I hate this place

This massive and very intimidating worship that Malleus had so graciously provided me with- was horrendous.

"I just can't work like this," I mutter to myself as I look around me.

It's a far cry from the cozy and warm mess of a house that I had. It's much too clinical and posh. The shelves stretch on for miles with ancient tomes, jars with weird body parts floating around, and herbs that lay wilting in pots due to lack of use. It would have been a baby's equivalent of a candy shop or their mother's tit.

"It would have impressed me and made me feel at home- almost. It's much too clean."

As if it's trying too hard to impress me.

Although I would feel bad if the room was trying to impress me and I just shat all over it.

My cauldron sits in the small stove embedded into the tabletop. Like a fancy Korean Barbecue.

Thin purple mist escaped the black pot as the mist curled through the air and wafted around the room. It looked spooky but it was just a large incense.

It set the vibe.

I sigh and start at the vial in front of me. It sits atop a cold metal table with a silver platter in front of me.

Shadowroot.

This isn't supposed to affect me. I'm immune to it. But why is just looking at it making me feel uncomfy? That's saying something considering I regularly deal with ingredients that turn grown men into frogs that even Princess Tiana wouldn't smooch.

One vial sits completely intact and the other I've managed to pop open to let the small root drop onto the tray. It's black and gnarled as if someone yanked the thing out of a disturbed botanist's nightmare.

This looks like dangerous stuff. I know it's nasty for werewolves such as Kier. Of course, the best option to handle this shit was me. Not like I have better things to do with my time. Like getting it on with my mate.

Witch or not, a shiver still runs up my spine at the thought of the liquid touching my skin. Clearly, there's something foul going on here since the King's Guards tried and succeeded in getting their hands on this. I need to figure all this out, and fast.

Taking a deep breath, I flip over a huge ancient tome and finger through the yellowing pages. My eyes flicker for anything that could be a potential clue. The scratchy paper sends my senses into an overload and I have to struggle to focus.

Hours go by and the purple mist is cloying in the air. The vapor grows thicker as the cauldron bubbles away, trying to strip the root to its bare essence. Maybe if I enhance my senses just a tad, I could pick up on any magical residues left by whoever had tampered with it recently.

Tracing the rough paper, I tap at a specific drawing with what looks similar to the shadow root, almost like ginseng but ten times more ugly and gnarled just like my mother's fingers.

It's what she deserves after she would brush my hair and try to yank my head off of my shoulders in the process.

Clearing my throat, I try to focus on deciphering the spell when the door creaks open. My heart nearly jumps out of my throat and splatters onto the nice shiny tray at the sudden interruption.

With a hand to my chest, I spin around with a startled yowl.

Kier stands in the doorway, silent like an assassin in the night. He's brooding and intimidating as usual. His keen eyes rack across the room and finally settle on me. His cloak swishes around him, settling into him as if it were trying to appease its master from the dreary wind.

"Do you have a habit of sneaking up on people?" I snap although my tone comes out more embarrassed rather than showing actual anger.

I don't like being caught off guard but Kier doesn't seem to want to give me any reprieve regarding it.

"I did not realise I was sneaking up on you or anyone. I came to enquire into any assistance that you might need."

Kier's words would have taken me by surprise if not for the way his voice lies as flat as ever. The man doesn't even wait but enters into the lab.

It would have been an insult if anyone walked into my little brewing kitchen with as little regard as Kier has.

Although I'd probably lick the ground after he walked back out.

"Assistance? You want to assist me?" I echo.

Why is Kier being so friendly? This is his equivalent of shitting out sprinkles and asking me if I'd like to accompany him to a magical land that only the two of us are aware of.

The man doesn't help anyone unless it's the King or his sister.

"What would you assist me with per se? Glaring at the root till it confesses the whole plan?"

Kier narrows his eyes and my own nearly bulge out of my head as I see his lip twitch a fraction of an inch.

"Decoding the papers hasn't been productive. Maybe I could be of more use here."

I gawk at Kier and his offering of help.

Maybe the fumes of the shadow root have gotten to my brain and I'm conjuring all this up in my head.

That has to be it.

Although if the root were to conjure up fantasies...it'd be less talking and more clothes flying off.

Well. I'm not about to turn down any help. Not when it involves my mate being in close proximity to me.

"Mm. I could use some help with this ritual I'm about to start on. It's a bit risky so you'll need to be on guard. Are you up for it?"

Kier steps closer to the table as he takes in the fragments of the root on the tray and the cliche bubbling cauldron.

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't 'up' for it."

