Andrew, as annoying as he was, dragged a chair up to the front of my desk and sat with his chin resting on his palms, beaming as if he had just found a treasure.
"So, how far have you go with—"
I tossed a crumpled piece of paper into his face, trying to shut him up, but he quickly dodged it. After Violet left the room in a hurry, the mischievous grin on Andrew's face only grew wider. He was very eager to learn more about the situation.
"Shut up, Andrew."
"Oh, please! Isn't this what friends are for?" He wailed. "I'm sure something must have happened in Gordom, no? The last time I saw you, you weren't this chummy with each other."
We had indeed gotten a lot closer throughout the course of our time together, and it was evident that Violet had finally opened up her heart to me. She seemed to be expressing more of her emotions to me, and she was even responding to my advances.
At first, I had to bribe her with gold coins to have her hold my hand, but now it is simply so natural for us to hold hands without me losing my money. Perhaps she has gotten a lot more conscious of my presence, which is why she often gets flustered when I get closer to her.
Every time I teased her, her cheeks would turn as red as cherries, and it was so amusing to see. Now I couldn't go a day without teasing her since she was just so adorable. I would often find myself asking about how can someone be this adorable? Even thinking about her would make me smile like a fool.
Perhaps—I could finally mark her mine.
There is something called a mate bond between mates. In the case of werewolves, they will immediately feel a strong attraction towards their mates when they first find them. They'd become so enamored with each other that even their scents and touches were enough to drive them insane—which was true for me. But as Violet was not a werewolf, she didn't feel any of them. I was the only one who felt them.
There are two steps to complete a mate bond. The first would be the markings, and the second would be the consummation. When a werewolf marks their mate, they can feel each other's emotions, which will only grow stronger once the bond is complete.
Werewolves would usually mark their mates as soon as they found them, but only if they shared the same feelings. As there was a risk of rejection between mates, they needed each other's consent before forming a mate bond. Once a werewolf marked their mates, other werewolves would know that they belonged to each other.
As Violet was not a werewolf, our relationship would be like that of a normal human relationship. She wouldn't instantly feel attracted to me as to how werewolves usually are to their mates, and it was fine for me. I was willing to give her some time to get used to my presence and for her to develop a mutual affection for me. I was not in a hurry, as I wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible with me. I didn't want to force my feelings on her.
Will she let me? Perhaps I should find the time to explain all this to her.
"Anyway, do you remember Leonard's son?" Andrew cleared his throat, pulling me from my thoughts. He seemed to have given up attempting to persuade me to share my progress with Violet, knowing very well that I wouldn't let him have his fun.
"What's with him?"
"His name is Leomord, in case you didn't know. Emma agreed to look after him," he said as he stood up to stretch his muscles. "The kid is quite a hassle, though."
Emma? That old hag? That's quite a surprise. I didn't expect her to be the one who agreed to look after him. She never showed any affection for children. She was always so grumpy with me.
"Why? Is he not doing well?" I inquired further. Despite the fact that his father had made a grave mistake, he was just a child. It would be no problem for him to grow as a part of our pack. Perhaps, unlike his father, he will grow into a great man in the future.
"Well..." he scratched his head, clearly feeling troubled. "He keeps asking for his father. Do you think we should tell him the truth?"
Wouldn't it be too harsh to tell him the truth now? He was just a kid, no older than three years old. Kids around his age would usually look up to their father, thinking that he was the greatest man in the whole world. What would happen to him if he learned that his father was not the great man he used to look up to?
Though Leonard was not a great man, it doesn't necessarily mean that he was not a great father. I could see that he cared for his son, knowing that his last wish was for me to spare his son. For now, perhaps a slightly modified truth would suffice.
"We can't hide the truth from him, but maybe we can use nicer words to explain it to him." I took a sip of my tea, thinking of the best way to tell him. "Tell him that his father went to visit his mother in heaven and that he would come and find him in his dreams. He will eventually learn the truth when he grows older."
Now that Leonard has left, all of the rogues' attacks have ceased. We can finally rest easy, knowing that there will be no more attacks on our land. Maggie's magic barrier would be unnecessary, and the pack members would not be required to participate in the future training if they did not wish to follow it any longer.
Now that the rogues' issues had been resolved, all that remained was the witch. If Violet was really a witch, would it be possible if Greta knew about this too? The only way to confirm the truth was to find another witch and have them see whether or not Violet was truly one of them.
We could go to the White Church and have Violet examined by one of the witches there, but if Violet is found to be a white witch, she will be forced to stay with them. But if she turned out to be a black witch, those people wouldn't hesitate to drag her to the stake. It was far too dangerous to do that.
The White Church was a human-run church that only existed in Wonsvile and was used to keep the white witches under control. Everything there was carried out according to God's plan—as they said—and I had no hand in this matter. Even though I was the Lord of Wonvile, I couldn't keep control of the church's doings.
Fortunately, they never did anything that could cause trouble—despite having a large following. According to them, it was not written in God's plan to have witches in this world. They said the witches borrowed their power from the demons, then brought it upon this world to create havoc.
When they first discovered the two kinds of witches, black and white, they also discovered how the white witches' powers could be of tremendous ȧssistance to humanity. White witches could protect them from black magic through purification—though it was limited—and they could also perform healing magic that would be extremely beneficial to the doctors.
Knowing so, those humans built the White Church for the white witches to live in, providing them with everything they needed, but under the circumstances, those white witches would offer them their services.
White witches can't use their magic to harm others, so even if they wanted to, they couldn't protect themselves. This gave them no choice but to agree, as they had no place to call home and also given the fact that they were small in number. Living in the church would give them protection from people's dread, but at the same time, it would take their freedom away.
I glanced at both Andrew and Jack, seeing how they were now helping me with the mountains of paperwork in this office, which was their initial reason for coming here. Should I tell them about Violet? After all, they are two of my most trusted people.
"I met Maggie today while Violet and I were out on a walk," I said to the two men, quickly receiving a response from the nosy Andrew. Jack remained quiet—as to how he'd always been—but his ears were trained on me.
"Don't you think she's gained some weight? I bet she had too much fun cooking all those rats in her house." He wrinkled his nose.
"I wish she'd cook you as well," Jack murmured, his gaze still fixed on the paper.
"I'm way too handsome to be a witch's meal, Jack," Andrew replied, smiling. "But if it's you, I think it's quite possible that Maggie would love to—"
"As I'm saying," I quickly intervened, not wanting these two men to quarrel like children in my office. "I met Maggie today—and apparently, she said Violet's a witch."
Hearing me, they both jerked their heads off the paper, staring at me with their eyes wide in surprise.