CAIN

EIGHT

"Mor, you look flustered," Alice reached my arm, pulling me gently to face her in the royal bathroom I was currently hiding in. I had been staring at my reflection blankly for some time, fixing my makeup as if it could conceal the true nature of my wicked heart.

The smile I gave her did not quite meet my eyes. Of course it didn't - I was sick with guilt - and seeing her ever-so delicate face fill with worry for me was not helping. 

"You were with His Majesty, were you not?" she asked, and I nodded. There was a deep blush forming on her cheeks at the mention of Cain, "Did something happen?"

"Alcohol happened," I muttered before wondering if the true cause of my friend's flushed cheeks was the same reason I was having trouble walking straight. She stood patiently, waiting for me to answer but I found the words stuck in my throat.

"Alice, I have something to tell you."

She tilted her head slightly, "Morgana?"

I looked away, leaning against the sink and sighing, "I am so sorry, Alice-"

We were interrupted by an uproar of cries and shouting coming from outside. We both made our way to the door, giving each other looks of confusion whilst we peered our heads out to see guards rushing to the garden - the same place where I had left my mate only a few moments prior.

"Stay here," I warned her, but she shook her head defiantly. Her face was filled with the resolution of an alpha. She resembled something of her father in this light, "I am coming with you."

I took off my high heels, carrying them in one hand and taking Alice's hand in the other. We rushed across the ballroom as crowds of people huddled with worried faces around us. The dancing and celebration had been replaced with a stifling sense of tension. Alice called to Alpha Denver standing with other officials looking solemn. He immediately took his daughter in his arms.

"There's been another assassination attempt." His voice was grave, and his eyes found mine across the room as I stood motionless for a second. I wondered if he was accusing me, but he quickly turned his attention back to his daughter before I could gather any more information.

"You must stay with the other pack members," he told her, shaking his head when Alice pleaded to let her help, "It's too dangerous for you to be walking around freely."

"I gather it was unsuccessful," I find myself saying, walking over to the rest of the pack.

"Yes, but His Majesty...he has had a forced shift. His wolf has mad him unreachable, and well, dangerous."

We watched as guards returned from the garden, stripping from their own wolf form with fresh blood on their skin. I wasn't sure if it was theirs, or perhaps the king's.

Alice let out a small gasp, "You are saying he has gone lupe?"

When a wolf went lupe, their most primal side took over, forcing them to yield any form of their personhood or humanity. This, I had seen with Alice, was a common phenomena for lycans on days of full moons or rituals, but outside of these natural cycles, becoming lupe was potentially permanent. Or even fatal, if not to him, to anyone he deemed as necessary prey.

"Has anyone tried, I don't know, tranquillising him?"

My question was met with looks of disbelief from all angles of the werewolves surrounding me, including Alice. I rationalised that they might have certain apprehensions to shooting their king down like a common wild animal.

Mr Denver's beta turned to me. I recognised him by the scars on his necks, and his fiery red hair. "Do you know what kind of drug dosage would be required to take down a being of his size?" he asked.

I look at him, ignoring the fact that the question was most likely rhetorical. "A little bit of wolfsbane, maybe?"

He snarled, but I didn't flinch. "Do you have any better suggestions, Carlisle?" I turned to face the rest of the officials, "Any of you?"

The silent caused a strange sense of anger within me, "How did this even happen in the first place?"

The alpha kept his eyes on the commotion outside, "We don't know. We think he's been put under a spell."

Carlisle suddenly turned to look at me with an unexpected sense of inspiration, "Why don't you force him to change back?"

"Well that seems like a marvellous plan," I exclaimed sarcastically, "Any idea on how I'm supposed to do that?"

"If it's magic, surely you can just reverse it?"

I sent a look of desperation to Alice and then to even to her father, but they seemed unwilling to cast off this suicide mission as a preposterous notion. Any soft spot Cain harboured for me was not going to overcome his innate predatory urges, and I did not have confidence that my spells would work on him under these certain circumstances. In his primal form, he was almost impervious to magic.

So all us magicians are the same then? I thought, but didn't dare to voice my feelings out loud at risk of sounding hysterical, which I very surely was becoming. 

"I don't even have my staff," I finally said, taking a deep breath, "And I'll need some thyme, lavender and dirt. If I can close enough for his overgrown majesty to take a whiff of some soporaltum, we might be able to sedate him until we figure out the cause of his shift."

The alpha spoke first, "You heard the witch. Find her what she needs. She might be the best chance we have at containing the king right now."

The pack dispersed, Alpha Denver being called away by leaders of the council. I briefly wondered where Damarian was or any other magic wielder for that matter, but I was brought back to the reality of the situation with Alice gently clutching my arm. 

"Are you sure this is going to work?" she asked. 

I smiled, "Of course. What could possibly go wrong?"