For the Hate of God

Where could she go?

Malleteagan’s POV

Where could that little vixen go? For f**k sake, I have mobilised the best trackers, and still, no f*****g sign of her. I thought she was in Oribus on that f*****g night when I lost so many in the battle against Sentaya. Some of them were my best soldiers. My revenge will be merciless. The eyeless, botched old hag will remember me. I will be the last thing she will remember in her miserable existence.

“Omar, any updates on the girl?” I asked Omar, who came from Nerzelis, to report on updates.

“No, Alpha,” he answered.

“f**k that s**t!” I slammed my fist, and f*****g table broke in two. f**k, this dodgy hotel in the middle of nowhere will add another item to the broken inventory charge.

“Omar, make a contact to schedule a joint meeting with Kandreah, Thersar and Nexelex to see the progress of our plan urgently. Each of us to come alone. Only our first in command can accompany us, apart from the four of us. I suggest we meet in Amaralva’s castle in a week. Nexelex and Thersar to bring the samples of equipment they made. Do not discuss the details of a meeting with anyone but only with Kandreah, Nexelex and Thersar.” I said.

“Yes, Alpha,” he said.

Aralyn’s POV

Trigger warning: imagery of torture and child abuse.

I tossed and turned in a cold sweat on my bed while the night of my mother's bestial murder went over and over in a flurry of vivid images. Like every night since I escaped Wengarthria, I was having nightmares. The deep and now so well-known voice of Marcellus Riggs had repeated the words of that curse in my head. What does that even mean?

The sky above Mother and I looked dark and ominous. Malleteagan stared at us with his faded dark grey eyes that glinted malevolently and sinisterly. Each time Malleteagan kills her, she morphs and transpires in another new scene. The new scene would be in the same place where I was held captive by Marcellus. Now, my mother's face would change to the face of an unknown woman of ethereal beauty; her facial features would slightly remind me of someone, but I couldn’t put my finger on who. Her body was mangled and scarred beyond recognition. The look in her eyes showed that she was in severe pain and mortified by people in her surroundings. She was shackled with cuffs on her hands, feet and neck, hogtied and forced to a kneeling position. The face of the woman who was instructing how to torture the poor woman in shackles faintly and remotely reminded me of me. The torturer woman had the same eyes as mine. But that woman looked malicious, twisted and demented as she was cackling maniacally while her servants were whiplashing the poor woman in shackles.

She would call a healer to heal her and continue the ordeal each time she would faint. Over and over again for what seemed like hours. Or days, I can’t tell. I lost track of time. I saw the boy being brought to this gruesome scene through my mother's eyes. Boy was shackled and gauged, his screams muffled. He wet his pants. Terror in his eyes was inexplicable. His face was wet from tears.

He struggled with no success to get free from the soldiers who were holding him. Two soldiers who were holding him would then toss him to the ground just to stomp over him as they were advancing towards the shackled woman with the remainder of the army. He was stomped and stampeded over repeatedly by soldiers.

The woman who commanded the torture remotely reminded me of me. Among all of her facial features, her eyes had the most striking resemblance to mine. Gosh, is this Noosha? As commanded, soldiers were beating the poor woman. She screamed and begged for the boy to be moved from the scene and his life spared.

“Ok, Minthe…” said the woman. “….I am giving you an option. I will spare your boy, and he will live under my wing if you cut your throat in front of me.” Minthe nodded in tears, and the screaming and thrashing boy had been removed from the dungeon. The scene would then stop to go back to scenes where my mother would be back in her own body and would be chased by Malleteagan on that damn day when he killed her.

And like that….my dreams would switch between these two scenes whenever I would go to sleep. Every night.

Every time, I would wake up in sweat and tears. Tonight, it was no different.

I looked at Merlius and Nethanaiah. They were sleeping so peacefully, entwined like blue ivy branches. I wished I could have that kind of love. Someone to hug me and hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay. Someone who will give me love and a feeling of safety. Someone who will say to me that this was just a bad dream. Someone…anyone…who will show me a figment of warmth and affection. I did not want to wake them up, so I went for a run in my Lycan form. I have done this many times since being here and since Nethanaiah showed me how to do a cloaking spell.

It helps me to clear my head whenever I have a nightmare.

The past three months in Nerzelis were unexpectedly good for my body and soul despite the nightmares. I became more connected to my Lycan. I started to recuperate from years of torture, particularly the latest torture perpetrated by Marcellus and his beasts.

The cold morning breeze had caressed my fur, and I inhaled the beauty of quiet Nerzelis forest in the dawn whilst I was on the run. Suddenly, I had a strange feeling of someone’s presence. It felt as if I was being watched. I slowed down and started walking cautiously, shifting back to my human form. Thank God for my ability to whip some clothes with a quick spell, and thank Nethanaiah for teaching me and helping me to tap into my magic. But then it came to me. I was so distracted and distraught by the nightmare that I forgot to muster a cloaking spell when I went for a run. What a fatal and rookie mistake.

In a split second, I felt a cold breeze behind my neck, and in the next moment, a hand was covering my mouth-preventing me from screaming. I mean, I wouldn’t scream anyway, although a shudder of shock and surprise went down my spine. Despite the shock, I knew that making any sound would make things even worse. Firstly, all that would do would be to alarm all the Lycans in Nerzelis of my presence, especially as I forgot to cast the cloaking spell. And secondly, it is a waste of time and energy. I need the energy to defend myself and not to waste it on screaming. Whoever the obnoxious motherfucker is, he will learn that I am not the same weakling I was a few months ago. I hope it’s Malleteagan or Marcellus so I can vent off the emotions brewing within me after this gut-wrenching nightmare.

“Looky, looky, who we have in here, a lovely Moon mutt princess,” he gritted through his teeth. “Boss will be thrilled to see you again. Hopefully so happy to allow me to break every f*****g bone in your body so that you become as crippled as my brother is now because of you,” he said, sending shivers down my spine. What’s his problem? What is he talking about? What brother? I am sure this is Norgarth, Marcellus’ first in command. But, I certainly haven’t ever met his brother, nor have I known that he has one, not to mention crippling his brother. I could sense that he was mind-linking, and this was my chance. I punched him in the ribs with the elbow with all my might and then in his Adam’s apple, hoping to crack it. He immediately loosened the grip but recovered in a moment. However, that moment was enough for me to get an advantage.