Bitten by My Enemy Alpha

Chapter 4: Purification

"Lady Henrietta, you are being summoned."

She froze mid-swing, her wooden blade halting just before it could graze Hezekiah's arm. The guard's voice echoed across the courtyard, breaking the tension of their sparring.

Hezekiah's expression shifted at once, his brows furrowing. "Summoned? For what?"

The guard hesitated. "The High Council also requests your presence, my lord," he said to Hezekiah. Then, his eyes flickered between them. "Both of you."

Both.

The word settled heavily in Henrietta's chest. She and Hezekiah exchanged a look. It was a silent understanding passing between them that someone really heard their conversation that time.

Henrietta felt frightened, but still maintained the deadpan expression, while Hezekiah couldn't help but feel uneasy and concerned for his sister.

From that time, they knew well that the Order would soon find out, but they didn't expect that they would be confronted sooner.

Or so they thought.

'I hope that's not the case.' As twins, both of them thought the same thing, hoping that this wasn't about Henrietta's bite from the Alpha of the Moon Rose Pack.

She wiped her palms against her training tunic, forcing a steady breath. "We should go," she said softly.

They left the training ground and followed the guard who had asked them to be summoned. Their hearts were pounding as the walk through the corridor felt endless. It was still in the middle of midday, good for sparring, yet it felt like the surroundings had dimmed to darkness.

The fortress felt cold at this moment, which they had never felt before.

Hezekiah walked beside her, silent but tense. His elbow briefly brushed hers once, not out of affection, but warning. 'Stay calm.'

Henrietta answered back by doing the same action, her eyes on the front. It was reassuring to him that she was alright even though she felt agitated.

When they arrived, they were greeted by the grand hall doors, looking massive and carved with the sigil of the Argenthal Family. Two guards were stationed on each side, their faces expressionless as they pushed the doors open.

Inside, the pride they once felt upon entering and being greeted by their fellow hunters had faded. The air felt suffocating with incense and... judgment.

Henrietta and Hezekiah held their breath as they faced them.

Vladimir Argenthal sat upon his chair at the center dais, surrounded by the elders, along with their father, and high-ranking knights. His eyes looked calm and unreadable, following their every step.

Both of them knelt on one knee to greet him. "You have summoned us, my lord?" they asked in unison.

"Henrietta. Hezekiah." It was Demitri's voice, low and smooth. "Rise."

They obeyed. As they gawked at him, Henrietta couldn't help but swallow. She never thought that the pride she once had when facing the founder had now exchanged to something she couldn't name.

An elder rose. "During your mission, Lady Henrietta sustained a wound... or perhaps, let's say a bite."

Henrietta's jaw tightened. 'I knew this day would come...' she thought, but she maintained her composure. "Yes. But it was an attack. A defensive magical—"

"Do not interrupt." The elder's voice chimed in. "The bite bears the mark of corruption. We have reason to believe the beast had tainted her blood."

Hezekiah stepped forward immediately, his hands clenching. "That's impossible. I was there. She fought bravely... She didn't turn—"

Demitri's gaze snapped toward him. "Enough."

His voice was sharp and firm. It was the kind that silenced an entire hall. Hezekiah froze, his jaw clenching, but he didn't back down completely. His fists trembled at his sides.

Henrietta glanced at him briefly before turning her attention back to the council. "Father, please," she pleaded, her voice quivering despite her effort to keep steady. "You know I would never let myself be bitten willingly. It was part of the mission. Gideon Lacetti ambushed me and—"

"Then you failed to protect yourself," one of the elders cut in. His tone was smeared with disdain, looking at her in disgust as if she had a contagious disease. "Your failure has harbored impurity, Lady Henrietta."

Her lips parted, her throat tightening as if the invisible chains on her neck had adjusted. "Impurity?" she parroted, feeling bitterness on her tongue. "You think I've been—"

Vladimir raised a hand. And the whole room was enveloped in silence.

Henrietta was left with no choice as she couldn't continue what she was about to say because of it. She couldn't even defend herself properly if their minds were closed. And that frustrated her more.

"Enough," the clan leader said quietly. His voice carried more authority in a whisper than most men could muster. "You both speak of loyalty and bravery, yet forget what our purpose was founded upon..." he paused, darting his eyes in her direction as he continued, "Purity. Discipline. Devotion to the cause above all else."

Hezekiah's voice broke. It was low and shaking. "She is devoted. She's given her life for this Order since she could wield a blade!"

Vladimir's eyes pierced toward him. "And devotion does not excuse contamination."

Henrietta's heart rate paced. "C-Contamination?" she whispered, gulping. "My lord, you speak as if I'm diseased." Her eyes started to water, but she held her ground, never letting a single tear cascade down her cheek.

"You were bitten, child," Vladimir emphasized by softening his tone for only a moment, almost pitying her, but then, it turned frigid again. "And no human survives a bite from the cursed creatures without consequences. You know that."

She felt her heart breaking into two from his words, but still, she didn't want to stop there.

"B-But I'm alive!" Henrietta's voice cracked, desperation lingering that faltered her composure. "I'm still me, Lord Vladimir!"

Demitri's expression flickered, but only for an instant. "You should not be alive," he murmured. And the words cut deeper than a blade. "And that is what troubles us all."

She secretly gnashed her teeth. Even their father had turned his back on her. She thought that he was the person who could be her salvation, but she was wrong.

And that was enough had make Hezekiah feel thwart. His throat was throbbing. "So you'll condemn her for surviving? Mind you, she's one of the prodigy hunters we've ever had!"

