The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate-Chapter 170: Summoning The Royal Priest

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The punishment ground stretched out like a somber courtyard, its wide, open space surrounded by high stone walls that seemed to echo every sound.

The roof was non-existent, and it left the gathering exposed to the dim evening sky. Faint streaks of orange and purple painted the horizon, casting long, jagged shadows across the uneven floor. Torch lined the walls, and their flickering flames struggled to hold back the creeping darkness. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, blood and impending death, adding to the grim weight that hung over the assembled crowd.

In the center of the dismal setting, two gaolers held the blindfolded boy upright, his frail body sagging between them, while the executioner stood ready, gripping a gleaming dagger in his hand.

Before them, Lennox sat upon his ornate throne, his posture regal yet unmoving, despite the inner turmoil that conflicted with his rational thoughts. His cold, unflinching gaze remained fixed on the boy’s broken form, with no sign of any remorse. The faint rise and fall of the boy’s chest betrayed the life that stubbornly clung to him, a defiance Lennox found incomprehensible.

He was barely moving at this point, yet Lennox could never understand why he refused to die.

Memories of how he witnessed the boy murder not just his father, but his mother remained engraved in his mind. Those cursed eyes were a plague, a harbinger of ruin. If there were no longer in this world, Lennox thought grimly to himself that perhaps the kingdom would finally know peace.

"If you could see yourself, you’d wish for death to reprieve you from this situation," Lennox said, his voice laced with venom as it cut through the suffocating silence. "You murdered my father and mother, then dared to make a montague’s daughter your next victim. Did you think I wouldn’t know? You lured her into the dungeon, didn’t you?"

The boy, however, remained silent, his head bowed low, with strands of matted hair obscuring his battered face. Blood dripped steadily from his mouth, pooling on the ground beneath him. Lennox gaze shifted, his eyes sharp and calculating as motioned to the nearest gaoler. A subtle nod was all it took, and the gaoler yanked the boy’s head upright, forcing him to face the king who wasn’t done talking.

The sight was pitiful. The boy’s face was swollen and bruised from the merciless beating he endured before being dragged here. Yet, Lennox’s steely resolve never wavered, rather, he was satisfied with the condition the boy was in. To him, this was justice, and justice demands retribution.

"This is the price you pay for crossing the Blackwood family. I will avenge my parent’s death." Lennox declared, rage brimming in his voice as his eyes watered, and it betrayed the depth of his hatred for the boy in front of him. "You don’t deserve to live after what you’ve done. I will make sure you suffer until you realize the extent of your actions, but by then, it’ll be too late to do anything about it! You can bet on it, Donovan Morgrim!"

The boy, however, remained eerily quiet. But as Lennox’s words echoed in the tense silence, he let his head fall forward again, lacking any form of body strength.

"You’re all heartless," he muttered, his voice mixed with a strange blend of defiance and sorrow. "I don’t understand how you think this is fair. You want to avenge your parents, but I’m not allowed to avenge mine. My mother did nothing wrong, yet you all killed her. None of you did a thing to stop her from meeting him. So when your father killed her, I killed him. I made your mother take her life, because your father made me take the life of my mother. Still , I didn’t do it on purpose, even though I intended on it. I was controlled by something!"

"EXCUSES!" Lennox’s fury erupted as he sprang to his feet, unable to bear the thought of his father getting accused. "My father would never—" he paused, his chest heaving. "Your mother is to blame for coming here in the first place. No excuse, no lie, will save you from what’s coming."

His gaze snapped to the executioner, his voice cold as he commanded. "What are you waiting for? Gouge his eyes out!"

The executioner bowed his head at his young king in acknowledgement, his own movements deliberate as he turned to face Donovan. With a swift tug, he tore away Donovan’s blindfold, exposing his entire face to the dim, evening light. The guards flanking Donovan shoved him harshly to his knees, their grips unyielding as they restrained him.

Donovan clenched his jaw, and his entire body was taut with tension considering what was about to happen to him. To no one’s notice, the dark cursed mark etched across his skin began to spread, and a sinister energy pulsed through them. He clenched his fist as his nails lengthened, his claw piercing through his own skin. The air around him grew heavier as his cursed powers threatened to spiral out of control once more, his breathing labored.

