Chapter 51 - Questions - Part 2

"Who am I to lie, dear sir?" he asked in a mocking manner, an attitude caused by the threat I had given him previously.

I was sure there were a couple of attempts before, and it was a rogue who did it. If not him, then who? So there was another group attacking us, and their purpose was taking Violet? Life really couldn't get any better now.

"It was a rogue that tried to take her," I ȧsserted, more like talking to myself but loudly.

Hearing my mumble, Leonard added, "Not all rogues are my men. They could be doing it on their own or under someone's order, but definitely not mine."

It was not possible for a rogue to have the guts to do such a thing alone. Them doing it under someone's order was more of a plausible explanation. Furthermore, I didn't think a rogue would have anything to do with Violet when she spent most of her life in her home. The first kidnapping attempt was just a few days after she got into my manor.

"When did you say you stopped the attacks?"

"Right after I heard the news of you finding your mate," he answered, a bit more compliant than before, "I think it was a day after you found her."

The line on my forehead creased deeper, recalling all the attacks that happened after I met Violet. I remembered there were still a few rogues trying to step their feet in our territory, but they all failed before they could even do so because we were more prepared that time. A few rogues came and escaped when their plan didn't work, but when I chased and cornered them, they died without me even touching them.

When they couldn't seem to escape, they puked vehemently, puking out their guts till death. It happened every time I managed to corner them, just a few feet away from catching them and getting an answer. But now that I think about it, the same thing didn't happen with the last attack on Alpha Harry's pack. The rogues didn't die out of nowhere. It was me who killed them.

Then, I must ȧssume the few rogues that came after I met Violet were not trying to attack the people, but in fact, trying to kidnap my mate. It was just that they failed before they could even proceed with their plan, and only two among their attempts were close to success.

The question was, the same thing didn't happen to all the rogues that came. Only the rogues that I chased puked to death, while the ones that managed to find Violet didn't. I should've asked them a few questions before killing them but my rage got the best of me. There must be something that triggered them to happen.

Just who the hell was it? Did I make enemies with someone without me knowing it? I thought I lived as a pretty decent man, but I guess not. What was the reason they tried to take Violet? Was it because she was my mate, or was it because there was something in her that they need?

'She offered me her help, saying that she would be happy if my plan works.'

That one sentence that Leonard told me kept running on my mind. What if it was the witch?

"Is there anything that you haven't told me about the witch?"

"I doubt so," Leonard frowned, trying to recall anything about the witch, "I don't know much about her, not even how she looks like. All I know is that she goes with the name Greta."

Greta, it was a name I've never heard before. I didn't know much about witches, only knowing that they were wicked creatures, though not all of them. I knew that there were two kinds of witches, a white witch, and a black witch. White witches were the good ones, while black witches were the adversary. They were different in nature, but both received the same amount of hatred.

I didn't know whether the witch who helped Leonard was a white or a black witch, but I knew for sure that she held an ill intention towards me—or Violet.

"How did you meet her?"

"I just came across her out of nowhere," he shrugged, "Ah, now that I think about it, I remember she said she would come to meet me on that day," added Leonard.

"That day?" one of my brows perked up to his statement.

"The day where you were supposed to kill yourself."

"Did she tell you for what reason?"

"The hearts," he answered, "I usually sent the hearts to the place where we usually meet, but this time she said she would come to get it herself."

This added up to my suspicion of the witch. Why would she suddenly offer to do that? Was it for me, or Violet? I needed to find out more about her. "Where did you usually meet?"

Leonard scoffed, "I think I have told you enough, no?"

"So you think your son's life is only worth a few questions?"

He glared at me, knowing that he had no choice but to answer me if he wanted his son to live. His face told me that he would rather die than helping me solve my problems.

"In a village not far from Mount Elard," he divulged, "Search for an abandoned church. That's where we usually meet."

If the witch came to his hideout that night, she must've realized that his plan had failed. It would be hard for us to find her by only knowing her name, and also with the fact that we couldn't tell other creatures apart. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, but still, we had no other choice but to try.

Chances were big that she wouldn't be there, but it was our only clue. We could search the whole place and the surrounding area for any sign of a witch.

Now, I knew for sure that witches were trying to make a move. After so long hiding in the dark, they must've already planned something for them to stop hiding and came back to the world. After all, they were the ones who started the war. It wouldn't take much for them to think of starting another war.

"You should be proud you did something useful for once in your life. Now... how should I kill you? "I quipped, then squatted down, "Tell me, and I will follow your wish. Think of it as your last gift."

"As fast as possible," he answered.

"As you wish," a smile appeared on my face when I stood up, cracking my knuckles to prepare myself. If he wanted something fast, then the easiest way to do that was to rip off his ċhėst and took his heart out. He would be killed in the same way as to how he killed my people. How ironic.

"Any last words?" I asked before taking his last breath away.

He grumbled in annoyance, but answered, "Keep your promise."

"I made no promise, Leonard," his eyes went wide to my reply, but I gave him no time to retort back. I held no intention of killing his son, but I didn't want him to leave with ease.

In one swift movement, my hand pierced through his ċhėst, tearing his heart off his body. With that, his time finally ended. Leonard sat still while blood oozed out of his ċhėst. The man sat there lifelessly, his eyes were still wide opened. I could feel his heart in my hand slowly paced down its beatings, and soon, the beat was no more. I clenched my fist, crushing the object inside, "Farewell."

"What a lovely sight," Kiel clapped his hands, very pleased after some time standing quietly behind me to watch the whole scene unfold. There was actually no need for him to be here, but the man was very eager to tag along. "Here," he offered me a kerchief.

"Let's go back," I sighed, taking the kerchief to wipe the blood off my hand. I walked out of the room, but Kiel stopped me from leaving.

"Wait," he interjected, pulling something out of his back pocket, "You see, I just got this gun today and I am thinking of trying it out here," he showed the gun in his hand, raising it to the air, "You won't mind it, will you?"

"Why would I?" I shrugged, "Do as you please."

He smiled after receiving my permission. He was asking because his target was my kind, but there was no need for permission to harm a dead man.

Kiel pointed his gun at the lifeless Leonard, aiming for his head. A second passed, and a loud bang boomed throughout the room. The bullet went straight into his forehead, and soon, the skin around it turned red due to the burn. It must be a silver bullet.

"I see it works quite well," he nodded his head, admiring the gun in his hand.

I stared at Leonard's remains, watching him grow paler and paler as more time went by. I didn't feel any remorse, rather, I hoped that he will rot in hell—for as long as an eternity.

"Quite well, indeed."