The undying witch- A Mother

4- {Live As Dead}

The moon shun behind the clouds, a timid hiding soon to be discovered.

The tires are silent for the dear night and his eyes carefully observe the woman in the wheelchair, rolling aimlessly through the hospital hallways with a wandering mind.

Their first encounter hasn't been the most stimulating in terms of dialogue. He had introduced himself and his role to be emotional support for the succubus from now on.

One thing they had in common was that they certainly did not want to converse.

On Arson's part, despite how he handled the conference with the twins ( by being a tongue-tied doll) he was sure that they will come back on their wolf's paws and expect lovesickness or even worse, submission from him.

The thought didn't sit right with him. He came here to spend more time with his beloved mother and do his job, not to entertain wolves speaking to the moon.

His first contact with the locals was a set-to worth remembering as a warning. A pre-made idea of how they treated the succubus before him.

Then again, if a war between royal blood carriers arises, he will have to see the kings nonetheless.

Things have gone way more complicated than anticipated.

On the succubus part, she wasn't in the calmest of states. Arson could unmistakably see that.

It was clear that she felt caged in this facility. She was painfully aware that the constant visit and examinations on her were a donation from her mating bond with one of theirs.

If she had been another with no connection to them, they would have left her to die without another thought.

" Am I too agitated for you, child? " For the first time, the succubus moved her lips, a wise voice and tone of experience rollick out of her teeth.

He crawls out of the dark, his tail curling up and tingling. " So you can talk? "

She halts, side faced to the moon, she wore a dull complexion and pulls her shawl to warm her shoulders. " You haven't been the most talkative either. I don't blame you, though. "

His tail whipped the floor, " News travels fast here, I see. "

She smiled, " The wolfs adore connecting in every way possible, sociable creatures they are. "

She raised a hand to Arson, inviting him to hold it. He hesitated, " Help me roll around my enclosure, child. " He took it.

When he held her hand, he felt her veins shifting in his grasp, the bones shaking and the blood not
too liquid to give color to the flesh.

Palpitations and impatience. She has not fed for a while, he acknowledged.

" My name is Maracissa Encaden, house of twelve generations. " He blinked.

" You have children? " The tires continue to roll silently in the night, wandering past the closed doors of the pretending sleeping patients.

She breathes out gently, a comforting motion to herself. " They were not mine but I considered them my flesh and blood. They might be adults right now, however for me, they will always be my children. "