FOREDOOMED

Chapter 1.1

A woman was sleeping soundly while levitating on air, her hands clasped together above her abdomen. Encircling her entire body was an ocean ray of light in which two twisted blue and green threads were attached to it, allowing to flow sparkling energy coming from a glowing ball, that was floating around the hands of a male healer. Behind him was Henric, the King of Werewolves, who was pacing back and forth with his eyes locked on her alone as he anticipated any movement, yet there was none, except for her steady breathing.

A day had passed since King Henric brought her to the castle and the healer treating her, but she remained unconscious. King Henric blamed no one but his second in command, the royal beta, who had shot her a tranquilizer embedded with a magic spell that could put into sleep even the most feral werewolf. And she was only a human, a fragile Inferus.

His hands clutched into a fist as he thought of many several ways of torturing the royal beta before he would take his life if the woman would not open her eyes this very night. The royal beta was a loyal servant, the strongest and most capable among his generals, but his action proved to be reckless and plain dumb. He should have chosen the tranquilizer designed for Inferus. Those stupid Inferus who would try to attack them.

Gone were those days when a Dominus (any superbeings) could kill any Inferus to their liking. The High Council deemed that as a brutal and savage means to s*******r Inferus, so they passed a law to protect human lives. Presently, all Dominus are bound to that law, prohibiting them to kill any Inferus even if provoked.

King Henric saw it as an oppressive law to suppress their power and thereby, limiting their freedom to assert their dominance. But even if he despised that law, he chose to abide by it. He would not dare risk his throne. But because of his beta’s stupid antics of giving the woman, his second chance mate, a lethal tranquilizer and him giving that order, it could lead to an investigation by the High Council. Henric knew he would be implicated the most, not his dumb beta.

The healer addressing him snapped him out of contemplation. His eyes narrowed when he saw the healer standing in front of him and his assistant was the one manipulating the glowing ball and doing what supposed was his duty.

“She’s highly trained, Your Highness,” the healer explained. Though that only sharpened the king’s gaze on him. “The tranquilizer is not the cause of her unconsciousness,” he quickly added before the king could lose his temper. Working for him for many years, the healer had witnessed the king’s ruthlessness quickly resurfacing due to his impatience.

“Explain,” he commanded in a deep voice.

“I’ve already removed all the traces of dark spell in her body,” he readily answered. The process of removing a highly powerful magic spell from either Dominus or Inferus usually took a few hours. But since the tranquilizer took effect for an hour before the healer got to treat her, it took him more than a day to completely heal her. The gods must have favored this woman, for she could have died instantly after she got shot with how dangerously potent the tranquilizer was.

“Since she isn’t waking up, I check if she had any terminal human disease, and I found none,” the healer continued.

“Then why?” he growled lowly, hinting at his impatience.

The healer wiped the sweat on his forehead. “That, Your Highness, is a mystery I’m attempting to uncover. I have done--”

“Choose wisely your next words, Healer. It could be your last.” It wasn’t an empty threat as he intended to snap his head if his words displeased him.

The healer gulped down when he found his throat suddenly dry. “Judging from her extremities, she is undernourished and seemed to have been overworked to the extent that her body gave in. If you haven’t found her, she might have died due to extreme fatigue.”

Recalling the woman helplessly lying on the floor as she seemed to want to flee upon seeing them but couldn’t do so, Henric thought the healer’s analysis did make sense. Her frail mortality was indeed a burden he had to bear though for some time only. He wasn’t a patient man, but for him to retain on his grasp the one thing he desired the most, he must bid his time with utmost tolerance.

“When will she wake up?” he asked, eyeing back the woman who was still sleeping peacefully, the ocean blue light surrounding her was now turning to fiery silvery flames. It appeared as though she was on a pyre, except it wasn’t a ritual for burying the dead but for revitalization.

“That, your highness, seems to be uncer--”

King Henric strangled the healer’s neck in one swift motion. “When?” he asked, tightening just enough for the healer to breathe in some way.

“A… a… w-week,” the healer gasped out.

The healer's assistant could only watch in horror as his master was struggling to breathe. Healers weren’t trained to fight, and even if they were, the two of them were no match to the King of Werewolves.

Henric let him go, and he staggered down on the ceramic floor, coughing badly while caressing his neck that had some red marks from Henric's sharp fingernails.

“If she doesn’t wake up after a week...” he purposely trailed off and glared at him, his golden eyes flickering into deep black as though giving him a hint of what was bound to happen to him.

Killing him would not be a problem as the healer worked under him. He could punish any of his subjects depending on the severity of the crime committed, and death penalty was the highest form of punishment he could impose on them. He could simply claim the healer tried to poison the woman, thereby, warranting a death penalty. And the High Council could do nothing about it.

