My Most Precious Human

What else can go wrong?



What else can go wrong?

My heart started to race as I processed what Patrick had said. "What?" I mumbled, somehow hoping

that I had misunderstood him. Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

"His head had been cut off, and his body had been thrown into the dumpster," Patrick described, his

fisted hand revealing his whitening knuckles.

"Do you think that the spy planted in my pack did it?" Draven's rage was audibly surfacing in the tone of

his voice.

"Who else?" Patrick smirked coldly at him.

"It doesn't add up…" I muttered under my breath, but certainly, I was still too loud for Patrick and

Draven not to hear me.

"What doesn't add up?" they asked in unison.

My eyes shifted between their gazes as a nervous grimace flashed across my face. "Last night I saw a

woman running out of my room. I chased after her, but I lost her in one of the corridors on the ground

floor. When I came back to my room, I saw the note..."

Patrick leaned forward in his chair, locking his eyes on me. "Did you take a closer look at her?"

I glanced at Draven, and I saw him stiffen hearing my words and then uncomfortably shifting in his

seat.

"No," I replied to Patrick, "I could only smell that she was a wolf and that she had dark hair. She looked

thin and small, but she was very fast."

Patrick nervously ran his fingers through his short hair and let out a frustrated growl. "Ivar was very

skillful and strong, so whoever killed him had to be an excellent fighter," he deduced.

Draven frowned. His lips sealed, forming a thin line. I wondered if he was suspecting anyone.

"I find it hard to believe that the woman I saw could have killed a Royal Army specialist," I said, shaking

my head.

Patrick sighed, "Too bad you have so little detail on this woman."

I smiled wryly at him, but then a strange thought flashed through my mind. Will once told me that my

body collected what it needed and could develop new skills accordingly… What if I could still use the

ability I received with Sariel's blood?

"Maybe I've seen something more…" I muttered.

"What are you trying to say?" Draven suddenly joined the conversation.

"Give me a sec," I smirked then took a deep breath.

I breathed out the air and closed my eyes, then I tried to recall everything I had seen while chasing

after the woman who had broken into my room. I gasped when my mind played the whole scene inside

my mind in slow motion, displaying every detail that had escaped my conscious mind. It wasn't like that

time when Sariel made me recall the night from the casino; it was far more intense, and I had full

control over it. I felt as if I had finally grasped Sariel's ability, which became mine.

I could see every little crack on the corridor walls where I had passed the night before. I saw the light

coming out of my room from the door crack, and I smelt a she-wolf inside. I focused my hearing… She

was panting, her breath sharp and nervous. Her heartbeat was fast and irregular. From the soft floor

crackles, I could deduce that her moves were a little off-balanced and shaky. She was in a rush. She

pushed something or closed something in my room, then slammed the door open and ran out. Was she

looking for something? She definitely didn't have to open or close anything to put a note on my pillow…

As I recalled she ran into the corridor and then toward the stairs. My brain played it frame after frame

until I registered a brief reflection in the corridor's wall mirror as she ran past it. In the minimum light

coming from the opposite window, her complexion seemed dark, as if she was tanned. She had thick,

almost black eyebrows and long lashes that placed her almond eyes in a black frame. Her fleshy lips

and strongly built jaw were also characteristic. I was certain that someone like her had never been a

part of Draven's group. The problem was, there were five other groups filled with people I hardly knew,

not to mention the entire Scarlet Valley Pack. No matter who she was, I could be certain of one thing…

"She is not JD's spy," I stated confidently.

"How can you tell?" Draven narrowed his eyes while looking at me.

"Her moves inside my room were a little clumsy. She was also very nervous, which made her look like

an amateur. Someone like her couldn't kill a Royal Army soldier," I explained.

Patrick nodded, agreeing with my assumptions, but then added, "But if she wasn't the one who put the

note in your room, what was she after? Did you notice anything missing?"

I sighed, spreading my arms in surrender, "No. Everything seemed to be in the exact place it was when

I left."

I glanced at Draven, who spent most of the time silently observing Patrick and me and listening to the

conversation. His jaw muscles flexed relentlessly as if something was making him feel uncomfortable,

but when he saw my eyes on him, he gave me a faint warm smile.

