Blood of Immortals | Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

That night, Alpha Angus dropped the big news: the palace had ordered all wolves to search for the missing heir of Selena. Apparently, this royal VIP had to be found before the next blood moon—eleven months away, because of course, everything in werewolf land revolves around a dramatic deadline. To aid the search, Selena left behind her Blood Goblet. Sounds fancy, right? According to the palace seers, it wasn’t just a glorified wine glass. If Selena’s blood—or that of her descendants—touched the goblet, it would glow like some cosmic flashlight. Very practical for hide-and-seek, royal edition. Since Alaric’s mate was supposed to be involved (lucky him), Alpha Angus made sure the goblet found its way to our pack. Now it’s chilling in the Moon Goddess temple on the east side of the territory. Sacred artifact or not, the Alpha still rambled on for three excruciating hours about the search. By the time he dismissed us, my bed felt like the only thing worth living for. Dinner? Skipped. Sleep? Mandatory. But of course, my blissful rest was cut short. 

“Aroa!” A loud, obnoxious voice accompanied by relentless door-banging shattered my peace. Oh great, a wolf looking for war. Groaning, I rolled out of bed, ready to murder whoever dared disturb me. Swinging the door open, I found Alaric, already storming into my room like he owned it. News flash, he didn’t. But his face screamed he wasn’t in the mood for negotiating property rights. 

“What time is it?” he demanded through gritted teeth. I blinked. Seriously? 

“Uh... 8:05?” “Again!” “The short hand is at eight, the long hand at—” 

“We had an appointment at 7 AM!” Ah, right. Oops. 

“Oh... yeah. About that—” 

“Oh?” he mocked, folding his arms. “You forgot?” 

“Look, just give me 15 minutes, and I’ll—”

“Five minutes, Aroa!” he growled, his voice shaking the walls. “If your ass isn’t in my office by then, consider it gone.” 

Three minutes later, hair still wet and mind already regretting life, I sat in his office. Alaric didn’t waste time launching into a rant about the First God and Demon War. By some miracle (or curse), I’d taken the fastest shower in all the realms, but apparently, it wasn’t fast enough to escape his lecture. 

“Read these,” he said, slapping a mountain of books and scrolls onto the desk. “Memorize the history of the Five Realms and these spells. I’ll test you in three days.” 

“Sure thing,” I replied, voice dripping with fake enthusiasm. He glared. 

“Address me properly. I’m your teacher now.” 

“Yes, Sir,” I replied with a sarcastic salute. Satisfied, he stood. 

“I’m meeting my father. If you have questions, ask later.” 

“Got it, Sir.” 

“And don’t leave this room.” 

“Sure thing, Sir.” His pointed glare lingered before he finally walked out. Once he was gone, I sighed so loudly I could’ve summoned a tornado. 

The next few hours were pure torture. I read about blood spells that involved cutting veins and offering blood to Hades. Dramatic much? The warnings about "equal exchange" didn’t help either. Did that mean sacrificing your life? Or maybe your sanity? I considered asking Alaric but decided against it—mostly because I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being useful. 

When Alaric returned with lunch (gasp food, from the devil himself), I was too hungry to be suspicious. “You’re my student,” he said, casually handing me a plate. “I have to take care of you.” 

I raised an eyebrow but took the food anyway. “Regardless, thanks.” He blinked, then turned red. Red! The oh-so-intimidating future Alpha chugged a glass of water and started coughing like he’d inhaled wolfsbane. 

“Wow, you okay there, Sir?” I asked, trying not to laugh. 

“Fine,” he croaked before bolting out the door. “Be ready in half an hour for training.” 

“Sure thing,” I muttered to his retreating back. “Sir.”

Physical training was hell. Alaric made me run laps, do sit-ups, and push-ups until I wanted to collapse and never get up again. 

“I hope you’re enjoying this, Alaric Belmont,” I muttered under my breath while running. “Because if you weren’t an Alpha, I’d have already pranked you into oblivion. Ants in your bed? Done. Chilies in your food? Double done.” Behind me, a laugh broke through my murderous thoughts. 

“Is that a threat?” Alaric’s voice drawled. I glared but kept running. “Scary,” he teased, trailing after me. 

“Ugh!” The rest of the afternoon passed with him alternating between torturing and mocking me. By the end of the day, I was exhausted but determined to survive. If only to outlast this smug jerk.

---

Later that day, as I trudged back to my room after another grueling training session, I caught sight of a familiar figure heading toward me.

“Ruse!” I called out, immediately brightening. Without thinking, I rushed to her and wrapped my arms around her.

She hesitated for a moment before hugging me back, but something felt... off.

“Yeah, I heard you’ve been busy,” she said, pulling away. Her usual warm smile seemed strained, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

“Busy? Try tortured!” I joked. “That guy definitely wants to kill me. If he had his way, I’d be rogue food by now. Good thing I’m smart.” I winked at her, hoping to lighten the mood.

She let out a soft laugh, but it lacked her usual spark. “You should take this seriously, Aroa. Not everyone gets a chance like this. You’re lucky Alaric is your teacher.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re only saying that because you’re not in my shoes. If you were, you’d understand the hell I’m in!”

“How I wish...” she murmured under her breath.

“What?” I asked, leaning in closer.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly, brushing it off.

Before I could press her further, Alaric appeared behind me, his presence unmistakable.

“There you are,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “I was looking for you last night. Where were you?”

“I, uh—” I started, scrambling for an excuse.

“Alaric,” Ruse interrupted, her tone suddenly soft and pleading. “Please don’t be too hard on her. She’s just playful. A bit immature, maybe, but she means no harm.”

Alaric frowned, clearly caught off guard by her sudden defense. “I wasn’t going to—”

“Hahaha!” I burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer.

Both of them turned to look at me, confused. “I’m sorry!” I managed between laughs. “I just couldn’t help it. Ruse, he’s not mad at me. He was just teasing!”

Ruse blinked, clearly taken aback. “Teasing?”

“Yeah,” I said, wiping a tear from my eye. “I guess you’re not used to seeing this side of him, huh?”

Alaric looked away awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, this little Omega brings it out of me,” he muttered, draping an arm over my shoulder.

To my absolute horror, he leaned down and—right there in front of Ruse—took a long whiff of my hair.

“Alaric!” I shrieked, shoving him away.

Ruse’s smile faltered, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something dark in her eyes.

“I have to go,” she said abruptly, her voice tight.

“Wait—” I started, but she was already walking away.

—

Days turned into a grueling routine: studying spells in the morning, training in the afternoon, and collapsing into bed at night. But despite his arrogance, Alaric surprised me. He paid attention—like, actual attention—to my mood, whether I was angry, sad, or plotting revenge. Sure, he was annoying and bossy, but he wasn’t all bad. To thank him (and because I clearly had a momentary lapse in judgment), I decided to bake cookies. Big mistake. I was so distracted by my thoughts that I didn’t notice the cookies burning. Worse, I opened the oven bare-handed.

"You’re an idiot,” Alaric snapped, grabbing my hand and dragging me to the sink. “What were you thinking?” 

"I wasn’t,” I admitted, wincing as cold water hit my burn. 

"Obviously.” He turned off the faucet, but instead of letting go, he brought my hand to his lips, his eyes locking on mine. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly before leaning in and kissing me.

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