“She will, your highness,” the healer promised, still caressing his neck to heal the red marks on it.

Henric strode out of the room and ordered the guards to release the royal beta from the dungeon through mind link-- a special means of communicating through minds that only werewolves were gifted. The story of how the werewolves were the only supernatural beings to have possessed such power was told and retold many a night to children werewolves every bedtime.

It all started with Cailia and Sol who were both the children of Havic, the High One, to different deities. Raised together, the two siblings grew closer to one another, which soon blossomed into a f*******n love. When Cailia gave birth to their first child, he was stolen by Jahara, the daughter of Freya and Sol’s destined bride. Cailia begged her father Havic to return the child to them, but even the High One could do nothing as the infant was already sent to Earth. Those who left Heofone, the paradise where the gods and goddesses lived, and set foot on Earth can never return. It was one absolute law that no one can break. But Havic could bestow the infant a special gift to communicate to Cailia and Sol-- the power of mind link. There was, howbeit, a condition the lovers must fulfill. Cailia would become the goddess of moon and Sol the god of sun, thus separating the two forever. How painful it might be, Cailia and Sol agreed. And that infant who was Lycaon became the first werewolf, the first alpha, and king of a pack. All his descendants became the next ruling kings, and Henric was one of them.

King Henric loathed that story, any story about manipulative gods and goddesses who thought they could play on their hands the lives of any supernatural being. King Henric believed he was in charge of his life—the maker of his own destiny. And now that he had in his grasp what would sustain his power and gain more, he was all set in to continue his plan of ruling over the Earth. And no one, not even any god or goddesses, could stop him.

Howbeit, King Henric’s plan had to be stalled again. The woman remained unconscious even after a week had passed. He needed the woman to be awake, for his plan to push through. Killing the healer was the only means to calm his rage, but he already ran away. His warriors were now hunting him down, and he could have led them, but he would never leave the castle until the woman woke up.

The female assistant healer was now checking the woman, who was now sleeping in a bed in her room. They stopped using their healing power on her since they had done everything they could possibly do.

“She is perfectly fine, Your Highness,” the female healer said as he faced the king who looked nothing but a dangerously calm volcano that could erupt at any moment. And she would be the first to take the blow of his seething rage. “Your highness, please,” she begged, kneeling instantly.

“Why is she not waking up?” King Henric asked gruffly, reigning in his rage. He wanted an answer first.

“Her body has already recovered, but it seems her mind not wanting to wake up,” she nervously mumbled while clutching tightly her white pants.

“Elaborate,” King Henric growled.

The female healer knew she could be taking her last breaths at this moment, and it would be the king strangling her to death. “Your Highness, the best healer had already left. And it would take days before you can find another one. I am the only one you got,” she reasoned, though her voice was faltering at every next word she uttered.

“Wrong answer, Healer,” King Henric replied, the roughness in his voice seemed to have toned down.

That however did notice by the female healer, as she thought the king would kill him, but he didn't move. That somehow encouraged her to talk. “She is already healed, my master made sure of that. It’s all up to her now. We just have to wait.”

King Henric might be dissatisfied with her answers, but not with her bold honesty. She could have easily lied and given him the answer he wanted to hear just to spare her life, but she opted to be honest. “For how long?”

“I could not tell. But I’m sure she would wake when she feels ready,” the healer replied in a steady voice.

That calmed him down a bit. Deciding not to kill the female healer as her reward for being honest, he ordered her to get out. The female healer did not waste any time and went out as fast as she could.

Left alone with the woman, he went closer to her bed. Her black skin did not appear as sickly pale as compared before, though she was still thin. He bent down and whispered close to her ears, “I’ll wait for you.” Then he grabbed one of the stools and sat next to her bed, his eyes fully locked to hers.

A month had passed, but she remained unconscious. Even if King Henric was losing his patience every passing day, he still spent most of his time in her bedroom and staring at her. It was only the honest reassurance of the female healer that kept him from not killing her.

He vowed to be patient, for her, for his beautiful mate. No, he shook his head to get that foul thought out of his mind. This was all for his plan, his grand plan.

Another day had begun. It was just the same ordinary day, except it was raining hard with thunder booming relentlessly and thunder flashing loudly in broad daylight. However chaotic was outside, the woman remained sleeping peacefully.

King Henric who was her daily visitor every morning was absent today because he had to attend an important meeting in which his presence was badly needed, not any of his representatives. Only a single maidservant was inside her room while cleaning.

It might be the discordant combination of the loud rambling of thunder and the piercing sound of lightning penetrating forcefully into her ears that elicited some sort of reaction from her stagnant body. It was like a noise, an irritating noise disturbing her peaceful rest. She wanted it to stop, and there was only one way to do that. Her eyelids were soon fluttering before she finally opened her eyes, welcoming her to a very unfamiliar room.