The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate
Chapter 81: Did You Wait For Me?

Chapter 81: Did You Wait For Me?

Donovan’s silence was oppressive, as his head throbbed with a relentless, dull ache. The voice that echoed in his mind wasn’t part of the curse — it didn’t carry the curse’s mocking tone, but rather, it was something else.

It was as if a specter from his long past, buried for fifteen long years, was clawing its way back from the shadows.

The irony of that was that Donovan almost welcomed the promise of oblivion. Death sounded like relief to him. He knew he had made countless mistakes as a child, but how can he be held accountable? He was just a brutalized boy, enduring unthinkable torment.

Before he was put to sleep, on the very night of his botched execution, someone intruded into his unconscious mind. He couldn’t see them, nor discern their actual identity, but their presence brought a cold, unsettling solace. In the end, his younger self struck a deal with this mysterious figure, wagering his very life.

Now, as the memory resurfaced, Donovan couldn’t shake the gnawing suspicion that the stranger might be the true bearer of the curse, and he had made a deal with this person.

But the details of the encounter were frustratingly hazy. He couldn’t recall the conversation clearly enough to make sense of what truly transpired. Yet, a surge of anger and irritation tightened in his chest.

Whoever that stranger was, they must have done something to provoke him, to leave this lingering bitterness etched into his soul.

Why couldn’t he remember the entire exchange?

"Get some rest," Irwin prompted, his voice cutting through Donovan’s haze and pulling him back to the present. "Your body is still mending, and its no surprise your kind are more wary of Lycans than regular wolves," he added, rising from the chair and brushing his hands against his robe before making his way to the door.

Donovan’s eyes narrowed instinctively as he called after him, "It was him, wasn’t it? He’s the one who brought me here. Where is he?"

Irwin halted mid-step at Donovan’s inquiry, his hand on the doorframe. "You collapsed without warning," he said, his tone steady but gentle. "Your fever was spiking – far beyond normal. Did you really expect him to leave you lying unconscious in the rain?"

Donovan remained silent at Irwin’s posing question, offering no rebuttal.

It had been quite some time since he felt this drained, and he knew it was tied to the temporary severed bond with his wolf.

Though his wolf had been quiet, he had never truly experienced its absence — at least, not like this. The sudden void must have placed an immense strain on his body, given that their wolves were a fundamental part of who they were.

As irksome as his wolf could be, he realized just how essential it was to him. The emptiness he felt gnawed at him, and it only grew his concern for Esme.

Had she always carried this hollow feeling, living without her wolf for so long?

"Where is he?" Donovan finally demanded, his voice low and commanding. Before Irwin could say anything, the door unlocked, and Leonardo stepped in.

Without a word, he walked up to Donovan and gently placed something in his hand – a familiar piece of fabric.

"I found your blindfold," Leonardo said, his tone calm, but with an undertone of care. "It’s dry now. You can put it on if you’re feeling exposed."

Donovan’s fingers closed around the cloth, recognizing the worn texture. It was indeed his blindfold.

"You went back there?" he asked, his voice edged with a hint of curiosity and caution.

Leonardo’s expression was unreadable. "Yes," he replied. "I used my speech. They’ll remain frozen till sunrise."

He folded his arms across his chest, silently observing as Donovan wrapped the blindfold back around his eyes. Leonardo’s voice, however, had a roughness to it — it sounded hoarse, as though the power of his curse had strain him. He had used his speech for the third time in a day, and he was going to need more pills later to heal his throat.

"Why did you take it off?"

"Why else?" Donovan shot back, his voice edged with bitterness. "I was in the middle of something crucial, but your foolish king, and that wretch, Dahmer, ruined my plan." The fact that he had let them backed him into such a corner grated on his nerves, a wound to his pride.

He certainly would not let it go unpunished, especially not after they had dared to tamper with his wolf like that. It would take time for his wolf to recover, as it was equally suffering from the curse’s manipulation.

The irony, however, wasn’t lost on him. They allowed an actual demon, one already bound by the curse, to slip through their fingers, all so they could tighten their useless grip on him.

"I had him," Donovan said, his voice lowering with frustration. "He was so close to spilling the truth, and they let him get away." He tried not to let his anger get the best of him. At least now he had a clue; he needed to track down three witches.

But three witches... where in all the realms was he supposed to find them?

