The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate-Chapter 117: Don’t Give Them Anything

Their departure from the barrier left no trace of their presence behind, and Esme was speechless when they suddenly walked through an imperceptible veil and emerged onto a winding forest path, surrounded by tall, ancient, sentinel trees. The sudden transition was akin to being whisked away to Illyria like a portal.

It immediately dawned on her that this was how they’ve continued to stay hidden, a barrier that can’t be seen.

Donovan rode ahead, his warhorse a majestic, ebony silhouette that moved with a silent grace, its hooves barely disturbing the rustling leaves beneath. Despite the blindfold that shrouded his eyes, his awareness of their surroundings was unyielding.

Esme could only surmise that he had traversed this forest countless times, his familiarity with the route already etched into his very being.

She rode in contemplative silence, but then her gaze briefly shifted to Donovan as he lifted his hand, a subtle signal to the warriors riding behind him.

Instantly attuned to what that hand sign meant, Esme watched as a few of the warriors, including Althea and Acheron, swiftly drew their grappling hooks, launching them into the high branches of the nearby trees. With seamless precision, the hooks pulled the warriors effortlessly to the treetops, where they landed without a sound.

Using a series of concise hand signals, Althea directed the warriors under her command. She took charge of those clearly stationed on the right, while Acheron led the group on the left. The warriors who were already masters of both combat and stealth, moved through the trees like shadows, their presence almost undetectable.

Althea moved with the grace of a seasoned hunter, her eyes scanning the ground below, and it was an action that belied her otherwise cheerful nature.

Finnian and his companion, who were granted the luxury of remaining inside the carriage, watched in awe from the curtains as the warriors moved with disciplined grace. Luca’s green eyes were practically vibrating with excitement as he watched them move.

He longed to be among them, to ride amongst such seasoned warriors of the Damned — but he knew his moment would come, when he would make his father proud and be amongst the next batch of warriors once he’s done with the academy.

"You come from a warrior pack don’t you?" He nudged Finnian by the shoulder. "Care to tell me and the scaredy cat over there why they are up in the trees?"

Finnian took his seat on the carriage and replied casually, "for ground surveillance, I guess," he shrugged. "From higher grounds, they have a better vintage point to spot potential threats before anyone else. That way, it’ll be quicker for them to alert the rest of the group."

Simon also gazed out the window, observing their moves. "I heard the raven already scouts the perimeter, checking for dangers up ahead. So this has to be what they call the second sweep, just to make sure we don’t walk into anything unexpected."

"It’s impressive how vigilant the Alpha is," Finnian couldn’t help but feel his respect for Donovan grow. "He’s always ahead of the game. I’d give anything to learn how he stays so prepared all the time," he added quietly, hoping that someday, the Alpha might share his insights with him.

Throughout the long night, their journey took them through the forest that gradually thinned, and the dense canopy gave way to rugged, rocky trails as they neared the foothills of the northern mountain. The path ahead wound steeply, the terrain becoming harsher with each passing mile.

They had carefully avoided the main routes, steering clear of the bustling roads with Kangee flying above and reporting to them about the dangers or obstacles it spotted miles away. Everyone’s curse marks remained hidden beneath their layers of clothing, and the same went for Donovan, who had a shawl wrapped around his neck to conceal it, but the dark runes on his face, though visible, seemed less striking in the night.

The further they traveled north, the more the warmth of the southern air faded. A biting chill began to cut through the night, sharper with every breath, but fortunately, their cloaks provided enough warmth to keep them moving. Esme glanced up to the sky, which was once a glittering canvas of stars, but now, it had darkened with rolling clouds, a heavy gray that signaled the unforgiving cold of the northern lands.

"Are you cold?" Donovan asked Esme, and she shook her head.

"I’m fine. Sure it’s a bit cold, and maybe it’s because of the cloak, but I don’t feel it as much as I expected."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Esme reassured him. "If I feel it too much, I’ll just retire to one of the carriages. So let’s keep moving."

