The Demon Lycan's Fairy Mate

Zaraith's POV

The wind was stiff, almost suffocating.

And that was the first sign that boldly screamed my presence wasn't wanted by this land.

As I walked, branches dangled above my head like broken limbs, its leaves blackened and curled inward as though infected by something poisonous, something wrong….and ancient. My boots crunched into the soft, warm soil filled with broken twigs and dried leaves. And even when I exhaled softly, the air returned damp and cold, sinking deep into my bones.

I looked around, a slight smirk tugging on my lips, almost immediately, the illusion spells around me frayed again, tugging at my veins like loose threads. When I passed the enemy lines and crossed the border patrols, it was strong, but in here? At the whispered Ravager's woods, I could feel it suffering and straining. It felt as though the magic here was polluted, tasting like iron and ash….not the kind I had grown up to, I could easily tell the difference.

I clenched my fists tightly to my side and continued walking, my steps slow and calculated, the silk of my cloak dragging behind me as I walked.

And when I looked up, I noticed even the moon was too scared to rise, and that was actually amusing.

Just then, I heard a voice ring out, obvious and annoyed. “You're late….again!”

I raised a slight brow and spoke up without flinching. “Tsk….” I clicked my tongue. “You aren't even real, let's start with that”

Almost immediately the words left my lips, something suddenly flew out of a tree, snapping its head sideways on a branch.

I scoffed, I wasn't ready to give whatever was watching me the satisfaction of seeing me break or cower in fear.

Instead, I continued walking even deeper into the forest, my fingers slowly caressing the hilt of the blade tucked properly into my hip strap. The blade wasn't meant to be drawn unnecessarily, only if it was important.

And the mission I was given was simple…..break into the Ravager's land when the sun goes to sleep, track down the target, confirm he's really there and finally….try not to get killed.

But…only one of those was the truth.

I knew I wasn't here to just confirm the target’s location nor was I here to scout or flirt my way past his guards with just a smile on my face and a glass of poison.

I was here to kill him….the almighty Razek Vorin.

The infamous demon-lycan warlord, the beast whispered in the shadows that singlehandedly destroyed empires with no weapon but just a grin on his lips and his bare hands. The infamous warlord no one had dared get close enough to bleed and make it out alive.

But there was more to it than just a job. Razek wasn’t just a warlord, he was a disaster. He was the only one alive who broke the Blood Accord, killed three royal families in one night, and brought down a whole vampire court without losing any of his own blood.

He got demons and Lycans to join under him, and every month, his armies got bigger. The Seer said that if Razek came into the Fae land, he'd burn it down and make our magic work for him. The council said he'd end the supernatural order if he lived. So they sent me, the last Liraen heir, the only one whose magic could get past the Ravager’s guards and get close enough to kill him.

But that wasn’t all true either.

And yet….here I was, hand-picked, not because I was the most trusted person to do this job, no. But because they wanted me to fail in my mission and die here.

My sisters had been waiting for this chance since we were kids. I was the youngest, the one they didn't want, born when my mother was dying. My magic was wilder than theirs, stronger, and they hated me for it.

They called me storm-born, cursed, a reminder that our mother died having me. If Razek killed me, they wouldn't cry. They'd be happy. My death would end the Liraen storms line and give them the power they always wanted.

Before I left, I had heard one of my sisters hiss under her breath. “Sister, You should just let your spell go. You know he's gonna peel it off you anyway, that might keep your dignity intact”

Dignity? I remembered scoffing. The only thing I planned on keeping intact was my blade as it pierced through his fucking throat.

Just then, the path I had been walking through suddenly vanished beneath my feet, engulfed entirely by shadows and twisted roots that literally moved and twitched whenever I blinked.

The hairs on my skin rose, my fae senses kicking in, but it was suddenly blocked by something I couldn't fathom, now dancing like drunk, blind moths. I looked around, my breath hitching, something was definitely wrong with the key lines here, I saw as they pulsed crazily, like someone had bled dark magic into the dirt and let it fester.