The second clue he got were the man’s eyes, since Eugene mentioned their eyes were identical. They were the exact same shade as his own, a unique color he had been told bore an undeniable resemblance to that of his father. But that couldn’t be — his father was dead, no? The mere thought seemed absurd even. Yet, if it wasn’t his father... then who could it be?

"Twice in one night, I helped you," Leonardo remarked, a hint of satisfaction dripping from his voice as he finally caught his brother’s attention. "That means you owe me. You’re going to have to do something for me in return."

In response to that, Donovan’s eyebrows instinctively arch, a hint of suspicion in his voice as he asked, "And what exactly do you want?"

"I need to talk to you – about the curse and our father. It’s important." Leonardo said, his tone attentively growing more serious by the minute. "We need to meet again tomorrow. There is vital information I need to share with you."

Donovan sensed the weight of his brother’s words. It didn’t seem like a ploy to force another meeting, and he could tell Leonardo was being sincere.

"How can I be certain it’ll be a worthwhile investment of my time?" he asked, his skepticism palpable.

His brother’s response was steady. "It will be, I’m not one to divulge unnecessary information either. You’ll understand tomorrow." He paused, a hint of consideration in his tone.

"I anticipated you wouldn’t want to linger once you regained consciousness, so I took the liberty of drying your clothes." He moved to the armchair where he had kept Donovan’s clothes.

The silence between them was prolonged, as if Donovan was processing the situation. Finally, he broke the stillness, his question tinged with curiosity. "Whose attire am I wearing, exactly?"

Leonardo’s gaze drifted to the simple, but practical clothing his brother was wearing — a plain shirt and loose-fitting pants.

"Mine," he replied, his voice low and even.

"I had to dig into my dress drawer to find something that wouldn’t make you look like a shapeless blob," he added, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I mean who would have thought that the skinny older brother I used to know would turn into... this?" He gestured to Donovan’s rugged physique, a fleeting glint of mischief in his eyes.

His words made a vein bulge on Donovan’s forehead, and he scowled. "Who the hell are you calling skinny? You pint-sized smart aleck?!"

Leonardo raised an innocent eyebrow, "It’s a harmless fact. Want to borrow my eyes to see the difference?"

"Do you want to get punched into next week and enjoy a nice, short nap?" He retorted with a menacing growl.

Irwin simply stood at the entrance, watching the brothers’ verbal sparring match with a mixture of amusement and concern. A faint smile played on his lips when they eventually ceased their bickering, with Donovan rising from the bed. He snatched his outfit from Leonardo’s grasp.

"The bathroom is..." Leonardo began, but Donovan cut him off with a curt reply.

"I don’t need your help."

Irwin shook his head, chuckling to himself as he walked away.

—----～⁠♡～--------

Meanwhile, as the rain drummed against the windows of the shadowspire, Esme had resigned herself to her fate, her eyelids growing incredibly heavy with fatigue.

But then, a knock at the door shattered the silence, and she hastened to answer it. Her heart skipped a beat as she flung it open to reveal Donovan standing in the doorway.

The rain-soaked night sir clung to him like a damp shroud, yet, he himself seemed untouched by the elements, his presence radiating a warm, golden light that enveloped Esme like a gentle embrace.

"Where have you been?" She demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of concern and relief, her own unexpected presence equally rendering Donovan momentarily speechless.

"Do you even know what time it is?" She pressed on. "Who goes out by this time of the night and—" before she could unleash the torrent of words she had been saving for him, he suddenly swept her into his powerful arms, his chest a solid wall of muscles that seemed to envelope her entire being.

Esme’s gasp was lost in the crush of their bodies, her eyes wide with wonder as she felt herself melting into his embrace.

"Did you wait for me?" he asked, his voice low and endearing. "I never thought I’d come home to someone worrying about me. I’m glad it was you, Esme." His words sent shivers down her spine, making her heart flutter like a captive bird, trapped by the weight of his words and the warmth of his embrace.

"What are you–"

But before she could finish her question, he nestled his face into his gentle curve of her neck, his warm breath tingling her senses. He inhaled deeply, his own senses intoxicatingly overwhelmed by the familiar scent that had come to define her – a heady mixture of rose petals and moonlight that stirred his very being.

As he nuzzled deeper, his lips grazed the soft skin of her neck, causing Esme’s heart to flutter wildly in her chest. Her words were lost in a sigh as he whispered his entreaty, his voice a low, husky thing that sent tremors through her core.

"Stay with me tonight, Esme. Keep me company in my own darkness. What do you say? Yes, no, maybe... or forever?"

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