The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate
Chapter 77: A Lover’s Spat

Chapter 77: A Lover’s Spat

Esme’s eyes scanned the notice that lay before her, advertising the shadowbrook Academy’s enrollment of students between the age of twelve to eighteen.

Her thoughts wandered to the peculiar circumstances surrounding the discovery of this document. Had Finnian stumbled upon it by chance, or had someone deliberately left it in plain sight?

Esme’s arms crossed, and her gaze narrowed as she posed the question to Finnian."Why do you want to attend this school?"

Finnian responded without hesitation. "Cause I don’t want that indoor lesson nonsense anymore, I want to go to a real school, meet new people, and make friends on my own." His voice was laced with a hint of enthusiasm. "Plus, the school offers a comprehensive education by day, and specialized training at night. I can learn about the curse, and other special topics like werewolf law, pack dynamics and etcetera."

Esme was stunned by the idea that he had done enough personal research. She could tell he really wanted this from the shine in his eyes, and admittedly, her brother wasn’t the type who loved sitting at home.

She knew that his homeschooling arrangement, which was dictated by Dahmer’s desire to emphasize their pack’s status in the past, had left him feeling rather isolated, unlike her who eventually got used to it. The prospect of enrolling in a school where he could forge new connections and broaden his horizon was tantalizing, but Esme was aware of the challenges that came with it.

If she agreed to let Finnian attend the academy, they would have to establish a new life in this unfamiliar place.

With a quiet sigh, Esme carefully placed the paper on a nearby table and crouched down to Finnian’s level, locking eyes with him. "Listen, Finnian, we can’t just stay here for the sake of school. If I agree to let you attend, then we’ll have to make this place our home, at least for the time being. Why don’t I try to find you an excellent school elsewhere, one that’s just as good, or even better, and we can settle down in a new place, together."

"No," Finnian’s response was unequivocal. "I’m willing to settle here if it means I can attend this school. They offer a very unique curriculum that will help me understand the curse and its implications. As you can see below, the registration deadline is just a week away, you can tell me your final decision before then."

Esme’s attempt to reason with him was cut short as Finnian darted off, vanishing around the corners of the grand maor’s opulent mansion.

Her gaze lingered on the paper as she read on to the end, and her mind processed the school’s exclusivity. This was certainly no ordinary institution, as it catered majorly to students from elite backgrounds, hinting at a complex hierarchy in this mysterious land that they were far from being a part of.

Shrugging off her concerns, she set out to find a particular individual, her eyes scanning the labyrinthine corridors of the manor. Her search was shorter than she expected, as she chanced upon him stepping out of a room, with Kangee by his side.

The raven, Kangee, let out a dramatic squawk, as if the fate of the universe rested on its wings. "You want me to brave the frozen tundra of the North? Hasn’t anyone told you it’s colder than a witch’s heart up there? Mapping the entire border will take at least a day or two, and I’ll probably turn into a feathered popsicle!"

Donovan’s ears were subjected to Kangee’s over-the-top theatrics, and his beast wolf volunteered in his mind to make a quick snack out of Kangee someday.

He replied, unfazed. "I don’t need you to map the entirety of the North, Kangee. Dig up some dirt on that woman’s family, and her father as well. I was told his name is Jason, who’s supposedly a beta to the Alpha of the North. He’s the one making these potential serums, and I want the inner workings of their pack before infiltrating it. Leave the strategy to Acheron, he’s coming with you."

Kangee’s eyes widened in horror. "That green moss guy?!"

"Kangee..."

"He’ll turn me into an icicle, I just know it!"

Donovan’s expression was a masterclass in patience as he calmly responded, "Maybe if you stop annoying everyone, you wouldn’t be scared of dying in their hands."

Esme finally walked in on them, halting their conversation, and Donovan’s senses were immediately greeted by her sweet floral scent, subtly infused with a hint of honey. His surprise soon faded when his raven let out a dramatic outburst.

"The witch is here!" the raven squawked, as if alerting the entire mansion of Esme’s presence, which of course, the residents ignored.

Esme’s eyes rolled heavenward, but before she could respond, Kangee unleashed a deafening caw directly into her ear.