Donovan turned his head away, and a subtle smile curved his lips. As the journey proceeded, the cold only grew harsher, and Esme was glad Donovan had the boys stay in the warmth of the carriage, or else, they wouldn’t be able to handle it.

"Already this far north," she murmured, her voice soft. "It feels unwelcoming." She cast a glance at Donovan, searching for any sign of discomfort on his face, but his expression remained unreadable, betraying nothing.

"Do you think they know we’re coming?" Leonardo asked, his tone uncertain as they kept moving. "I heard the Alpha’s patrol is sharp — they don’t miss much."

"They’ll miss us," Lothar said with confidence, his breath visible in the chill air. "We were made for this, and we came well-prepared. I’m more surprised we haven’t encountered any demon beasts yet."

As they pressed on, the villages they encountered became more scattered, their numbers thinning out with every passing mile. The small cluster of homes they passed seemed more like decaying remnants, crumbling into ruin.

By dawn, they entered another desolate village, where a few gaunt figures stood in the shadowed doorways, their eyes hollow with suspicion and fear as they watched them pass by warily.

"Keep moving," Donovan commanded when he sensed everyone was starting to get sidetracked, his voice low but firm. No one questioned him.

"Is this really the North?" Althea murmured softly, her eyes sweeping over the bleak village. "It looks... primitive."

"There have been rumors," Donovan’s voice was low as he spoke. "That the new Alpha’s reign has changed the land. Even the weather has turned bitter since he took power."

Esme silently shared the sentiment. The villagers appeared worn and ragged, and their thin clothing offered little protection from the biting chill.

How could their Alpha let this happen?

"The people here are being neglected without care," Acheron chimed in grimly. "They face relentless taxes, so harsh that many have secretly sold their children just to survive. The Alpha of the North is brutal they said, and many describe his heart to be as cold as the glacier."

Esme scanned the faces of the people around her, a wave of empathy stirring in her chest. The worst thing that could really happen to a pack was being cursed with a cruel Alpha, and her heart went out for most of the children. Emily’s father likely lived in comfort, his position as beta ensuring a life of guranteed privilege. But that also meant he, too, turned a blind eye to the struggles of the pack, his duty to report emergencies to the Alpha perhaps overshadowed by the lure of status and security.

"Miss?" A soft voice drew Esme from her thoughts. She looked down to see a boy and a girl trailing behind their horses. The boy couldn’t have been more than ten, and the girl even younger, both dressed in ragged clothes that barely shielded them from the elements.

"Miss, we’re hungry," the boy pleaded, his voice trembling with desperation. "Our parents said if we don’t come home with food, they’ll give us away. Please, can you spare something?"

Esme’s heart inevitably clenched. The sight of these helpless children, ignored by those around them, unsettled her heavily. She found it strange that no one seemed to acknowledge their presence, and as she instinctively reached for her pouch to see if she had any coins to offer, a firm voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Don’t give them anything," Donovan’s voice was calm but unwavering, startling Esme. "I mean it—ignore them if you must."

His unexpected words left her shocked and conflicted.

"Why? They’re just children!" Esme’s voice broke with frustration as she questioned Donovan’s intention, her gaze shifting between him and the children struggling to keep their pace with the horses. Her heart clenched with indecision, caught between the desire to do as she pleases and help, or listen to the weight of Donovan’s warning.

"Listen to me, don’t give them anything, Esme," his tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Esme then looked around, searching for someone who shared her confusion, but the others remained impassive, offering no sign of support. Her eyes met Leo, who shook his head, silently urging her to heed Donovan’s advice. Still, the children’s endless pleading, their tired faces tugged at her heartstrings, and it filled her with guilt.

She reluctantly tightened her pouch, fighting the urge to defy Donovan. Her silence spoke volumes as she turned her back on the children, the weight of her decision heavy on her chest. She didn’t speak to Donovan again after that, her mind clouded with unspoken resentment.