When I turned to my left, something suddenly hit me, making me almost lose my balance.

It wasn't blood, neither was it smoke, no. Power…raw, unfiltered deadly power.

I swallowed hard and continued moving, my palms now sweaty despite the cold in the woods.

But just then, I stopped in my tracks, my gaze catching something.

It was an altar, almost sunken between two, huge broken trees which were all drenched in something brown…like dried blood, darkened with ash. I saw as runes were carved very deeply into the altar's stones, still pulsing faintly with magic, whispering in a tongue that as a Fae, I shouldn't be able to understand.

But…the funny irony was that I did.

“You'll die here” I heard the runes whisper in my head. “You don't belong here”

I squinted my gaze and crouched down, my fingertip brushing across a marking. Instead of burning, it welcomed me.

And that was more terrifying than anything I've seen today.

Just then, I heard a crack and froze, my eyes widening, my ears twitching, trying to understand where it had come from.

I felt the forest as a whole still, even the animals dared not make a sound.

Then, I heard it….a breath, that didn't belong to me.

An inhale, just once, right behind me.

My instincts kicked in and I turned around almost immediately, but unfortunately, the spell I had chanted earlier, which was supposed to protect me till I returned was now gone, ripping itself off me as though it was fleeing from whatever it was I had sensed.

My wings shot out through my spine, shimmering in full view, its silver-blue colour glistening like molten glass.

I tried to reach for the hilt of my dagger but it wasn't there….and worse, I didn't feel it slip.

“Tsk….” The voice spoke up first. “You shouldn't have come here…. especially all fucking alone”

He didn't shout or growl, didn't need to.

I turned to my right, my left hand stretched out as I summoned a blade I had hidden previously from the shadows.

He didn't flinch, well…the almighty Razek Vorin didn't need to.

His body came out of the dark like it was always part of it. He was tall with wide shoulders and black tattoos crawling up both arms like they were alive. His hair was messy and dark and his jaw was sharp, his eyes weren't normal eyes, no, they were like smoke with fire in them. goddess, he smelled like…..

"Don't look at me like that," he said walking closer. "You don't know what you're feeling yet."

"I know enough," I said. "You're dead."

I moved and he moved faster.

My blade swung toward his throat but almost immediately, he caught my wrist, his other hand twisted behind my back, slammed me against a tree with a hot breath in my ear.

I didn't cry out, I snarled, then spun another blade and let it slash low toward his ribs. He ducked with a laugh. "Fae tricks won't save you, little storm."

"Get off me." I growled.

"You're shaking." He muttered with a sneer.

"I'm going to carve your name into your own spine." I threatened.

"I bet you say that to all your victims."

"You won't be one, you'll be mine." I shot back without thinking straight.

That made him pause. His hand tightened around my wrist, not enough to break it, but enough to say he could. "So that's why they sent you, to seduce me? Or to kill me?" He squinted his gaze.

"To kill you." I snarled.

He leaned closer. "To fail?”

My blood sang and the mark on my wrist lit up again, burning hotter. I cursed under my breath, twisted, bit back a scream, then shoved magic into his chest. It should've blasted him back but it didn't instead, it wrapped around him like it knew him. He felt it too.

His breath caught and his grip faltered but only for a second. Then he leaned in with his lips touching my throat. I whispered a fae curse into his skin, one that should've hurt him.

He growled but not from pain….from pleasure. "You shouldn't be able to…."

"I shouldn't," I snapped.

He grinned against my jaw. "Then why does your magic want me?”

"It doesn't." I replied.

"It does," he said softly. "And I'm going to ruin every part of you before you figure out why."

My knees buckled not from fear but from knowing because whatever this was….this pull, this storm….I hadn't just walked into it, I'd been dragged.

And for the first time in my life I wasn't the hunter, I was the one being haunted down.