The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate-Chapter 217: Vision Of The Ritual

"That’s a solid plan," Simon agreed. "But visiting days are only allowed on the weekends. We’ll have to wait until then."

Luca let out a soft breath, his gaze drifting toward the floor. "I need to go home anyway– my father’s been pestering me to visit. The old man won’t leave me alone about it. Maybe I’ll stop by there first, and after that, I’ll head to the shadowspire to catch up with you guys."

Finnian folded his arms across his chest. "Fair enough. We only just got here yesterday, and I’ve already received two letters from my sister this morning. She mentioned she’s visiting the royal palace today, and might stop by in the Damned when she’s done. Hopefully, everything goes smoothly for her over there."

Luca shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to Simon who was now quiet. "Bookworm, what about you? Got any families to catch up with?"

The question had already slipped past his lips before he noticed the sharp glance Finnian shot at him, but he couldn’t quite register why Finnian was giving him such a look until he caught the flicker of something unreadable in Simon’s face. The dullness settling in his eyes, and the stiffness of his posture.

Oh.

Luca cursed himself internally. He had completely forgotten about Simon’s strained relationship with his family. In an instant, he scrambled for a way to smooth over his thoughtless question. "I— I was just asking in case you’d want to come over to my place this weekend?" The words he said tumbled out before he could stop himself.

For a moment, Simon blinked at him. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the light in his eyes returned. The edges of his lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile but close enough.

"Wait, you mean it?" He asked expectantly, his voice laced with excitement. Luca simply cleared his throat, whilst turning his head away as if to downplay the moment.

"Only if you want to," he muttered, instinctively tugging at his collar. "Don’t make a big deal out of it." He stole a quick glance at Simon, who nodded enthusiastically.

Finnian couldn’t help but smile at the interaction, pleased to see them finally warming up to each other. Then, to his surprise, Luca added, almost offhandedly. "You can come too, weird hair. We’ll stay at my place for the night and visit the shadowspire in the morning. By the way, my home isn’t as big as yours, so don’t blame me if you two feel cramped."

Finnian raised an eyebrow, amused. "Cramped? How could we possibly feel cramped? You’re inviting us over. We’re actually looking forward to it– back me up here Simon."

"Absolutely!" Simon grinned. "You know what this moment actually calls for? A big group hug—"

"Yeah, I’m out," Luca announced, already turning on his heels to walk away. He refused to partake in whatever overly sentimental nonsense his friends were planning. But the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his true feelings.

-_-_-⁠♡-_-_-

The journey to the palace had been an exhausting one for Esmeray. Several paths were blocked due to sightings of demon wolves, forcing them to take an alternate route. The detour stretched their travels, turning an already long ride into an even more grueling ordeal.

By the time the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting golden hues over the landscape, Esme and her group decided to stop for the night at a modest roadside inn. Once she was checked into her room, she wasted no time slipping into a warm bath to soothe her aching muscles, before putting on a comfortable outfit.

Her dinner was brought to her, and she ate quietly, whilst listening to pitter-patter sound of the rain outside. She couldn’t help but wonder if Finnian and his friends were doing well in the academy, if Althea was taking her medicines and if Donovan wasn’t overly stressed in the North by himself.

She missed them all, but knew she had to focus on what was ahead. Now, she was sitting cross-legged on her bed, staring at the two books laid before her.

One was from her Aunt, the other from Cora– who handed it to her in hopes that she would uncover the truth about the infamous fire incident.

After reading through the pages of the book Cora gave her, she found only a brief account of how her father had summoned his wolf through fire. There was no detailed explanation, no true answers like she had hoped for. Only fragmented knowledge that raised more questions than answers.

It was clear Alpha Thadius saw this coming. Lady Arabella had insisted it was a failed ritual, but the book Cora gave her made no such claim. From what she saw, this book had been made while her father was still alive, so it was no wonder so many revered her father as if he were divine. And yet, for all their admiration, he never sought power or worship.

He had only wished for a simple life with his family, but fate can be so cruel.

At least now, he could finally rest.

Picking up the book her Aunt had given her, Esme made sure to confirm the doors and windows were locked before she opened it.

When she flipped it open to the first page, a sudden wave of heat suddenly rushed over her, prickling her skin with an unnatural warmth.

The words on the parchment twisted and flickered, their dark ink shifting into an eerie shade of blue. Then, as if the book itself were alive, the ink bled and reshaped, forming a vivid imagery that rippled across the page. Before she could so much as gasp, her surroundings lurched, dissolving into a reality that wasn’t entirely hers. freēnovelkiss.com

When she blinked, she found herself standing in the heart of the memory.

