The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate-Chapter 167: A Boy In A Cage

Rising from the couch, Esme lowered herself gracefully to her feet and approached the door. She hesitated for a moment, carefully peeking out into the corridor. It stretched before her, silent and desolate, with no sign of life in sight.

The emptiness felt unnerving, but lingering in the room wouldn’t solve her problem—she desperately needed water to soothe her throat.

Determined, Esme stepped into the corridor, and the faint echo of her footsteps was the only sound that accompanied her.

She considered finding a maid to assist her, but as she moved through the dimly lit halls, her hopes dwindled. The long passage led to an archway, yet the eerie stillness persisted. There wasn’t a soul nearby.

Eventually, Esme stumbled upon the kitchen. Grateful for the reprieve, she grabbed a glass, filled it water and drank deeply. The first glass vanished in moments, and her thirst was soothed after emptying the glass for the third time.

Wiping her mouth, Esme glanced around the empty kitchen. She wondered where everyone disappeared to, and for a brief moment, she considered seeking out her father, only to realize, with a pang of frustration, that she didn’t know where the council’s meeting was being held. Worse yet, she couldn’t remember the way back to the room she had just left.

"I didn’t think of all this," Esme immediately realized that if the guards returned and didn’t find her there, they might panic and report her absence to her father. She was so thirsty that she hadn’t considered me consequences of leaving her room unannounced.

Placing the cup back on the table, Esme retraced her steps carefully, but before she could take more than a few steps, she bumped into a figure who stepped into her path. It was a bald man, clad in the distinguished attire of the Royal Court. His stern demeanor and regal bearing left no doubt in her mind that he was a member of the King’s council.

"Little children shouldn’t wander about unattended," he remarked, and his tone was sharp, laced with a hint of disapproval.

Esme quickly lowered her head, offering a quick apology. "I... I didn’t see you," she stammered, her voice faltering.

At first, she had been eager to run into someone, hoping to ask about her father’s whereabouts, but now hesitation gripped her. The man’s austere presence and glaring eyes made her second-guess whether she should speak at all.

"If you’re looking for your father, you won’t find him here," the man said, his voice steady, but low enough to draw Esme’s gaze to him. He gestured down the hallway to their right. "He couldn’t find you, so he went that way. If you keep straight, you should catch up to him. The palace isn’t safe right now, there’s a cursed being in our custody, so the sooner you find your father, the better."

"Thank you," Esme replied, with a small smile, a mixture of nervousness and appreciation evident on her face before she headed in the direction he indicated.

She lifted the hem of her dress to avoid tripping, whilst she quickened her steps as she pressed forward. Her heart still raced from the earlier tension, and the man’s demeanor unsettled her. Yet, his calm explanation about her father’s whereabouts stunned her.

Refusing to remain scared, she pushed through the growing fatigue creeping into her limbs. The further she went, the dimmer the corridor became, whilst the shadows deepened with each step.

She paused abruptly, glancing over her shoulder. The stark contrast between the faintly lit area she left behind, and the oppressive darkness ahead was striking. It left her momentarily frozen as unease began to settle over her.

Coming to an instinctive conclusion that told her she shouldn’t be here, Esme was startled by the sharp, sudden sound of the door slamming behind her. Her breath hitched as her pupils widened in alarm, and she reached out reflexively, tugging at the door’s handle. It wouldn’t budge.

She hadn’t even realized there was a door here. That explained the sudden change in lighting. But how did the door close shut all of a sudden? She didn’t feel a wind.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" She called, her voice sharp with unease. She banged her small fist against the heavy wood, but the silence that answered only deepened her anxiety.

Her heart raced in her chest as she turned back to the dimly lit space. Shadows looked around her, and the oppressive darkness stretched out like a suffocating veil over the path ahead. Desperate for light, Esme spotted a torch mounted on the wall just out of reach.

Spotting a barrel nearby, she dragged it against the cold stone, it’s weight scraping with an unnerving echo. Carefully, she climbed atop of it, balancing precariously as she stretched onto the top of her toes. Her fingers brushed the torch, and with a determined yank, she pulled it free.

The flickering flame illuminated her surrounding, but it did little to calm her. She cast another glance at the sealed door, hoping whoever locked it would realize she was stuck here. But no, that didn’t happen.

Her throat tightened, and the heat creeping through her body reminded her of the urgency of her situation. She needed her medicine, and soon.

"How am I supposed to get out of here?" Esme wondered out loud, her voice filled with a mixture of uncertainty and fear. Clutching the torch tightly in both hands, she pressed forward. The councilman had assured her she’d find her father here, but the silence was oppressive, and the emptiness around her gnawed at her resolve.

Had her father already left? Or had the councilman lied?

