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16.66% Trinity the last White Witch / Chapter 17: Lyander

章 17: Lyander

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Lyander was standing on a large tree bark together with Colm as they waited for their prey to arrive. They finally tracked down those vile humans who kidnapped their pups and auctioned them for the nobles since werewolves' pups were still docile and easier to control than adults. They also hadn't manifested their wolf, so they lacked the strength and agility to defend themselves and run.

"Our contact in Hamill said that they should be passing in this forest before they make a transaction with the nobles in Hamill Town." A low rumble vibrated in Colm's chest, and his wolf's dilated poles peeked through his eyes. "I can't wait to tear them limb from limb."

Lyander didn't say anything. Since the Duke of Hamill was sick at the moment, the nobles took it as an opportunity to make illegal dealings behind his back.

But Lyander didn't care about the humans' business as long as they left them alone. But there were still humans who didn't learn their lesson.

What's the use of gil if you were dead? The werewolves will stop at nothing if you kidnap their own, especially their pups.

"I hope Timothy and the others are alright," muttered Colm. "We promised Terishia we'd bring her little brother back."

Colm briefly cut Lyander a look. "Speaking of which, the both of you haven't found your mate. And you're like, what now? Twenty-four?"

"Twenty." Lyander groaned. This again. It was always about him not finding his mate while the others in the pack pushed him to every single woman who was interested in him.

A werewolf usually found their mate in their teenage years, and only a few did in their twenties. While those who were twenty-four and above often ended up alone. Either their mate weren't werewolves, or their other half was already dead.

Terishia was a fierce female warrior in their pack and strikingly beautiful. But she was already twenty-four with no luck of finding her mate. The only reason why she wasn't with them was because he was against her from coming. She was too emotional, and that would lead to mistakes.

"I'm not the only one. You're the same age as me."

Colm pretended that he didn't hear Lyander and his lips puckered forward. Then his sight caught something.

"Hey . . . is that . . ." Colm pointed towards an area that was illuminated by a dim lamp. "That witch again?"

Even if Colm didn't point at Trinity's location, Lyander already smelled her scent before she even entered the forest.

"H-hey . . ." Colm tried to call in a hushed voice, but Lyander already leaped from tree to tree towards Trinity.

"Oh . . . for the love of . . ." Colm rolled his eyes in the moon before he followed his friend.

Hiding behind the bushes, Lyander peeked at Trinity. Her disguise was still on her face, but she couldn't mask her scent from him. His wolf released a low rumble of delight. She was not their mate, but he and his wolf were fond of her ever since young.

A deep scowl appeared on Lyander's forehead and his wolf's dilated eyes pushed through his. He understood that the best time to collect ingredients was when the two moons glowed their brightest, but she should really avoid going out alone in the night.

It wasn't safe.

Especially for a witch.

Despite his frustration, because he couldn't do anything but watch, a tickling sensation lighted his heart as he stared at her happy face when she gathered materials.

She was still the same. He thought. Even as a child, she loved to collect herbs and concoct all sorts of potions even though all of them ended in failure at his expense, if he might add.

He remembered having bunny ears or cattail for a day because of her mischievous spirit.

His wolf snickered, remembering those days. It was rare for him and his wolf to be this happy. His wolf was usually grumpy and on edge. Because he was strong, his compulsion to challenge the current Alpha was hard to ignore.

If Lyander was any weaker, his wolf might have already caused chaos in the pact. And because of his restrictions, his wolf was easily angered these days, and honestly, he didn't know how long he could hold him in, and the constant taunting of the current Alpha was not helping in his predicament.

But thanks to Trinity, his wolf found his calm again. There was something about her that put them both in peace, which put a smile on his face.

"Hee . . ."

Lyander ignored Colm. Colm couldn't see his lips behind his mask, but he bet that Colm knew he was smiling.

It was one of those rare occasions that he portrayed any emotion on his face, and it usually showed on his eyes.

"Now I only needed . . . a reptile skin and a leg from a six-legged salamander . . ."

Trinity mumbled to herself, but Lyander heard it loud and clear. He looked at his side and found a six-legged salamander pasted on the trunk of the tree he was at.

It raised its head to him and their eyes locked.

Lyander blinked.

The Salamander blinked.

Lyander swore he saw a trickle of sweat dropped on the side of its head. And before it bolted away from him, he snatched it with a hand and threw it next to Trinity before he hid from view.

Watching all this happen, Colm didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He was both thrilled and worried, for Lyander was finally interested in a girl. But that girl turned out to be a witch! The only thing stopping him from interfering was because he knew that the witch wasn't his mate. He could tolerate his friend's behavior as long as Lyander didn't cross a line that would get him in trouble.

Lyander already attracted too much attention in their pact because of his good looks and incredibly fast reflexes, and combat prowess. Some say that he should be the Alpha, which caused most males' eerie in their pact, especially their current Alpha.

Colm and Lyander were childhood friends. One day, the fourteen-year-old Lyander just popped in their pact. Ragged and beaten done in a shirt that hanged loosely on one side of his shoulder –– Colm instantly took a liking to him.

Lyander wasn't accepted at first, for he was an outsider, but because of the previous Alpha's protection, Ernst, he was left alone. And now that Lyander matured into a good-looking, werewolf killing machine, every female wanted him while the males, especially Reynar, the current Alpha, son of Ernst, hated his guts and couldn't wait to get rid of him.

