of his crown. However, sleep had turned into a cruel thing that bring up only images of fear tonight. A web of nightmares, each more intense and disturbing than the one before, ensnared him. His thoughts was flooded with images of a strange woman, her face twisted in pain. Her screams were a haunting sound of fear and desperation that reverberated in the inner depths of his brain. He was aware that these dreams were not new to him; they had been a persistent source of agony for all these years. But tonight, the woman's cries were more piercing than ever, and her fear was evident. "Kai... Kai..." Her voice carried an unaccustomed closeness, despite being warped by fear. The name was a strange whisper in his ear, a piece of his own. No one in the kingdom had ever referred to the wolf king as Kai. The name was a ghost, a piece of a life he had never known. The appearance of the woman was equally confusing. Red like Crimson fire was the colour of her long, flowing hair, which fell soft above her hips. But the most remarkable thing about her were her eyes, which were bright, cat-like, and brimming with an old grief. They gave him a terrifying sense of fear and connection after piercing the depths of his dream. Lykaios woke suddenly, gasping for some air, his palm extended as though attempting to seize the vanishing ghost. His brow was soaked in sweat, and his heart raced like a snagged bird against his chest. With strained and hitched breath, he sat up and looked around the dark room he was in. The eerie ambiance was heightened by the lengthy, swirling shades created by the moonlight filtered through the arched windows. He attempted to shake off the residual terror by running a hand through his black, matted hair. A faint, ethereal glow pulsed from the wolf tattoo on his neck, a representation of his power and ancestry. In an unconscious attempt to ground himself, he touched it. As usual, the dream left him deeply uneasy and with a nagging question: who was she? Why did she give him the name Kai? He couldn't get rid of the enigma that kept bugging him. He ruled over the vast and wild regions of Alvanova as the Wolf King, Lykaios Draven. His people were devoted to him, his warriors respected him, and his enemies feared him. But he could do nothing to stop the strange murmurs in his dreams. His old and reliable counsel, Lord Valtor, appeared in room as the enormous oak doors of his chamber suddenly sprang open. A look of terrified concern overtook the elderly lord's normally calm expression. He had heard the scream of the wolf, a sound that had never come from the king's lips before. “My king, are you alright?" Despite his old age, Lord Valtor's voice was resolute and powerful. His shaky fingers held a flickering candle, whose warm glow repelled the approaching darkness as he walked. With a raspy voice, Lykaios nodded. "Valtor, I'm doing fine. It’s only a nightmare. Valtor shot back, his gaze scouring Lykaios's face. "A nightmare that made you scream like a man possessed," he said. "My king, these dreams have tormented you for years. Every time, they get more intense.” Since Lykaios was a little child, Valtor had been a confidant and father figure to him. He had seen the strength, the determination, and the ascend to power of the young king. Additionally, he had seen the gloom that tormented the wolf king’s sleep, the silent weight the king had endure Lykaios adamantly stated, "It is nothing," but his tone was unconvinced. "Just a fleeting image once again." A low voice muttered, "A fleeting image that calls you by a name you do not know," Valtor remarked. "A name that stirs something deep within you." With a sigh, Lykaios turned his eyes to the window. "Valtor, I do not understand it. I don't remember ever being called Kai.” Valtor's forehead wrinkled. “Kai? That is a name I have never heard of. Are you sure?" “Absolutely," Lykaios said, his gaze focused on the candlelight that keeps on flickering abit. "And my wolf tattoo... it is glowing." Valtor said, "Perhaps it is not a memory, but a warning," with worried eyes. However, he had never seen the tattoo glow so brightly before since he had known the young king. "A glimpse into a future yet to come." The old lord added, because even he is unsure of what is happening and as such this is the only possible explanation. Lykaios laughed and brushed the old man’s idea aside. "Valtor, I don't think prophecies exist. I am not a seer; I am a ruler. Valtor answered, "Even kings have their blind spots," in a kind but stern tone. “And occasionally, the future's realities can be uncovered by the murmurs of the past. My king , this woman's cries and the name Kai are more than just dreams.They're a sign.” The weight of Lykaios's discomfort was increased by the elderly lord's remarks and words which lingered in the air. Valtor was correct, and the wolf King knew. “Maybe she was trying to convey something to you… something you still don’t understand.” Old Lord Valtor used his sense to add it together. “I think next time you shouldn’t wake up early and try to understand what she is trying to tell you.” These were not just typical nightmares. They were a mystery, a problem, and he had to figure it out. And Lykaios realised as he looked out into the moonlit night that the answers he was looking for were buried deep within his dreams, just waiting to be discovered. “My king, do you think she is related to your mother?”