The executioner raised his blade, its edge gleaming wickedly in the torchlight, and as he moved to plunge it toward Donovan’s left eye, a voice cut through the oppressive silence, freezing him just as he neared his mark.

"Wait!"

The words rang out, sharp and urgent, and it halted the executioner mid-strike. Donovan’s heart pounded, and his breath quickened at the unexpected intervention. He didn’t recognize the voice, but a flicker of hope — or perhaps dread ignited within him. He wondered if this intervention meant salvation, or if it would prolong his torment.

Lennox turned sharply, his expression darkening at the interruption. His golden eyes narrowed as he spotted Alpha Damon striding toward the scene, with his daughter at his side. The child’s face was a portrait of shock and horror as her wide eyes locked onto Donovan’s kneeling form.

Noticing her reaction, Lennox hesitated, and he pressed his lips into a thin line. With a sharp motion, he then signaled the executioner to lower his blade. Whatever his intention, he wasn’t about to let Esme witness something so gruesome.

Alpha Damon’s gaze shifted to the boy who was trembling, his chest rising and falling, with beads of sweat rolling down his face, and he understood why his daughter felt pity for him. Turning his attention to Lennox, he approached him.

"This isn’t the way, Lennox," he said firmly, authority dripping from his tone. Lennox’s jaw tightened at his words, and though his clenched fist betrayed his simmering anger, he refrained from speaking out. The respect he had for Esme’s father, the man who was like an uncle to him, or rather a second father, kept him in check.

"I understand you’re upset," Damon continued, his tone calm yet unyielding, "but you must control your emotions. If you value my counsel, then order the executioner to step away. Have you even considered the consequences of provoking the boy’s curse? This isn’t a single punishment, it’s a gamble with everyone’s lives. A true king doesn’t act on impulse, Lennox, he weighs the risk before making a decision. Gouging his eyes out will only escalate the situation.

Lennox’s fist tightened further, his resolve hardening as he glared at the boy. "But he dared to lure Esme," he snapped, his voice rising. "Do you understand what could have happened if your guards hadn’t found her in time? This is the best cause of action. Uncle, please... don’t mistake my respect for weakness. Respect my decision as the king. I will not let this go unanswered."

Damon’s eyes narrowed slightly, his measured gaze clashing with Lennox’s fiery determination.

"But he didn’t lure me," Esme’s voice rang out suddenly as she freed her hand from her father’s grip. Her steady gaze locked onto Lennox before she turned to Donovan. "In fact, he helped me. He’s done nothing wrong. I know he’s your prisoner, but if he didn’t commit any crimes this time, why should he be punished?"

Donovan’s breath hitched at the sound of her voice, his head jerking up in disbelief. His elongated nails suddenly began to retreat, and the cursed marks that had been spreading across his skin stilled, their sinister movement ceasing as if soothed by her presence.

Esme stepped forward as she continued, "I spoke with a council, and he told me he saw my father heading in a particular direction, and that he was looking for me. I followed that lead and ended up trapped. Someone shut the door behind me, and I don’t think it’s the boy who lured me there but someone else. I was terrified, but it was because of him," she pointed at Donovan, "that I was able to find the guards."

She faced Lennox, "If he didn’t do anything, and you have my word for it, then please let him go."

Lennox’s eyes narrowed as suspicion darkened his features, "How am I to know he didn’t manipulate you into sayings all these things? That boy isn’t what you think he is."

Esme exhaled softly before suggesting, "How about you summon the Royal priest and verify my words. If the priest finds any trace of manipulation, then do whatever you wish, but if it’s confirmed that he hasn’t tampered with my mind at all, then you must free him from this punishment, and administer aid to him."

Donovan’s chest tightened as he listened, disbelief and warmth coursing through him. Someone was daring enough to stand up for him. The notion was almost impossible to process, but then this girl...

Who was she?

The air grew thick with silence as all eyes shifted to Lennox. His gaze lingered on Esme for a long, tense moment before he finally spoke.

"Fine," he said curtly. "I’ll summon the Royal priest."

Hearing Lennox’s approval, Donovan exhaled shakily, a slight sense of relief mingling with the lingering disbelief. For the first time, the oppressing weight bearing down on him seemed to lift, if only slightly.