Like now, instead of sending a group of five to hunt down the humans who kidnapped their pups, Reynar just sent Lyander to do the job. If Colm didn't insist on coming, who knew what would happen.

Probably the human traffickers would die while Lyander gets off somewhere with that witch. Colm thought, and he was glad that he came.

If Lyander started getting horny, he'd pummel some sense into him even though his wolf wasn't a match to Lyander's in speed and strength.

----

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クリエイターの想い
MiuNovels MiuNovels

I'm planning to have the FL and ML, and the primary side characters have their own 1st POV in the future. ^^

章 18: Pups

My fingers sprawled on the grass while I raised my lamp to see beyond the dark. There had got to be a reptile's skin in here somewhere.

My eyes twinkled when a transparent plastic-like thing caught my attention. It was perched beside a trunk, hidden by the long leave of grass and mushrooms. And I was even more surprised to find a carcass of a dead bird with blood moss growing in blotches of red.

"Wow . . . I didn't expect to find you two so quickly." I was glad that nature was still kind to me. It was only thirty minutes, and I've got all the ingredients I needed. It was one of the many perks of being a white witch. Nature was helping us more than any other witches.

That was why I didn't want to take the easy route by killing for a spell or ingredients. Once you step on that side, there is no redeeming you. Sprites and mythical creatures would avoid you like you're a hag, out for their hearts. And nature would deny you ingredients resulting in you killing for materials to concoct potions and spells.

These witches mainly belong to the group of black witches, or we called them hags for short.

Not madam Bertud, she was not a witch. I just like to call her that because her personality was nasty even though she was a believer of the Church who preached being good in order to be in the loving grace of the Goddess Luminaire when they die.

I didn't judge her for that, though, since most humans were like that. Only a few truly do follow the Church's teachings. Even most priests and bishops indulged in their desires.

I went to my feet and cross-checked my lists and ingredients. When everything was complete, I picked up my basket and went out of the forest into the dirt road.

Rustle . . .

My ears perked, and I skidded to stop. I heard voices near the road and hid behind a large tree trunk.

"Hurry up. We're already late."

"Wait your damn horses. Or do you want me to pee on the wagon?"

I frowned. What are humans doing traveling in the middle of the night? I thought and peeked at them.

There were at least five men, including the coach, and all of them were rippling with muscles and fat. From the looks of their ugly faces, they weren't vampires, and they lacked the godly physique of a werewolf.

Trinity hid and closed her eyes. They were definitely up to no good, else why risk traveling at night when vampires were at large? Not even traveling merchants who hired dozens of guards would dare try their luck in traversing the darkness.

Unless they're blood dealers or . . .

"Traffickers?" I assumed upon inspecting their large wagon. It could only contain vampires or werewolves since they were traversing in human soil.

They would probably going to sell them to a noble household. Though they were dangerous creatures, they were beautiful, and some had fetishes over them.

I shrugged. Not my problem.

I'd just have to wait until they were out of sight and go back home. I was going to take a short nap when one of them spoke.

"Hey! That brat is escaping again!"

My attention was piqued when a little boy with pink hair was captured and slapped to the floor. But even with his little built, he bared his teeth and growled.

"Brat! How many times must I tell you to be a good pup?"

"Be careful. We don't want too many bruises on his skin. It'll lower the price."

"Then chain him up properly! Damn rascal!"

Pup? I thought. It must be a young werewolf then. Too bad that pups his age couldn't manifest their wolves until the age of fourteen. The boy looked like ten years old.

Augh . . . my head spun for a second when a memory invaded my head.

-- "Why is your face look like ice?"

"It's my face."

"Don't you know how to smile?"

"It's my face."

"Must be a defect then. Don't worry! I will concoct potions to cure you!"

". . . it's my face." --

I held my head and gasped when it pounded hard, and my momentary blunder cost me my hidden position.

"Who are you?"

My breath hitched at my throat over the face of a bulky man zooming closer to me.

He frowned and grabbed me by the shoulder, dragging me out from the forest into the open dirt path.

"I found a rat."

The others looked at me from head to toe, and their faces sour. "An ugly rat at that."

I held back my own retort. Aren't they scared that I was a vampire or a werewolf, at least? But that was impossible based on my ugly appearance.

"Hmmm . . . what are you doing out so late, girly?" another asked with a gaze full of lust. He apparently didn't care that I was covered in warts and pimples as long as I was a woman.

I pretended to cower and lowered my face. "I was gathering herbs in the forest for breakfast later."

A man tossed his brow upward. "In the middle of the night?"

When suspicions crossed their faces, that was when I chanted a spell. Nothing complicated, just a short spell to make them dream for seconds so I could run into the village.

But before I could open my mouth, someone landed in front of me and the next thing I knew the man holding me from behind lost his head.

I blinked, and the fight was over. The towering men were now lying on the floors with their limbs torn from their bodies.

The massacre of five men was so silent and fast, and I knew just one being who could do it . . .

The man threw the head in his hand, and under the glow of the two moons, our eyes locked.

His tall physique told of lean muscles under his cloak. His face was hidden behind a mask, and only his slit irises encased in dilated silver eyes were shown . . . so beautiful and majestic . . . but also feral and deadly.

"A werewolf . . ."

----

A/N

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