29. Tayla

Chapter twenty-nine

Tayla

As we journeyed home, my legs felt heavy with exhaustion. But my mind was light with relief, knowing that I would finally be reunited with my father. The smoke from the chimney had just come into view.

Reaching the cottage, I pushed the door open and walked inside.

“Papa?” I called out but was greeted with silence. This was very strange as my father rarely left the house because he feared his debtors might attack him on the road. But he might be in the backyard cutting wood. But then I picked up the faint smell of blood.

I frowned and narrowed my eyes to follow the trail of blood all the way upstairs. I felt my heart racing in fear as I then heard people wailing upstairs. What had happened? Why were there people in my father's room?

As I entered the room, my heart sank into my stomach, seeing my father lying on the ground surrounded by a pool of blood. His eyes were wide, and blood gushed from the open cut on his neck. A group of men and women surrounded him, their faces pale with grief.

My mind went numb and for a moment, shock ran throughout my body. I stumbled back, grasping the doorknob for support as I gazed at the body.

I fell to my knees instantly, my trembling hands reaching out to touch his cold body.

“Papa?” I called out, shaking his body, but it was clear that he had been dead for a long time now. Who killed him?

I refused to accept that my father was gone. This had to be some sort of prank from my father and the people around. He couldn’t be dead. But deep down, I knew this was real.

I gasped in shock! My father had never played such a prank on me before. The room began to spin before me. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.

I shook his body again, and when he didn't respond, I let out a loud scream. Tears fell down from the corner of my eyes and rolled down my cheek. As I let out another mournful scream, tears streamed down my cheeks. One of my friends rushed up the stairs and to my side to calm me down.

I gasped for air, and that's when I lost it. All the anger and frustration I had been pressing down boiled over, and I could no longer contain myself. I lunged at one of the men and grabbed his collar before slamming his back against the hard wall.

“What happened to my father?” I snarled, my wolf instincts coming out. “What have you all done to him?”

The man whimpered, trying to escape from my grip, but I tightened.

“Speak!” I ordered.

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around the room before meeting my gaze.

“Marcel…he arrived in rage with his followers and threatened to wipe out the whole pack if they didn't provide the descendant. Your father tried to reason with him to stop the killings…,” the man explained.

“Marcel?” I repeated. “Who is he?” I questioned, my mind reeling.

“He is the leader of all Lycans, and he is in search of the descendant of the five witches from the past,” he replied.

I felt a bile rise up in my throat. I released the man, turning around as my hands clenched into a fist. My vision blurred with hot rage as my mind flashed back to the creatures who had abducted me.

It was impossible to fight those creatures unless you were ready to meet your death. But why wasn't Alpha Adrian doing anything about it?

I turned to the man, rage boiling over. “What about Alpha Adrian? Why isn't he doing anything to stop the killing? Why won’t he make peace with the Lycans?”

“He has tried making peace with those creatures, but they refuse to negotiate without having the descendant who they believe resides in this pack,” the man explained.

With my blood boiling, I threw a punch at the wall. My jaw clenched in anger, my face turning into a darker shade of red. When my eyes landed on my father once again, my eyes burned with tears.

My knees felt weak, and I dropped to the ground again. Oh Lord, please let this be a horrible nightmare!

“I am sorry for the loss of your father, Tayla!” My other friends rushed in, comforting me with a hug.

“No… No… No.” I reached for my father's cold hands and cried. I didn't get to see him or say goodbye before his death.

“No!” I screamed before getting up and hurrying out of the cottage. I walked a straight path without turning around, even after hearing my name being called out by my friends.

Right now, I needed a moment alone to think. My mind drifted back to Asher and the anger I had for him intensified. He was the cause of this!

If he had at least let me go in the beginning, I would have got to see my father and prevent his death. If he hadn't captured me or lied about our marriage, I would have been with my father. I would have been here .

It felt as if I was walking on an ice lake; my body and mind were slowly freezing up. I couldn't speak or think. All I could do was keep walking. I didn't know how much time I had spent walking.

I could see carriages moving down the road, but I was unable to hear the sound of the wheels—as if I had gone deaf.

The next thirty minutes were hard. I silently cried as I walked farther from the cottage, replaying the fond memories I had with my father. He was a good man, and he didn't deserve to die. The more I thought about him, the more I realized I wouldn't see him again, and the memories of him were slowly fading and becoming distant in my head.

I felt sick, like I'd fall to the ground at any moment. After a long walk, I stumbled upon the pack tavern. I walked inside, took a seat, and ordered five shots of liquor.

The woman behind the bar top looked at me with widened eyes, surprised that a young girl like me would be drinking so much. But when I dropped extra coins on the table, she quickly went away to get the drinks.

When the drinks arrived, I gulped the first two down. I wanted to completely immerse myself in this world. After finishing all five, my mind became hazy, and I could barely think straight.

I thought back to the time I was still in Silvermoon, living with my father before Asher came into the picture. Those happy memories were completely shattered when Asher came into my life.

I ordered more liquor, determined to drown myself in sorrow. I continued drinking to the point where I could barely stand up straight without stumbling. When it was finally time to return home, I stood up from the chair, struggling to stay put and nearly falling back to my seat.

The tavern was now quiet, with most patrons having retired to their houses. It was late at night, and I worried about reaching home safely…if at all.

Stepping outside the tavern, I was greeted by the darkness and the haunting reminder of my father's death. I needed to get home and start planning for his burial.

I couldn't help but feel an excruciating headache. Now that I was alone in this world with no family.

I walked down the quiet road, my vision blurring and my eyes partially closed. Fortunately for me, I was able to reach home—barely. The people who had gathered earlier to sympathize with me had dispersed to their homes.

Just as my hand reached for the door and was about to open, I picked up on a familiar scent in the air. My senses went high on alert as I slowly realized the scent was from the creatures who abducted me—the Lycans. They smelled putrid to my nostrils.

My eyes widened in fear, and I slowly turned around. I walked around the cottage, scanning the surroundings to satisfy my curiosity, but my vision was blurry with drink. When I didn't see anyone, I turned and felt a sharp pain burn around my neck.

I hissed, my hands instinctively reaching to the point of pain, but my fingers began burning as well. I winced, realizing I was subdued with a wolfsbane-infused collar.

I tried to shift, but the pain was intense, and I fell to the ground in agony. One of the men grabbed my other arm, and I was heaved into the air. I struggled, trying to fight back, but the men overpowered me. They tightened the collar around my neck as I gasped for air.

Summoning all the strength inside me, I slammed one of the men off of me.