The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate
Chapter 92: Registration Closed

Chapter 92: Registration Closed

"How did you know I gave Finnian my blood?" Donovan asked, his voice steady but laced with curiosity, as Neville finished administering the vaccine.

Neville had skillfully stirred Donovan to the depths of his underground chamber, where the air was thick with the scent of herbs and ancient remedies.

Donovan now sat on a cushioned stool, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across the shelves that lined the walls. Each shelf was packed with jars of dried herbs, vials of strange liquids, and small trinkets, all of them glowing faintly in the dim room.

Neville studied Donovan’s eyes before finally stepping back, peeling off his gloves with a quiet snap. "The boy never learned to control the curse on his own, did he?" he replied, his tone both knowing and faintly reproachful. "We’ve all walked that same tortuous path, some even worse, and the boy’s sudden familiarity with you made things clear enough. It wasn’t that hard to connect the dots."

Pausing for a moment, Neville’s gaze sharpened. "You knew giving him your blood was reckless – especially after being warned not to give it out anymore. What if the curse had seized control of you then? You understood the risks, Donovan. So why do it? Why gamble with something so dangerous when you knew the consequences?"

Donovan simply sat in silence as Neville’s question went unanswered. His vision was hazy, and the world around him a blurred shadow.

"You’re not going to say anything, are you?" Neville exhaled in frustration, his patience wearing thin. "Let’s get this over with then."

Taking a step closer, Neville raised his hand to Donovan’s face, brushing his fingers against his eyelids with a strange sense of curiosity. It was the first time he’d seen Donovan’s eyes uncovered, which was absurd, since they’ve known each other for a long time already, but that was how careful Donovan had been in the past.

As he gazed into them, studying the depths of his pupils, something unsettling began to churn in his chest. It didn’t matter what shade Donovan’s eyes were, but they reminded him of a dark, bottomless void, as if there was something in them that was drawing him into an abyss, threatening to consume his soul.

Suddenly, Donovan pulled away, breaking the eerie connection. "No," he murmured, his voice firm but laced with a hint of quiet desperation. "I can’t... I won’t do this."

Before Neville could ask what he meant, Revana walked in on them.

"Forgive me for interrupting the morning bromance but Neville, you’re needed elsewhere." Revana’s voice was edged with sarcasm, and she crossed her arms. Asides Neville, she acknowledged her Alpha with a curt bow, then realized he wasn’t wearing his blindfold.

"Hey, you look ten times better without those boring blindfolds. But this is a first... what are you two doing without me?"

"We were in the middle of something important when you interrupted," Neville glanced her way with irritation. "What do you want?"

"I don’t want anything from you," she shot back, her hands on her hips. "There’s someone at the gate. She claims you told her to come, something about her son acting up. I didn’t catch the details, but she seemed really worried, so I came to inform you."

Neville rubbed his temple, sighing as the memory returned. "Right, I forgot about that. Donovan’s eyes still need checking. Didn’t Esme mention she had some skill in stuff like this? Could you bring her over to sort this out quickly so I can get back to what I was doing? Consider it a favor, Revana."

He added, hoping she would answer him, and she did.

"Esme isn’t at the Shadowspire," she explained. "She’s at Shadowbrook Academy with Finn for his registration. She won’t be available for a while, and I’m heading back to training."

"Hmm... and I won’t be back until evening, you’re going to have to wait for my return, or I can leave a note for Esme so she looks into your eyes when she comes back for you." Neville added with a faint smirk. "But you’re not dodging this."

Donovan’s shoulder sagged in resignation, Neville’s insistence already getting to him. "Fine, I’ll wait," he muttered, rising from the stool with a stiff movement, his discomfort palpable.

His eyes narrowed slightly as if straining to focus, but the sight he sought was muddled, his curse clouding his vision more than ever before. It hadn’t been this bad the first time, but right now, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of his affliction.

He stepped out of the dim underground chamber, the air cooler in contrast to the oppressive space within. As soon as he crossed the threshold, his raven, Kangee, appeared, its sleek, black wings slicing through the air as it hovered beside Donovan.