"And we will protect the Order," Demitri pressed, his voice was as cold as ice. "That is all that matters."

Hezekiah looked at him in disbelief and couldn't believe that their father had changed his perspective just because of one bite.

Even Henrietta felt her knees weaken from his words. She felt her ground tilting; her world had been ending.

"Then what am I to you now?" she asked meekly to every elder. Her eyes couldn't dare to look at their father at this moment.

She felt... betrayed.

"An uncertainty," one elder replied coldly. "And uncertainties must be cleaned."

Henrietta's face had drained color. The words from the elder... It meant they were seeking her death.

Two guards stepped forward, their armor clinking. Hezekiah immediately shifted, stepping in front of his sister.

"Don't you dare touch her!" He silently cussed under his breath, looking at them dead. He was prepared to draw out the dagger that was kept in his holster belt if they dared to take Henrietta away.

And Demitri surmised what his son was going to do and rose this time, his authority roaring through the air. "Hezekiah!"

The sharpness in his tone made Hezekiah falter. He turned to him, disbelief etching in his eyes. "You're just going to let them take her? She's your daughter!"

Demitri didn't say a word. His silence was answer enough, causing Hezekiah to clench his hand.

Henrietta touched her brother's arm lightly, shaking her head. "It's alright," she whispered, her voice trembling in fear. "Please."

He looked at her, helpless and torn. She knew that if she didn't do anything to pacify him, it would be a bloodbath. If he wanted to wreak havoc, it would be deemed useless, as there were high-ranking knights who were as skillful as the hunters to protect the founder.

As the guards seized her by the arms, Henrietta lifted her chin. "If the purity of this Order demands my blood," she said quietly, "then perhaps it was never pure to begin with."

The elders stiffened, but Vladimir did not move. His cold gaze followed her as she was dragged away.

"Lock her in the dungeon," he said at last. "Until the purification rites are prepared."

Henrietta didn't resist at first. Her gaze stayed ahead, jaw locked, refusing to give them the satisfaction of fear. But her steps slowed as the council's murmurs grew louder.

"Tainted."

"Corrupted."

"Your daughter deserves death, Demitri."

Her chest tightened as she could feel the rage building inside her. Each whisper pierced her deeply, something she couldn't name. Her breath hitched. Her surroundings felt suffocating.

"Stop," Hezekiah barked, following them. "She's not an animal! You can't treat her like—"

"Restrain him," ordered one of the elders.

Then, two men moved to block his path, but Hezekiah pushed one aside and managed to steal their sword from their scabbard, striking the other in the chest with the hilt of the sword.

"Touch her again," he growled, "and I swear—"

"Enough, Hezekiah!" Demitri's voice reverberated throughout the hall.

But Hezekiah didn't stop. Henrietta's eyes widened as she watched her brother grab one of the guards' arms who was holding her and tried to pull her free. "Let her go!"

"Brother...!" She gasped, her chest constricting, appreciating his effort, but at the same time, concerned that doing this rebellion could make things worse. "Don't... Stay away from me before—"

She stopped mid-sentence as, in the blink of an eye, one of the high-ranking knights lunged at them, striking Hezekiah on the head. He collapsed to the ground, blood seeping from his wound.

"Hezekiah!" Henrietta screamed in horror, rushing towards him. "Brother..." Tears started to cascade down her cheeks, supporting his head.

Rage and frustration had become her boiling point. She could feel her teeth gritting in anger for what they did to him, and at the same time, her hands were trembling, seeing his blood. The metallic smell filled her nostrils as something more was steaming inside her.

Hezekiah groaned and slowly opened his eyes. "I-I'm alright, Hetta..." he muttered and was about to cup her cheek, but the guards grabbed her roughly by the arms, yanking her away from Hezekiah.

"Let me go!" Henrietta shouted, twisting violently, but their grips only tightened. She wanted to fight them; she could, but if she did, it might harm her brother.

However, the moment their hands pressed against her skin, something in her body snapped. She felt a heat surge from her spine to her chest.

Her breath became uneven and ragged. Even her pulse thundered in her ears. Her skin prickled as she was burning from within. The smell of Hezekiah's blood... It was too tangy, too strong. And it was making her heart race wildly, her vision blurring.

She tried to fight what was about to surface inside her, to stay in control, but then she heard Hezekiah groan again. When she turned, she saw one of the knights plunge a blade into his leg to keep him from rising.

That was the final straw.

Her world went red.

A snarl broke from her throat. It was deep, guttural... and extremely unrecognizable as her body convulsed. The guards stumbled back, startled, as her knees hit the marble floor. Her breath came out in gasps, her nails digging into the floor until they began to crack and lengthen into claws.

She felt her bones snapping beneath her skin. Her back arched, her eyes burning in glowing purple.

"Henrietta!" Hezekiah's voice echoed through the chaos, horrified yet helpless. He tried to stand up, panting in pain.

She could hear him. She knew his voice, but it was gradually fading as she was consumed by fury for hurting her brother. Her heartbeat drummed louder, merging with the growls rumbling through her throat.

White fur sprouted along her arms, spreading down to her fingers—no, paws. A gasp escaped from her as the transformation overtook her.

'Don't hurt him... Please don't hurt him.'

That was the last thing she thought before her vision was engulfed by something... or someone.

Then came the sound of splintering wood and terrified shouts. The guards stepped back as a massive white wolf, her eyes glowing in purple, looking wild, before it lunged forward to what it claimed were her enemies.

Hezekiah's bloodied, trembling hand reached out weakly from the floor. "Hetta..."

But the beast no longer answered to that name.