In the sacred clearing before her, the scent of charred wood and the sharp tang of blood, thickened the air like an unforeseen fog. Night draped over the land like a heavy cloak, but the ground was bathed in an eerie glow from the massive pyre at the center. Around the pyre, figures in dark robes stood in a circle, chanting a language that sent a tremor through her very bones.

Instinctively, Esme looked down at her hands, half-expecting them to belong to another. But they were hers. She wasn’t truly here– she knew that much– yet everything felt so devastatingly real.

The stone pillars surrounding the clearing were etched with pure runes, none she had seen before. But their inscription pulsed in perfect rhythm with the ritual’s cadence.

At the heart of it all knelt her father.

He looked no different from what she remembered, but more weary. His face was slick with sweat beneath the flickering glow of the fire, and her heart clenched at the sight of him. Heaven knows she would give up anything to be able to run into his arms again and just stay there while he comforted her, just like he always did when she was still a child.

But this was just a piece of memory. Her father was dead.

Her eyes, which were filled with longing, suddenly darkened as she observed the state he was in. She hated seeing him like this– exhausted, burdened, forced to endure this wretched display because an entire realm demanded it of him. Everyone else called it a blessing, but Esme knew better. There was nothing sacred in a duty that devoured someone piece by piece, and after everything her father had to put up with, she wondered how he never snapped at all.

Not even once.

Her father’s breath came in ragged gasps, and his hands trembled as he tightened his grip around what appeared to be a ceremonial dagger.

Without hesitation, he dragged the blade across his wrist, his blood spilling freely from the wound.

The cloaked figures pulled back their hoods, and the majority of them were from her bloodline. The Montagues. Blue hair, blue eyes, and on the sidelines was Lennox’s father, along with Alpha Thadius and a few people she had no idea who they were.

"He must be the chosen one," Lennox’s father uttered with certainty, his eyes sharp and focused. "The prophecy cannot be wrong."

Esme’s eyes blazed with fury at the sight of Lennox’s father. Her fingers curled into fist at her side, and apparently, he seems to be the one responsible for the downfall of so many people, including his own family.

Turning her attention to her father, Esme watched as he smeared his blood onto the dagger’s hilt, a solemn offering that was sadly common. Then, with a swift, decisive motion, he raised the blade high above his head and drove it into the earth.

The ground trembled in response, and flames immediately roared to life, surging skyward in a blinding eruption. A wave of searing heat burst outward, forcing Esme to avert her gaze. For a fleeting moment, the night ceased to exist, as it was swallowed by an unforgiving light.

As the light receded, the hope in everyone’s eyes soon turned into shock as the fire switched into blue flames, and it twisted violently, its form warping until it took the unmistakable shape of a wolf’s head. The wolf snarled and thrashed in unbridled fury, its guttural growl reverberating through the ritual grounds.

It’s intimidating presence sent everyone else stumbling backwards, their voices breaking into cries of fear.

The protective runes meant to keep the ritual site safe immediately splintered from the wolf’s rage, unable to contain the force now unleashed. The night’s air hummed with something ancient, and Esme could hear the king calling out to her father, who had passed out on the ritual site from exhaustion.

"Father!" Even though it was simply a piece of memory, Esme couldn’t resist lunging herself forward. She immediately shielded his form with her body, as if it would do anything to protect him, but the fire itself seemed to have no intention of harming him either. Rather, it was focused on something– or someone else.

It was then that Esme’s gaze fell upon a baby, swaddled in deep blue cloth, lying at the very edge of the ritual space.

The ethereal blue fire, shaped like a giant wolf’s head, suddenly surged toward the infant. Yet, rather than consuming her, the flames extinguished in an instant, vanishing into thin air as if they had never existed and ruined the ritual. Amid the surrounding chaos, no one seemed to notice the strange occurrence.

Esme’s breath hitched as she stepped toward the place where the baby had been laid. Her gaze sharpened, locking onto the shimmering azure lights encircling the child. It twinkled like fragments of a distant star before they faded into nothingness.

"Is this... me?" Esme whispered, the words barely escaping her lips. A creeping realization soon settled over her, coiling in her chest like a truth waiting to be spoken for once.

"Did that wolf choose me?" she murmured, her voice laced with uncertainty. "This incident happened when I was a newborn which means— was that why I was sick all these years? Because I had a powerful wolf that had been released dormant inside me since I was only a newborn?"

Before she could delve deeper into the revelation, a sudden, primal warning jolted through her. Her pupils dilated, her instincts snapping to attention as she sensed someone was behind her.

Acting on pure reflex, she slammed the book shut– only to find herself yanked back into the present. The familiar walls of the inn’s chamber came into focus, and she barely had a moment to react before she tumbled off the bed, rolling just in time to evade the glinting claws aimed at her back. Since she had dodged it on time, the claws met the bed, and a cold dread settled over Esme as she stared at it.

A low, guttural growl filled the air.

A demon wolf stood in her chamber.