Chapter 153: A Faint Bitterness
{Third Person}
"The truth is that the curse does not simply affect Alexander’s emotions. When an episode begins, everything becomes amplified. Excitement becomes stronger. Anger becomes stronger. Even simple irritation can grow far beyond what it normally should."
Amara listened carefully as they continued along the pathway.
"The longer the episode lasts, the worse it becomes. Most of the time, Alexander remains in his wolf form for a significant portion of those three days."
Amara’s steps slowed slightly. The enormous black wolf she had encountered before immediately came to mind.
Barron noticed the expression on her face and nodded. "Exactly."
For several moments, neither of them spoke. Then Amara asked quietly, "And the bloodlust?"
Barron’s expression became more serious. "That is one of the most dangerous aspects of the curse."
He paused briefly before continuing. "Fresh blood becomes extremely tempting during an episode. Alexander spends every moment fighting against those instincts."
The answer unsettled her more than she expected. Though she wasn’t scared of him, she just suddenly understood how exhausting that battle must be.
Barron continued walking, his gaze fixed ahead. "Fortunately, Alexander has always possessed extraordinary self-control. Most people would have surrendered to the curse years ago."
Amara frowned slightly. "What happens when he loses control?" she asked, despite already witnessing one of those moments.
"It depends on the severity of the episode," Barron answered after a moment of silence.
And that answer alone made her uneasy.
"There have been times when extra precautions were necessary."
Amara immediately understood what he was trying not to say directly. The realization made her heart sink.
The image of the cold, powerful Alpha Prince being watched, restrained, and monitored by those around him felt strangely wrong. Yet it was reality.
For years, he had been carrying that burden alone.
As they approached the residence gates, another question surfaced in her mind. "Is that why everyone is so concerned about him finding his mate?"
Barron’s smile returned. "There it is."
Amara frowned. "What?"
"I was wondering how long it would take before you asked that question."
She rolled her eyes. Unfortunately, the reaction only seemed to amuse him further.
Barron folded his arms loosely across his chest as he explained. "For werewolves, a mate is not simply a husband or wife. A mate is someone chosen by nature itself. The bond is deeper than ordinary affection, deeper than marriage, and deeper than loyalty."
Just then, his expression grew more thoughtful. "A mate becomes a source of stability. Strength. Comfort. Someone capable of calming even the most violent instincts."
Amara remembered Elowen describing the bond before. At the time, it had sounded a little romantic, but now, it sounded important. Vital, even.
"And for Alexander?" she asked quietly.
Barron’s answer came without hesitation. "For Alexander, his mate is more than that. She is his best chance at survival."
The words settled heavily between them. And for a moment, Amara found herself unable to respond.
She had known the curse was dangerous. She had known the King was worried. But hearing it described so plainly made the reality impossible to ignore.
Somewhere in the world existed a woman capable of changing Alexander’s fate. Someone capable of saving him.
For reasons she could not explain, the thought left a faint bitterness in her chest.
The feeling confused her immediately. She had no right to feel that way, yet it remained all the same.
Fortunately, Barron seemed too occupied with his own thoughts to notice.
By the time they reached the entrance of the residence, the conversation had ended, but the questions inside Amara’s mind had only multiplied.
Later, after she returned inside and Mrs. Woods welcomed her home, she found herself distracted for the rest of the afternoon.
What if the mages discovered something useful?
What if they failed again?
How much time did Alexander truly have left?
No matter how hard she tried to focus on other things, her thoughts kept returning to the same place.
---
That evening, news of the examination quietly spread through certain circles of the palace.
Most details remained hidden from the public. However, important people always found ways to obtain information.
The Second Prince was no exception.
When a trusted informant finally arrived with a report, Zarek listened carefully from his private study.
At first, the information seemed harmless. The curse remained active; no cure had been discovered. The examination had produced no breakthrough.
Then the messenger revealed one final detail. The mages had noticed an irregularity.
Zarek’s expression slowly darkened. "What kind of irregularity?"
"They believe the curse’s progression may have slowed." The man lowered his head.
A long, dangerous silence filled the room.
Zarek stared at the floor for several moments before dismissing the messenger. Only after the door closed did his expression finally harden.
’Slowed?’ He repeated to himself.
He did not like that word. Not at all.
For years, every report regarding Alexander had moved in only one direction. Worse. Declining. Deteriorating.
But now, for the first time, someone was suggesting the opposite. The possibility immediately unsettled him.
It wasn’t because Alexander had been cured. His reasons are far from it.
The curse remained intact. Yet if its progression had truly slowed, Alexander’s chances of surviving longer would have improved. And that was the last thing Zarek wanted.
Slowly, he rose from his chair and walked toward the window.
Outside, the palace grounds glowed beneath the evening light, but his expression only grew colder.
Whatever had caused this change needed to be identified. And if necessary, removed.
Because Alexander living longer was a future Zarek had absolutely no intention of accepting.
---
As Alexander entered his residence, several servants bowed respectfully and stepped aside.
He barely acknowledged them. His mind remained occupied by the examination and the strange conclusion the mages had reached.
The part where none of them could explain why the curse slowed irritated him the most.
A conclusion without an explanation was of little use.
The moment he entered his study, however, any hope of enjoying a few moments of peace disappeared immediately.
Barron was already there waiting.
"You took your time," he said.
Alexander stared at him, but that only widened his grin. "Well?"
Without waiting for an invitation, he dropped into one of the chairs facing the desk and crossed one leg over the other.
"What happened?"
