Chapter 1—Captured By The Witch
Trusting someone doesn't always apply to security and safety. Some people like to take advantage of things just to get what they want, and earning people's trust is letting their guard down.
Devan chose to trust her regardless of how many times Zainne tried to warn him away, he was too persistent, and his persistence became a nightmarish aftermath.
Twa's sparkling in the night sky, what should have been a jubilant evening for everyone, resulted in an inexplicable tragedy. The people expected that, finally, their Queen would be crowned, but only Devan knew that wasn't the case. It was a ball to announce and celebrate Zainne's freedom from the kingdom and from him...
Thunder and dark clouds ruled the sky for days, mirroring the loss and grievances of the pack. Myriad of heads bowed in shame, anger, and pain in the rain, witnessing the burial of a father and son.
To mourn was only the beginning.
There was no brighter side. The pack could not control the sad faith that had bestowed upon their king and the prince that reached their end.
The pack was left with bodies to bury, tomb stones to lay flowers on, and a nightmare that planted fear in their hearts forever.
It was truly unfortunate for the both of them. One was supposed to have his whole future ahead of him but was immediately taken... their people had high hopes.
Thunder crackled once more, accentuating their grief and a promise of vengeance...
"Wake up..." a soft female voice whispers. "Zainne, wake up..."
She gasped, awaking from her slumber. In an unfamiliar land, a small clearing surrounded by dense trees and thick bushes, there she stood up.
She hissed when feeling the ache in her body and was confused by its sudden occurrence. Stretching her limbs calmed it.
Confused again about how she got there, as she tried to walk through the forest, she bounced back. Now fully aware that her surroundings were only camouflaged.
"What the..."
She tried again—a few more times and became countless.
"NO! This cannot be!" She yelled in frustration. "Goddess! What is it now?" She blamed it on her and vented.
But the goddess she called was nowhere to be heard or seen, as if falling deaf on her.
She tried to claw her way out and later screamed profanities to herself. It didn't work either.
Her other hand clasped her palm, which was bleeding from her sharp nails, and they were almost plucked out of the force she had put on.
The stinging sensation was bearable, yet she hissed and gritted her teeth. Unexpectedly, she wasn't healing so fast that it puzzled her.
"Ooh, look who's awake. It's the supposed queen!" A witch squealed. "Brother!" She called attention to her sleeping conjoined twin.
Their eyes, big and black, quickly stared at hers creepily.
Zainne stumbled far back. She was stunned to see such big, bizarre-looking faces as if she had seen a giant.
Those sharp big nose and those pitch-black eyes staring closely were disturbing to witness, but she didn't back down—even when Zainne looked so tiny over them.
"Ooh, the pretty queen!" Another one spoke and pointed his wrinkly finger.
"Who are you?" She snarled, alarmed by their presence.
"The trapped one should not question us so fiercely. You are smaller than our palms. I'll splat you like a fly!" He tried to do so, but his sister prevented him from making a bad choice.
"I dare you, you ugly hag!" Zainne countered.
"Ooh, I want to!"
"Brother, no. Shush." His sister reproached. "I have a better idea." Her smirk irked Zainne, but she still didn't back down.