The Alpha's Blind Fate
Chapter 194: A Broken Heart

Chapter 194: A Broken Heart

ZINA

Buried under the bleeding mass of the black wolf, Zina was sure that she should be feeling pain as a result of more than one broken bones, and yet, her body seemed surprisingly fine. If anything, the only source of pain she was feeling was from her heart.

It felt like a dagger was twisting her at her heart leaving a gaping horrible wound. She stared blankly at the roof of her room while Seraph and Ablanch scrambled for her. The man that held Seraph captive had been put down by some of Marcus’ men.

"Summon the healer," she heard Marcus say probably to a servant while the man gruffly approached her. Together, they heaved the wolf out from atop her and Zina briefly wondered if the wolf was dead in the same manner her heart was dead.

It didn’t seem so if the fact that the feral thing was yet to shift back to human was anything to go by.

"It’s fatally wounded but not dead," Marcus commented distastefully while staring down at the wolf, "probably a Lycan shifter so only the Alpha King can force it to shift back. Imprison it for now until I have further orders."

"Yes, Beta DireWolf!"

Meanwhile, Ablanch and Seraph were both hesitating on helping her up as they were unsure of the extent of damage that had been done on her body. Marcus however didn’t share such hesitation. He extended his arm with a blank expression, beckoning on Zina to take it.

Zina narrowed her eyes on the arm like it was the cause of her problems, but finally she took it while he hefted her up.

The pain in her heart only intensified while her body seemed normal despite the impact.

"The healers will be here soon." Marcus said, but she said nothing in response. Seeing that she was unwilling to speak, he continued.

"The coronation is less than forty minutes away, we have to quickly get you to the capital square."

Again, Zina said nothing. Turning to Seraph who was still examining her for any evident damage, she said, "Get my backup dress, and get as many maidservants as possible to remake my hair."

Seraph nodded and reluctantly left. Zina groaned when she took a step forward, her shock was wearing off and with that, she was beginning to feel the true extent of the pain she was in.

"This would be investigated as soon as possible, meanwhile I must ask that you wait for the healers." Marcus said, obviously undeterred by her silence to him.

"Do you seriously think I’ve time to wait for the healers," Zina groaned while she walked to her mirror to examine her physical strength. The corner of her lips were slightly bruised, but besides that there was no other obvious physical bruise.

"Regardless of the time constraint, Daemon will certainly not be happy to see you in this state."

Zina faced him squarely. "Who said we are going to inform him of this little event that happened."

He raised an eyebrow, slight surprise coloring his eyes. "Little event? You almost died."

"Anyways, I do not believe it’s wise to bring this up on the morning of the long awaited coronation. I’m sure you agree with me."

"Fine, but I shall have it investigated."

Zina scoffed lightly, "as if you would find anything. Besides, it has occurred to me that you and Daemon have failed to address the Deformed that attacked on the day of his return." Zina said casually as if it was just occurring to her when in reality she had been thinking about it for a long time.

Marcus shrugged, his eyes holding an amusement that made him almost resemble Daemon, "No need addressing a small event."

Zina wanted to scowl at him, but she found she did not have the strength to muster a reaction. Only one thought resonated in her mind....

...her mother.

She had looked to be in so much pain, and Zina couldn’t help but wonder where she was at. It seemed her mother was from the Screamers Pack, but what of her father? And why was it that according to Daemon’s findings, it had been the Matriarchy that abandoned her in the forest?

They said the screamers pack were all executed thirty-five years ago, and yet Zina was beginning to think that wasn’t true in itself. She was convinced her mother was from the Screamers Pack. She wondered if she screamed again, then she would be transported to the projection again, and then maybe she would see her mother again.

Perhaps, even her gift of sight was from her family.

She was so confused, so lost, she didn’t know what to believe and what to not. But at least she knew one thing, and that was that there was more to her origins than meets the eyes. And now more than ever, she was determined to confront the Alpha of the Matriarchy Pack if ever the pack was to grace the North as Daemon had invited them to his coronation.

Even if it meant she had to be incorrigibly rude to the female Alpha, Zina didn’t care. But she was sure she wouldn’t allow the woman to leave until get some semblance of an answer that would help her locate her mother... some semblance of answer as to why her origin seemed to be doused in so much mystery and heartbreak.

Seraph entered the room, maidservants in tow and bearing a white dress that was the same as the one Zina was wearing that was already stained with the wolf’s blood. Seconds later, the healers entered too.

Zonal turned to Marcus, "I am afraid it’s improper to stay here."

The corners of his lips tugged into a smile. "Are you sure you can handle the pain? I am sure I heard four ribs crack just from your fall. Besides, you will be climbing the highest pavilion so will you be fine?"

"Right now, you delaying me when I should be getting ready makes me not to feel fine."

Amusement and something that shockingly resembled admiration shone in his eyes. "Fine, I shall get the carriage ready. Just make sure we won’t have to carry you up the pavilion."

Zina gasped at the blatant jab, but before she could retort with something equally as scathing, Marcus had already breezed out of her room.

She shook her head internally, forcing herself to focus while the maidservants went about to remake her hair. She promised herself to temporarily forget about her worries, but only if that was easier said than done.

At least she was glad of one thing. And that was the fact that contrary to all she had thought about her real parents throughout her childhood, it seemed her mother wanted her to be alive more than anything.

With that thought fuelling her, Zina made it to the Capital Square with her head held high, beholding a crowd of tens of thousand; both foreigners and natives of the Arctic North.

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