The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate
Chapter 91: You Need Help

Chapter 91: You Need Help

Esme returned to her chamber and soaked herself in the tub for a night bath.

The water lapped at her, soothing but doing little to quell the heat that still smoldered inside her.

She had never experienced such a fire, one that refused to die down no matter how long she lingered in the bath.

And there was no wolf to blame this intensity on. If she had a wolf, she couldn’t imagine how she would have felt then.

As the night deepened, her thoughts wandered back to him, to the moment that ignited this blaze within her. The memory of his touch, his smoldering eyes, his entire presence, stirred something unfamiliar, something reckless.

Before she knew it, her hand moved with a mind of its own, exploring places she had never dared before.

For a fleeting moment, she let herself indulge in the forbidden sensation, a soft moan escaping her before abruptly pulling away, her heart racing.

"No... stop this," she whispered to herself, cheeks burning in shame. This wasn’t how she would naturally behave, but could she truly be blamed for this madness? The fire in her veins had a will of its own. Perhaps, she was at fault.

Just a little.

Esme could still feel the rough bark of the tree pressing against her back as she relived those forbidden moments in the garden. The way he had claimed her, pushing her against the tree with raw, unrestrained desire — any normal person would fulfill such acts in their bedroom but they literally did it out in the open.

What if someone had walked in on them? Or worse, Finnian?

Despite her rationality getting in the way, it was a memory that left her breathless, and her body ached for more, regardless of the intensity of it all. The truth was, she loved every second of it, and she didn’t trust herself not to repeat it.

Even after soaking herself in the bath, his scent lingered, clinging to her skin like an intoxicating fragrance, but not like she was complaining though. In fact, she found it comforting, addictive even, as if his scent had somehow become her favorite.

And oh, his kisses...

Esme’s eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting at the memory of them. She could still feel the warmth of his mouth on hers, the way his lips had claimed her with a hunger that sent shivers down her spine. Her teeth instinctively grazed her lower lip, trying to suppress the urge that came with each vivid thought.

Her eyes then flew open, startled by the direction of her thoughts. But the warmth enveloping her wasn’t just from the memories. No, it was the bathwater surrounding her.

The heat of the bathwater seemed to rise, intensifying with each passing second, and her eyes widened. The water, which felt lukewarm under her skin, became almost scalding, and a soft hiss rose as the steam thickened in the room, making it harder to breathe.

Moon goddess on a reindeer! What on earth was happening??

Despite the water bubbling around her from the sudden rise in temperature, she remained strangely unaffected. She didn’t feel the burn that should’ve followed such heat. Instead, a strange energy simmered at the tip of her fingers – not painful, but electric, alive with a fiery intensity she couldn’t comprehend.

Curiously, she lifted her hand from the water, eyes wide as a strange sensation rippled through her.

Then, without warning, a flicker of blue flame ignited at her fingertips, dancing delicately in the air as if it had a life of its own.

Her breath caught in her throat, and a shocked gasp escaped her lips. Instinctively, she plunged her hand back into the boiling water, but to her amazement, the flame vanished the moment she willed it to, extinguished as easily as it had come.

Esme’s heart thundered in her chest. Panic surged through her, and without thinking, she scrambled out of the bath, her movements frantic as if some unseen danger lurked beneath the surface, ready to strike.

The moment she got out of the tub, the bubbling ceased, and an eerie calm settled over the room. The air stilled, as if nothing unusual just occured, and only the sound of Esme’s labored breathing filled the room, her chest rising and falling as she tried to make sense of it all.

What just happened?

She immediately glanced down at her hands, expecting to see signs of flames or heat, but her fingers looked perfectly normal. Smooth, unscorched, and not a single mark of fire.

So what had she seen? Esme was bewildered.

Cautiously, she moved closer to the now-still tub. The steam that had once swirled so thickly around her was gone, leaving nothing but the tepid water behind. Esme hesitated, dipping her fingers back into the water.

It rippled softly, but nothing else. No heat, no bubbles, no fire.

"Did I imagine the whole thing?" she whispered, her pulse quickening as her mind replayed the strange events. The water was back to its usual stillness, warm to the touch, as if the entire experience had been nothing but a fleeting dream.