"Hey!" Esme yelped, startled.

The raven’s retort was swift and saucy. "You should be grateful I didn’t peck your eyes out for locking me in that dingy cage and disposing of my master’s thoughtful gift! By the way, you look like you took a dip in a blue paint bucket!"

Esme’s glare was a perfect match for Kangee’s haughty expression. "Talk about a bird having a sassy beak." she shot back, but Kangee flapped its wings and took off in a prideful huff.

She turned to Donovan who shook his head helplessly, clearly exhausted from having to deal with Kangee’s neverending tantrums.

"Is it always like this?" she asked.

"It gets worse with time," he responded, his voice laced with dry humor. "You’ll get used to it... or develop a permanent migraine."

He brushed the thought of Kangee away. "What brings you to this side of the shadowspire? Am I deluding myself into thinking you sought me out?"

Esme’s response was delayed, as her ears were still ringing from Kangee’s ear-piercing caw. "No, I did come looking for you."

"Did you miss me? Though we saw this morning already, didn’t we?" he stroked his chin, a look of amusement dawning on his features. Esme came to stand beside him with an air of quiet confidence.

"Finnian wants to attend Shadowbrook academy," she informed him. "He’s insistent on staying here and pursuing his education at the academy, and I can’t help but suspect that this is your plotting."

"Me?" Donovan looked clueless. "Well... the choice of school is great, but I have nothing to do with that. I think Althea may have a role to play in it, cause she offered to help the board hang up some of the notice after her training today."

"Oh," Esme’s expression fell, her suspicion dissipating like mist in the morning sun. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for accusing him, yet again. "I guess I was wrong," she admitted, and a faint, knowing smirk curved his lips.

"If he wants to attend, why not let him? If he’s occupied with the academy, you’ll have more time to train with the others."

Esme’s disapproval was immediate, and her thoughts still lingered on the grueling training session from earlier. "I don’t want to," she said, a hint of exhaustion creeping into her voice. "Just thinking about what you put me through today is making my body ache again. My joints are still sore from all the exercise we did after that."

"I figured, but you put up a good fight for a first timer," he admitted. "Your body will adjust with time. I’ll even give you a free massage to make you feel better, a specialty of mine, courtesy of yours truly."

The way he made every word sound deceptively innocent always got to Esme. Her instincts told her that his words were dripping with ulterior motive, despite how genuine it sounded. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of frustration at her own susceptibility to his charms.

As Donovan turned to leave, Esme’s emotions got the better of her. Her fist clenched at her side, and before she knew it, she was grasping a discarded kitchen knife from a nearby table. With a surge of audacity, she lunged at Donovan’s neck, aiming to strike.

In the blink of an eye, the same dark mist that had enveloped them in the palace reappeared, and Esme found herself slicing through thin air. Her surprise turned to immediate shock when Donovan materialized behind her, swiftly jerking her off the floor. His arm wrapped around her thighs, and she felt herself being tossed over his shoulder, her stomach doing the flip as she squeaked in alarm.

"Tsk!" He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You keep finding ways to grab my attention, like the dark little moon that you are."

"Put me down!" Esme struggled to free herself from his grip, but it was unyielding. Her face flushed in embarrassment when Lothar and Acheron walked by, taking in their compromising position. Donovan continued to stroll along like it was nobody’s business.

One hand holding her securely, the other casually tucked in his pocket.

Acheron’s expression was a picture of confusion. "Wait, what’s going on?" he asked, and Donovan’s response was vague.

"Just a lover’s spat."

Acheron’s face scrunched in bewilderment, but Lothar tactfully intervened, guiding him away from the scene, as if saying there was nothing for him to see there.

Esme’s teeth clenched in frustration, and her cheeks burned with indignation as his words repeated in her head. "We are not lovers!" she protested, and Donovan’s taunting tone only fueled her anger.

"Really? Then what are we?" he asked, and Esme’s response was a forceful declaration.

"I promise you, I’lI get stronger, and when I do, I’ll rip your heart for sure if you continue to test me."

Donovan chuckled at her threat, the sound oddly appealing and infuriating.

"Turns me on."

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