The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation novel Chapter 188

SIGRID

The scream lodged in my throat, my eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets as my trembling hands lifted the poor creature, barely clinging to life.

Its pale skin was covered in horrible black markings, like cursed patterns crawling across its tiny frame—even its face was tainted.

It didn’t cry.

I could feel its weak little heart faltering, barely beating.

Then, it opened its mismatched eyes—one of each color—staring up at the bitch who had been drowning it in the well.

"My lady, is something wrong?"

A voice behind me made my whole body seize up.

I wasn’t alone. Goddess, I had to play along, I had to become this vile woman—because if they found me out, I was dead.

"Nothing is wrong, Grimm. I’ll finish quickly, go prepare the carriage."

"It is already ready."

"Then go check it again, or are you deaf?!" I snapped, channeling every ounce of contempt I could muster, praying the tremor in this unfamiliar voice would go unnoticed.

When I heard his footsteps retreat, I turned away—standing in the middle of this strange forest, where all the trees were black, twisted—like the heart of this witch.

I walked fast, putting as much distance as possible between me and that death well, scanning my surroundings.

No one was there. So, I did the only thing I could think of to save this poor, dying baby.

I tore open the long wool coat draped over me, then my black blouse, tucking the infant against my bare chest, desperately trying to infuse warmth into its rigid little body before sealing my coat shut around it.

"Hold on, baby. For the Goddess’s sake, hold on," I begged, moving deeper into the forest, searching for shelter, anything to keep it safe.

I couldn’t be seen carrying this child—no one could know I had saved it.

I found a massive tree, its trunk hollowed out at the base.

With my free hand, I pushed aside the overgrown weeds, bracing myself in case some wild animal had made its home there.

But the animals… they didn’t seem to come here. I expanded my senses—still struggling to adjust to this woman's magic—but it seemed safe enough.

I sat on the dead leaves, whispering a healing incantation, breathing life into the baby.

When I heard its soft whimper, and its corpse-like skin took on a healthier tone, I sighed in relief.

This child was cursed. That’s why she had been drowning it in the well.

This baby… was the offspring of an elemental man and a witch. But according to the memories of this body I now inhabited, some births…

Some were defective.

The power of supernatural beings was too strong—and many babies born from unions with elementals couldn’t survive it.

Some were born deformed.

Others simply died.

"I’m so sorry, little one," I swallowed the lump in my throat, pressing a gentle kiss to the cursed marks on its forehead.

This child wouldn’t live long. But I would give it a chance.

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