She forced a nervous laugh, her voice shaking slightly. "Since when did my imagination get so wild?" She shook her head, trying to dismiss the uneasy feeling that lingered. "If fire had come from me, I’d be burned alive. The water looks fine... it must have been some ridiculous fantasy."

Esme convinced herself, though her heart continued to race. With a sigh, she stepped aside, deciding she had enough of the bath for one night.

Esme wasn’t the only one kept awake by restless thoughts. In another part of the shadowspire, a certain shifter found no solace in the night. He couldn’t help but jerk himself off, driven by the memories of the garden, her body, the heat of her touch, it all seared within him.

If he had his way, he wouldn’t have stopped there, he would have taken her until the fire between them had burned out completely, but he didn’t want to frighten her, hence, he took a cold bath to try and calm his raging length.

When the icy water did little to calm his ache for her, he proceeded to do what he’s never indulged in before, jerking himself off to relieve his body of the need it sought.

When morning finally broke, he stirred from his fitful sleep. His sharp ears caught the sound of flapping wings, followed by the familiar voice of Kangee, his raven, breaking the morning silence.

"Master, are you up? There’s something important I must share with you!" the bird squawked from the window.

Donovan sighed, running a hand over his unruly hair as he sat up.

"Kangee?" Realizing his raven had returned, he got out of bed, the linen sliding from his form. He moved to the window, drawing the curtains open instinctively.

The sun’s rays pierced the room, hitting his eyes with an intensity that brought a sharp, unexpected pain. A searing brightness stung his pupils, and he winced, his breath immediately catching in his throat as he involuntarily raised his hands to shield himself.

"What the—" he groaned, staggering back from the window. The sting was unfamiliar, leaving him disoriented, and his mind raced to understand what had just happened.

"Master, are you okay?" Kangee flew into the room, concern laced in its voice as it landed. Donovan still had his hands over his eyes, his fingers trembling as they shielded him from the overwhelming burn.

"Master?"

Taking his hand away from his face, the familiar void of darkness was no longer what greeted him. His vision was a disorienting blur, as if the world around him had been painted with broad, watery strokes. Everything was hazy, a swirl of indistinct colors that made his head spin.

He stared down at his hands, watching as they withdrew from his face. They trembled, shaking as though they couldn’t believe what his mind was struggling to accept — he could see. But eventually was so disoriented, so unfocused, it hardly felt real.

A sharp, agonizing pain suddenly shot through his skull, wrenching a pained groan from his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the throbbing to stop. He remained on his knees, trying to steady himself, his breathing shallow and uneven.

When he dared to open his eyes again, nothing had changed. The world was still a blur, and the pounding in his head grew worse.

"My head... it feels like it’s about to combust," he rasped, his voice laced with frustration and pain.

"Should I call Neville?" His raven suggested, panic evident in its voice.

"No need for that, I’m already here." came Neville’s voice as he strolled into the room, his casual tone belied by the sharpness in his gaze. He crouched before Donovan, a hint of momentary shock evident in his face as he saw Donovan without his blindfold. But he quickly maintained composure.

"My blindfold," Donovan’s voice was low, a command. "Bring it to me."

Neville shook his head, his tone firm but not unkind. "No."

He sighed and looked directly at Donovan, who was avoiding making eye contact with him. "Come with me to the underground chamber, and this time, I’m going to have to examine your eyes whether you approve of it or not. You’ve worn that blindfold all your life, but you need to stop hiding behind it."

He paused briefly and continued, "Plus, I’m going to give you the vaccine as well. I get that you don’t want to talk about the bloodstain I found in your room doing the lunar event, but this isn’t just about you anymore. Take the vaccine. Not just for your sake, but for your mate’s sake, and everyone else’s. You need help, Donovan. Stop pushing it away."

Donovan’s jaw tightened, and he finally turned his head to Neville, his eyes flashing with the hint of threat.

"Are you giving your Alpha an order?"

"That Alpha," Neville responded softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "is my friend, a very silly one at that, who thinks he can continue to hurt himself and the rest of us won’t notice. As your friend, I’m telling you that you can’t keep ignoring what’s happening. Your curse... it’s getting worse, isn’t it? You need help controlling it, and I’m afraid your blood won’t be enough anymore. You gave too much of it away already, and you struck the last chord when you gave it to Finnian."