53: 53 Gotcha!

53 Gotcha!

Catherine's POV 2

I squatted in the bushes, and the werewolf's excellent eyesight allowed me to see clearly what was happening by the lake.

I watched Lancaster whistle with my own eyes. This high-pitched sound can not only control the Bone Wolves, but also appears to be mentally offensive to a particular person.

Delia was barely hanging on, and I watched her cower in the boat.

If it hadn't been for me and Lancaster, she'd be in a boat right now heading to the Moon Goddess Palace to complete the trials.

Alas, Lancaster would not let her succeed.

He has some bad taste. He loves to see his prey trapped and miserable.

What a perverted hobby, I sneered.

Just as I was about to break Lancaster's sickening whistle, Delia plunged like a white fish into the water.

Oh? Did she kill herself because she couldn't stand the pain? My eyebrows twitched and I paused.

No, my gut tells me she's not that fragile. Delia threw an arrow at me in my own home and left me with a wound. That's something even Lancaster couldn't do.

It's funny. I'm staring at the lake, and there's some anticipation in my eyes that I don't know about.

The moonlit lake was calm, like a large black mirror reflecting the sky. On the shore, Lancaster was walking restlessly in his black cloak.

"D.AMN!"

"Delia! Don't think you're gonna get away with this!"

"I'll find you soon!"

Lancaster threatened loudly and viciously, his eyes wandering about the calm water, his steps quickening, pacing the shore.

The whistles hung on his chest, and the wolves were tossing back and forth on the shore as Lancaster moved. The water on the shore was churning with their white claws, the deep blue water floated up the yellow sand at the bottom of the lake.

"F.uck! ! !" Lancaster shouted irritably at the tranquil water. But no matter what he said, there was no response.

My shoulders relaxed against the tree trunk behind me, and if I weren't hiding now, I would laugh out loud.

It had been a long time since I had seen Lancaster so inept and furious.

I stared at the lake. Werewolves don't like to swim, including me, but that doesn't mean we can't. On the contrary, we are very good at catching prey in the water when we need to.

Fortunately for Delia, she was blessed by the last king and Queen.

Not all werewolves can enter the lake in front of the Moon Goddess Palace. If an ordinary werewolf rushes into the lake, he will either faint or die.

It was because he knew how strong the lake was that he could only be angry on the shore.

"Delia, I advise you to come out early. It must be hard for you to hold your breath in the water," said Lancaster in a seductive tone, not as eager as before.

“We can talk about this, Delia. As long as you quit this queen's game, I swear to the moon goddess, I will never touch you again.”

With a wave of his hand, the wolves retreated slowly, and the water on the shore was calm again.

The leaves rustled, and something in the air seemed to tighten again. I slowed my breathing and looked carefully at what was in front of me.

Let's see, Delia, what you'll do to Lancaster.

Yes, a man like Lancaster would not be a devout believer to the Moon goddess. He was a madman, and I dare say that when Delia emerged from the lake that sheltered her, Lancaster would turn his back on everything she had just said.

A white scarf floated on the water.

My pupils constricted.

The white scarf was beautiful and saintly. It had delicate lace patterns and was adorned with thousands of tiny diamonds. It was like a million stars falling into a net. It was the veil that Delia had put on.

“Yes, that's it, Delia, just come slowly.” Lancaster was beside himself with joy. He bent down to look at the white veil on the water, reaching out to grab it with longing and fear.

Delia was still underwater, but Lancaster clearly thought he had succeeded. He even ignored the deadly effects of the lake and slowly stepped into the water. With every step he took, the parts of his body that were wetted by the lake glowed green. But he didn't care. His hands were open, and he wanted to grab Delia first.

Behind him, countless tiny bubbles from the bottom of the water rose up in a series, like a fish breathing, but he did not notice anything strange.

The white scarf came closer and closer to him, and he squatted in the lake like a clumsy fisherman waiting for a fish to come to the net.

"Gotcha!"

Lancaster roared with rapture. He plunged into the water with a jerk, half his body diving into the water.

Behind him, I could clearly see Delia poking her head out of the water. She was drenched and the scarf tied to the end of her hair disappeared. In her right hand, there was a gleaming dagger!

Holding the dagger in both hands, Delia used all her strength to thrust it into the black cloak of Lancaster. The instant the dagger cut across the cloth, there was a rapid crash, but the blade did not touch his body.

She missed!

Delia realized something right away, but it was too late.

The black cloak was suddenly lifted and a brown wolf rushed out.

Lancaster probably knew something was wrong the moment he touched the white veil, so the moment Delia appeared behind him, he shifted into a wolf and dodged the fatal blow.

Delia immediately backed off, but Lancaster wouldn't let her go. Lancaster couldn't catch Delia in the water, but now that Delia had come out of hiding, it was different. He was standing on his hind legs in the water, and his front legs were hurling viciously at Delia. He opened his fangs, and the howling of the wolf filled the valley.

"Whoo-hoo-hoo!"

Delia is pinned down in the water with powerful wolf claws. With a wave of the cold light in her hand, there were several blood-colored wounds on Lancaster's wolf claws. Lancaster bared his teeth in pain. He was fierce, and his black eyes were filled with killing intent.

"I'll kill you!"

Lancaster howled. The lake churned, the yellow sand wet his fur, but the unblessed werewolf would only be punished by the moon goddess. His fur glowed green, as if it had moss, which seemed to dull his movements.

Delia took the opportunity to hide in the water, like a fish dodging the attacks of Lancaster. She struggled, but her strength was still too small for Lancaster.

I don't understand. Delia was unwise. The gap in their strength is too wide. There was no advantage in this, even if she had used the scarf as a trap to lure Lancaster into the lake. If Delia wanted to kill Lancaster with a dagger, I'd say she was pretty stupid.

Bang!

Lancaster finally seized the opportunity to bite Delia's wrist and yanked her onto the shore. Delia was thrown hard on the ground. She groaned, her soft body falling to the ground from the water, and she curled up like a pearl being plucked from a shell.

“Delia, should I say you have courage?”

Lancaster stepped out of the water, his cape broke in half, and he threw it straight into the water. The lake glowed green and slowly swallowed it up.

He was like a butcher slaying his prey, circling maliciously around Delia, who was powerless to fight back. He felt incomparable excitement. When he saw the whistle in Delia's hand, his outstretched hand stopped abruptly.

The next moment, Lancaster saw Delia give him a defiant smile. The whistle that had hung from his chest was held in Delia's hand. Her cold, pale, lake-soaked lips pressed together, and a shrill whistle pierced the sky.

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