78: 78 Love Problems

78 Love Problems

Vivian's POV 1

Everything that happened today was strange. I found myself perched on a grand tree in a secluded corner of the palace, supporting my chin as I pondered recent events.

It was the first time I had witnessed Delia wearing such an expression. In my eyes, she had always been gentle, but today she exuded an aura of unfamiliarity.

I still vividly recall the initial encounter with her, where her innocent gaze left an indelible impression on me. However, everything has now undergone a transformation. Her eyes contained a trace of something different. Letting out a sigh, I found a suitable position, reclining against the tree trunk. Through the gaps in the foliage, I gazed at the azure sky, while the dialogue between us resurfaced in my mind.

"Vivian, I know the wondrous abilities possessed by you witches. You have the Silver Robe of Magic, magical elixirs, and even the power of shape-shifting. Therefore, you must have a way to help me, right?"

Delia clutched my hand tightly, her urgency palpable as she spoke. Her eyes brimmed with distress and helplessness, rendering it impossible for me to refuse her plea.

Her dependence, as mirrored in her eyes, stirred something within me. Consequently, I nodded, signifying my willingness to extend any help I could provide.

"Ah, certainly, Delia. I am an omnipotent witch. Crafting potions, such as love elixirs, is an easy task for me. However, in accordance with the witch's code, concocting such a specialized potion demands the sacrifice of something precious in your life, lest we incur the wrath of the gods."

"What must I sacrifice?" Delia furrowed her brows, expressing her uncertainty.

"Everything, anything you consider precious," I replied to her.

However, it was clear that Delia didn't fully grasp the meaning behind my words. So, I proceeded to explain further, "The love potion you desire is a type of bewitching elixir that disrupts one's thoughts. To create it, you must sacrifice something you hold dear. This item carries the essence of your emotions, which will then be transferred to the person who consumes the potion, making them fall in love with you."

I continued, sharing an example, "Let me tell you an example. Three years ago, a woman went to great lengths, traversing mountains and rivers, to reach my mentor's house. She seeks a magical potion to reclaim her lost love. The woman presented numerous exquisite items, adorning the floor with gold and silver jewelry. However, my mentor declined them all, as they held no true value. Finally, the woman paid the ultimate price—her own child—for a single vial of the potion. From that moment forward, she would never have another child in her life."

Delia's expression shifted to one of shock, and a hint of fear flickered in her eyes. I didn't want her to misunderstand me, so I hastened to clarify, "It is a simple exchange we made. Without it, the potion would not be effective."

"But you mentioned human women, and I am a werewolf. What can I offer in exchange?" Delia's voice quivered as she spoke.

"Your ability to shift into a wolf, Delia. This extraordinary power is just as precious as human fertility and can serve as a worthy sacrifice," I explained candidly.

For werewolves, the power to shape-shift was undeniably a precious gift.

Delia stood frozen, resembling a statue carved in stone.

Cautiously gauging her expression, I hesitated before asking, "So, Delia, are you truly willing to proceed with this?"

Her face paled, and her trembling fingers crossed tightly. I could see the inner turmoil she was experiencing.

"Vivian, let me think," Delia weakly spoke after a long pause. She sat at the dressing table, gazing at her reflection in the mirror.

"Alright, take your time and come find me when you've made your decision," I understood that Delia wanted to be alone, so I exited the room.

Letting out a long sigh, I shifted a position on the tree trunk and turned to look through the gaps in the leaves, gazing at the grand palace before me.

It was a magnificent and breathtaking structure. Towering black walls, winding white corridors, and golden decorations adorned every corner of the palace. Moreover, I particularly enjoyed witnessing the lanterns illuminated in the night one by one, creating a mesmerizing galaxy-like display in the distance. However, the memory of Delia's distraught face weighed heavily on my heart, dampening my spirits. Suddenly, this place no longer held the same allure.

"I miss my mentor," I murmured, swinging my legs aimlessly.

Once Delia made her decision, it would be time for me to leave and return home. I had resolved within myself that it was the right course of action.

Bud's POV

In the late hours of the night, I removed my armor and lay down on the bed, seeking solace.

In an attempt to quell my overwhelming desire to see Catherine, I deliberately filled my days with an abundance of tasks, hoping they would consume my energy and redirect my thoughts. I desperately wished to cease the constant longing for her, as it inflicted great mental torment upon me.

However, my efforts proved fruitless. Whenever I found myself alone in my chamber, thoughts of Catherine flooded my mind like an unstoppable tide. I stared at the moon outside the window, its gentle glow serving as a reminder of the night we shared.

Catherine's captivating eyes, her tender, glistening lips, the silky strands of her flowing hair, and the alluring scent that emanated from her skin— they all danced vividly in my memory.

Damn it! I couldn't bear the weight of my desires any longer. I struck my head with an open palm, hoping the physical pain would somehow alleviate the torment of longing. But the momentary sting only intensified the agony, serving as a harsh reminder of my powerlessness.

"Ah..." I let out a long, pained groan, attempting to release the anguish that had consumed me. Finally, in an act of surrender, I retrieved the desiccated rose from beneath my pillow and brought it close to my nose, yearning for a faint trace of Catherine's fragrance.

It was the same flower I plucked from Catherine's window on the day of my departure. Now, it had withered completely, the once-moist petals transformed into fragile, papery remnants. Still, I couldn't bring myself to part with it. I pressed it against my nose, hoping to capture even the slightest essence of her intoxicating scent. The memories of that fateful night came flooding back, and my desire for Catherine's touch grew even stronger.

Frantically, I squeezed the lifeless flower as if it were her very body, hoping to extract a drop of precious nectar to temporarily soothe my yearning. But the brittle petals crumbled in my grasp, leaving behind only scattered remnants that fluttered down upon my body, accentuating my sense of despair.

F.uck! F.uck! F.uck!

Why am I not an Elder? Why do I lack the power I so desperately need? Why?! Why?! I vented my frustration by striking the bed with my fists, but the release proved futile, offering no solace to my troubled soul.

The faint moonlight bathed my body, its soft glow reminiscent of a gentle snowfall, as if nature itself mourned the weight of my unfulfilled desires.

I must admit, I still yearn for her, my Catherine, my mate.

But tomorrow, after Prince Kral's engagement ceremony, she will be distanced from me. She will embark on a journey to another country, becoming someone else's bride, while I remain powerless.

Agony consumes my heart.

"Howl~~~" My wolf lets out a cry, venting its discontent. It speaks of its desires, craving an immediate meeting with Catherine!

Driven by this longing, I swiftly rise from my bed, hastily dress myself, and without a moment's delay, I bypass the door and leap out the window, racing towards Elder William's castle.

I tell myself that I simply want to steal one last glimpse of Catherine before the moon sets, just one fleeting moment to hold onto.

However, as I stand before Catherine's window, I find myself hesitating to push it open. My outstretched hand withdraws timidly on multiple occasions.

Would Catherine be willing to see me? I lack the confidence to answer such a question.

Suddenly, the window is forcefully swung open, startling me backward. And there, right before my eyes, Catherine appeared, her beauty reminiscent of a blooming rose.

"How long do you want to linger outside my window?" She arches an eyebrow, her eyes shimmering with a mysterious allure. "The moon is on the verge of setting. Won't you come inside and spend a moment with me?"

At that instant, I felt like a marionette in her hands. Even if the path ahead leads to damnation, at her mere command, I would willingly follow it.

I am utterly defenseless against Catherine's enchantments.

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