"Is everything ok?" I asked.

He grabbed my hand, exhaling, "It's just that… There was a spy in my pack, a killer at that, and I knew

nothing about it."

As I looked deep into his eyes, I saw frustration and powerlessness. I bet that with his big ego and

great ambitions, he wasn't used to feeling troubled or weak. I put my hand on top of his, trying to give

this strong man a little comfort. It wasn't his fault. JD was a strong opponent, and he had the upper

hand since he was acting from the shadows.

The most annoying fact was that no one knew who JD was, except for Elora, who would never talk on

her own. Many times, I dreamt that Dominique could place her magical hands on Elora's precious head

and squeeze the truth out of her. Unfortunately, the bitch was still the queen, protected by nobles and

many powerful vampires. They would probably allow to put her on trial only when JD showed up and

accused her himself…

"We have to keep our eyes open at all times," I said decisively. "Whoever JD is, his plans concern

Greystoneville. We need to be careful when we enter the Southern Woods territory."

"I agree with Lilith." Patrick nodded, supporting me. "According to General Gotha, the degenerates'

army moved very close to the Southern Wood Pack's borders. We don't know if they are going to join

our battle or not. If they do, I don't think they will fight on our side."

"Fuck." Draven hit the chair's armrest with his fist. "Do we know how many degenerates we are talking

about?" He squeezed out, looking at Patrick.

"General Gotha mentioned that there were thousands of them. The Royal Army keeps killing them, and

they are like Hydra: they only come in even larger numbers."

I felt my temples pulsing, a signal of an upcoming headache. If the situation wasn't complicated

enough. I was trying to get myself mentally prepared for meeting my father, whom I had hated my

entire life, but it currently turned out to be the least of my worries. I needed to hear some positive news,

something I could hold on to.

"If the degenerates are coming closer, doesn't it mean that the rest of the Royal Army will reach the

Southern Woods Pack territory along with us?" I truly wanted to hear a confirmation from Patrick.

"I don't know." He grimaced. "As far as I know, they've been taking one step forward and two steps

back for a few days now..."

I burst out into hysteric laughter, then stood up and walked to the window. Draven got up from his seat

and stepped closer to me to hug me from behind.

"Don't worry," he said calmly, leaning over my ear. "With the warriors from the old Moon Lake Pack, we

should have close to an army of eight thousand on our side. That's the force to be reckoned with."

I felt Patrick's eyes on me and Draven, frowning, but then he cleared his throat. "I actually have to

agree on this one with Alpha Draven," he claimed reluctantly. "Together, we are strong, so we are able

to crush the degenerates no matter how many there are."

I smiled, putting a serene mask on my face, but their words didn't disarm my nerves at all. Inside, I was

still shaking long after they left my room. I wondered what I could do to regain my composure when

suddenly the phone rang, and Martha's name appeared on the screen. With a hint of hope, I answered.

"You will not believe what happened!" Martha burst out instead of greeting.

My hopes disappeared in a flash. Her tone couldn't mean anything pleasant or positive.

"What happened?" I muttered, my heart racing in anticipation.

"That fucking bitch is pregnant!" she shouted over the phone.

"W-what?" My mind found it hard to put those words together.

"I told you that she gathered all the nobles... So her reason was to announce that she is expecting a

child!" she claimed furiously.

"But… is it… Sariel's?" I nearly choked asking the question.

"Well, with the show of affection for Elora that Sariel put on in front of everyone just a week ago, no one

dares to believe that the child isn't the King's." Anger kept buzzing in her voice.

"This cannot be true… Sariel doesn't love her… She is suspected of crimes," I blurted out stupidly, my

mind desperate to find a reasonable argument to cope with the situation.

"It doesn't matter." Martha heaved a sharp sigh. "If she is truly pregnant, her child will be of the purest

blood, and she, as its mother, will become untouchable."

"But they didn't even sleep together!" I snapped while a wide stream of tears wettened my cheeks.

Martha paused for a moment before asking, "Are you sure about that?"

No. I wasn't. But I thought that admitting it would kill me. My hand holding the phone dropped onto my

knees. I disconnected the call.


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