Thirty Eight

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Thirty-eight

"Master," a petite lady with a French braid entered, bowing to the man in a black cloak fearfully. The room was eerie, silent, and cold chill, which gave the lady cautious goosebumps.

The man's fluttered eyelashes opened, showing his red demonic eyes as he rested on a throne-like chair. The castle he created for his subjects. A camouflage from fog which he used to build this castle underground by using black magic. If his subjects or followers could actually see beneath the camouflage was a crumbled abandoned mansion.

"Yeah," he tapped his fingers on the armchair, humming in response, fitting the dark shadow; no one has seen his face except some selected people.

"We made the hallucination portion," the young black witcher informed him, showing him the small portion they'd been working on.

"Good," he praised, showing his black rotten teeth as he stretched his rotten decaying hand forward to collect the portion. He stared at it before returning to the witch, "I heard the Queen and King are out of the castle," he hummed, "give it to a servant to mix it with the Queen's drink," he commanded, "and she must drink it," he snarled, turning his face from the maid, he breathed in loudly closing his eyes trying to see what was happening through its eyes.

The King was a fool not to know that it was a mannequin that was always presented with him. He chucked darkly. With the help of black magic, he didn't need to go out or perform his duty, and the replica mannequin could do that for him. The replica mannequin of his before his mate died was always presented; since his mate was killed, he never set foot outside the sun because his body was decaying as he was using his energy to preserve his mate till he got his revenge.

He couldn't wait to have his revenge, and his mind could never rest in peace. His mate screams still echoed in his head as his hands were drenched with his mate's blood. His mind and hands were anticipating revenge. He didn't care what happened after his revenge, and his mind would finally be at peace.

He stared out the window vacantly, pulling out a cigar and lit up, taking a long drag between his bony fingers before puffing it out, drawing a heart with the smoke.

"Cassandra, I miss you," he whispered out. He stared at his arms where his mate took her last breath, and he walked to the other wing where the coffin of his mate lay. He opened the lid and touched his mate's pale white face. After so many years of magic and plotting, his time was coming.

His mate was a forbidden hybrid princess - a dragon witch princess that was said to be killed after the dragon clan's extinction but was hidden before he found her where she borrowed the sun in her dragon shifter form. He fell in love with her instantly and was head over heels for her even though he knew about her plan to kill the late Queen because of her resentment towards the late Queen. His mate was the black witch's princess, who automatically made him their commander; the black witches had traded their souls to the devil to follow orders of anyone except him because of the blood bond.

It was when the war of white witches and black witches was having problems coexisting together then the black witches invited their sisters who were white witches to join their coven, but they chose to make a fight. The King's mother being the white witch elders, was killed by his mate a day prior to the war when his mate wore the late King's mask; his mate tore the late Queen's body to pieces; unfortunately, when his mate wanted to make a run for it, the Zaccheaus came and in a fit of rage killed his mate with their baby growing in her.

He tried to protect his mate and King but followed the King's order upon getting there, and halfway to the castle, he met his mate's weakened body. He nearly died from the pain of his mate's death, but with his revenge, he kept moving on. He would make the King feel the pain of losing his mate at the brink of craziness. He would taunt him with his mate.

With the hallucinatia being given to the queen, he chuckled darkly, he would be able to control her, taunt her and become her worst nightmare and there was nothing the King could do with him being a dark witch. Dark witches were very rare with rare powers. Dark witchers were a crossbreed of a Witcher with another supernatural breed. They were either good or bad.

He stared at his dead mate longingly before giving her a kiss on her forehead, then closing the lid and waiting for his messenger.

He went to the crystal ball on the towel, murmuring some spells. As he moved his hands, sparkled light escaped from his palm as the ball began to rotate until it settled at the Cafe where the King, Queen, and his guards were. He smiled maniacally, shaking his head at the King's negligence because he couldn't perceive anything strange. He muttered some more spells to take the King's mind from the water his mate was drinking, for sometimes after she had swallowed it in a go, he smiled because he had accomplished his work. He raised his little finger to his sharpened fang and pierced it, drawing a drop of blood to the crystal ball, binding Nadazhda's soul to him.

When he saw the King and Nadazhda retrieved back to the sea after the day, he appointed a spectral demon to be his ears, to deliver everything and anything being said to him.

When the spectral demon came hurrying and informed him about the queen being pregnant, he felt a pure type of joy since his mate had left him because that was the news he had been waiting for.

He laughed loudly, scaring the demons and making them scurry away from him. He couldn't believe it.

"Prepare a buffet for everyone; we are celebrating this joyous moment," he ordered in a glottal sound, drinking the infant blood his servant had gotten for him from the goblet. Every creature hollered happily and screamed excitedly, and they couldn't wait to see the fall of the abomination King.

"Now, everyone, eat and enjoy yourself because our time has arrived. We will get our revenge," he stood up, dancing wobbly to the music being played.

"The King would make an announcement soon about their unborn child," he started, sticking out his snake-like tongue, "we would be called to the ball," he took a gulp, "unknowingly, inviting their doom" he laughed, "and I'm making my presence known."

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