"You mentioned something important," Donovan said, his tone expectant, as he reminded Kangee of their earlier conversation. "What was it?"

Kangee let out a sharp squawk, then replied, "The borders, master — they stretch all the way from the Fjord to the eastern ridges, but the green moss guy you sent with me told me to avoid spilling till he returns."

"You mean Archer?"

"Yes, but there’s more. The North aren’t carrying only soldiers, but slaves. Beneath their fortress is a dungeon called Ashreach, and they traffic in the lives of the broken."

Kangee paused, noting its master’s reaction, "All of them are girls, children even. They’re shackled and sold in the dark corners, then they’re delivered to the Alpha of the North in exchange for gold. It’s all hidden and strictly confidential. No one outside the fortress knows."

"Did you say girls?" Donovan halted, his voice low and dangerous.

Kangee’s confirmation was resolute. "Yes, they’re used as servants for the high-born within the fortress. I saw it myself, and the one kept in charge of the exchange is Jason – the Beta you told me to watch closely."

"Is that so?" Donovan murmured, his tone a blend of icy resolve and disdain. "Where is Archer?"

"He should arrive shortly."

With a rare gesture of affection, Donovan gently stroked the raven’s sleek head, a gentle show of gratitude. "You’ve done well, Kangee. For that, you shall be rewarded."

Kangee’s beady eyes glinted with satisfaction, and it looked pleased.

While this unfolded, Esme accompanied Finnian to Shadowbrook Academy as planned. She had to skip morning training to bring him here before the registration closes, though they were still early, since the registration would close in the evening.

As they neared the towering building, Finnian’s attention was immediately stolen by the academy’s grandeur. The dark stone walls were covered in creeping ivy, while the towering spires seemed to pierce the misty sky, standing tall and silent like sentinels watching over the grounds.

The large, arched window caught the gentle glow of the morning sun, casting a soft light over the wide expanse of the front yard. As they approached the imposing set of oak doors, the intricate carvings of wolves etched into the wood seemed almost lifelike, their fierce elegance frozen in time.

"Are you ready, Finnian?" Esme asked, her voice steady but filled with a sisterly warmth. She glanced at her brother, noting the pure determination that gleamed in his striking blue eyes. Without a word, he nodded, and together, they pushed open the heavy doors.

Inside, they were greeted by the lively energy of the academy. Students miled about in the hallway — some gathered in small groups, chatting or laughing, while others hurried past, preoccupied with getting to class.

The steady hum of conversation, the clatter of footsteps, and the faint rustle of books created a vibrant atmosphere of a daily school routine.

What caught Finnian’s attention more was the uniforms. The boys were dressed in green tunics with high collars, matching trousers, and silver belts that glinted faintly in the light. Each wore a deep midnight-blue cloak draped over their shoulders, adding a regal touch to the attire, and there was a shadowbrook badge imprinted on the chest side of their tunic, where a breast-pocket should have been.

The girls mirrored their outfit, but with pleated knee-length skirts, some choosing to wear leggings beneath for comfort and practicality. The uniforms gave the school a sense of tradition and formality, yet, to Esme, each student seemed to carry a spark of individuality.

Eyes followed their every step, and when Esme stopped to ask a particular girl, who was sitting quietly at a corner, reading a book, for directions to the registrar’s office, the girl was kind enough to lead them there. However, not a single word left her lips, which Finnian found strange.

After bringing them to the registrar’s office, the girl pointed at the door.

"I see, thank you." Esme said with a smile, and the girl politely bowed her head before taking her leave.

Just as Esme reached for the door to unlock it, she found herself unexpectedly face to face with Naya, who was on her way out.

Their gazes locked, a silent tension sparking between them before Naya’s lips curled into a smug smile.

"You’re too late, mate-thief. The registration is already closed," Naya said, her voice laced with satisfaction.

"What?" Esme’s eyes widened. "How’s that even possible?!"