Esme swallowed hard. The torch wavered as her steps quickened, casting shadows that danced ominously along the damp stone walls. Her breath hitched when the glow illuminated massive cages lining up cavernous space. Most appeared empty, but their sheer size made her churn with unease. Whatever this place was, she was certain she wasn’t meant to be here.

The path seemed endless, twisting and turning, only to lead her to a dead end. Whenever she stumbled upon another branching corridor, an almost suffocating sense of dread emanated from the darker tunnels, freezing her in place. She didn’t dare venture into them.

Her eyes stung with tears as desperation began to creep in.

’What if I can’t find my way back? What if I never see father again?’ she had only wanted water, but ended up getting lost in the process. Her father would be worried sick, all because of her mistake.

"Is anyone here?!" Esme’s voice rang out into the emptiness, only to be echoed back in return. It was dreadfully silent, and her knees buckled beneath her. A feverish heat surged through her body as her vision blurred, and it threatened to overwhelm her.

"Please, anyone?" she called again, her voice faltering.

Her heart stopped when a faint hum broke through the stillness. Her breath caught as she whipped her head around, searching for its source. The space, however, remained void of any movement, no faces, no figures—only the haunting melody.

The humming persisted, carrying a soft, almost soothing tune. A flicker of relief stirred in her chest, as her frantic mind jumped to the conclusion that it might be a guard making rounds. The rational thought was enough to steady her trembling hands as she clutched her torch tighter.

Summoning the last of her strength, Esme pushed herself to her feet and dared to follow the sound. The closer she came, the louder the hum grew, until it filled the air around her, palpable and undeniable.

Rounding a corner, Esme froze when her torchlight fell upon a cage, and within it, a boy sat quietly, his charped lips parted as he hummed the tune.

"It’s a boy," Esme blinked in bewilderment.

He was resting against the cold, rough wall, softly humming an unrecognizable melody. A dark blindfold concealed his eyes, and his body bore the marks of deep, angry wounds that painted his skin with blood and grime. Majority looked like claw marks, still fresh, and it made Esme’s skin crawl with disbelief. His once-pristine hair hung in filthy, matted strands, streaked with dried crimson, framing his face in shadows.

Every inch of him seemed to tell a story of torment.

Esme simply froze, her breath catching as her wide eyes fell on him. The sight of his frail, injured form struck her like a blow. She hated the sight of blood, and he was drenched in it— both new and old.

What was he doing here, when he so clearly needed care?

Summoning her courage, Esme stepped out from the shadowed corner where she’d been hiding, her movement hesitant. The boy’s humming suddenly faltered, making her pause. He tilted his head slightly, as though he could feel her presence.

Glancing around, Esme realized with a sinking heart that he was utterly alone here in this darkness. She edged closer to his cage, the dim torchlight flickering against the bar. She set the torch aside and crouched cautiously, her voice soft but insistent as she asked, "Are you alright?"

Her eyes scanned him, her concern deepening at the sight of his wounds, some still oozing with blood.

The boy however stiffened at the sound of her voice, his shoulders drawing tight as he whispered hoarsely, disbelief thick in his tone. "A child? Is that... a child? What’s a child doing here?"

Esme’s eyes widened when she noticed the sharp fangs glinting from his mouth. Her instincts flared, and she stumbled back a few steps. Her heart pounded when he shook his head and yelled, "GO AWAY! GET AWAY FROM HERE!"

His unexpected outburst jolted her to the core. Without thinking, she retreated further, her wide eyes falling to his clawed fingers. He tore mercilessly at his own arms, leaving fresh gashes in their wake.

"No! They sent you here, didn’t they?!" He bellowed, his fury unmistakable. "Get out of here! I SAID GET OUT!!" his yells soon turned into heart-wrenching sobs that cut through the air like a blade. "I don’t want to hurt anyone, I wasn’t myself. Why won’t they understand?"

Esme’s gaze flickered to the deep marks on his neck, spreading like dark, sinister veins up his face. The sight twisted her stomach, but she couldn’t look away.

"Hungry..." he muttered, "so...so... hungry," he whipped his head back and forth. "Get me out of here, the people, this voices... they’re driving me insane. Please, I need your help!" he lunged towards the cage’s entrance, his fingers curling around the bars as he pressed himself closer.

Esme fell backwards in her attempt to retreat, her pulse hammering in her ears. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to run, but her legs felt like stone, refusing to obey.

She gasped when the cage door creaked open, and he stumbled out. His steps were uneasy and uncoordinated, and he staggered towards her. Esme immediately cowered, closing her eyes tight and turning her head away, afraid he was going to harm her, but she instantly froze when his weight fell forward, his head landing gently on her lap as he crumpled to the floor.

The unconscious figure was utterly still, his breath shallow, and Esme remained frozen, her eyes falling on the figure who still had fresh tears running down his wet cheek.