I keenly notice how Kier gives the shadow root a wide berth. The man clearly isn't too interested in stepping close to the poisonous plant.

"Perfect. I'll use the potion to extract that Shadow root's essence. If it goes according to plan. It could heighten my senses enough for me to trace any slight traces of magic left on it. That could lead me to who acquired it. However, things could go left. Be warned."

Kier seems unsure but his usual mask flips back on as his grey eyes focus on mine.

"What do you need me to do?"

His resolute tone has me grinning widely at him.

"You just need to stay close. If anything goes wrong, you'll have to pull me out of the spell. Don't be afraid to get too close. I won't mind."

As I totter around the laboratory gathering the ingredients for the ritual, I can feel Kier's eyes following my every movement. His silence fills the air and sends my already tense nerves skyrocketing.

"You stated this could go wrong. How?"

I still at Kier's questions before shaking my head as I make my way back to where I'll be performing the ritual. It's basically me chugging the vial after I chew down on a few plants to dull any pain that could potentially leave me in a catatonic state.

Easy. Fun.

"There are a few things that could happen. I remain in a coma-like state till someone with enough skill can pull me out of it. I could die but that's not the most horrible. Worst case scenario, I could have a horrendous side effect towards the Witches Bell which includes crabs and ever growing pubic hair."

Kier takes my words into consideration and just as I pick the vial up after munching on some-not so nice- plants before he interrupts.

"This is too dangerous."

Half a petal falls out of my mouth as I stare in shock at the man.

Huh?

Is this wolf man actually showing concern?

"There has to be another way."

I blink once, twice, thrice.

No. It's still Kier.

"There isn't. The shadow root is the only viable connection we have to this. If I don't go through with this, we could lose any and every hope of uncovering them."

My hand pauses over the vial of the potion. This is risky. He's right. It's probably one of the most risky things I've ever attempted before. But I don't have any other option.

I need to prove myself to the Kingdom and to my mate.

If I end up severely injured in the plight of it... well, at least I might be enough for the man who can't even see through his self-induced haze.

"You don't know what this could do to you. What if whatever you said happens?" His voice is sharper now, edged with something that sounds like animosity but I somehow know it's not directed at me.

"I know. But we don't have a choice-"

"This isn't a game. You don't have to do this."

I sigh and grab the vial in my hand.

"All the werewolves could die because of this. I'm the only witch that can deal with it. I'll be fine."

Kier stares at the vial almost as if he truly would like to glare at it till it confesses.

"Just... be careful, Althea."

The words sound foreign coming from him. Almost as if they weren't meant to be said out loud.

"I will."

The two of us share a long gaze. Kier's eyes flit over every feature on my face and I have to hold myself back from launching myself at him.

Turning back to the task at hand, I brace myself before raising the vial and pouring it over the root. I watch as it sizzles and fizzles as the mist turns thick and heavy. Grabbing another vial, this one made of crystal, I dip it into the now thick black liquid that's in contact with the root. I stare at it for a second before tipping its contents down my throat.

The taste is like pure acid flowing down my throat. I gag and have to force myself not to throw it back up.

Maybe it's just the taste's that bad and not-

Pure fire.

It's like molten metal coursing through my veins and branding itself into every part of me. The pain is intense and I can feel myself falling back. My vision blurs but instead of going black, the world around me shifts.

Colours grow vivid and shadows plunge deeper. Whispers and groans of agony tickle my ears and I can feel a soft breeze against the faint hair on my body.

My eyes roll into the back of my head and I can physically feel my brain trying to grab onto fragments of reality. A tingling sensation erupts as the fire in my veins die down. Images flit through my brain. Faint. Fleeting. Mere glimpses of every person that had touched the root. Their faces distorted like something out of a haunted museum. Blurred and disfigured by black magic.

A figure. Cloak.

Kier pops into my head and it's as if the shadow root loses its effect as the fragments of images slip away. I screw my eyes shut and dispel off any thoughts of my mates, desperately clinging onto any sign of other cloaked figures.

Trees and a large mill pop into my head. A cloaked figure with their face obscured but their aura dark and horrifying. He's clearly a member of the King's Guard. Someone high ranking since a badge gleams in the moonlight.

I can't focus entirely as I try to push past the shroud of magic that hides his identity.

The mist begins to whirl violently around me and the shadows grow darker. The whispers in my ear start turning into screams, begging me to let them live. I can feel them all closing in on me, wrapping around my mind and trying to pull me under.

Trying to get me to join them.

Panic surges through me and I thrash violently against imaginative restraints.

I'm losing control.

----------

AN: What TV show or movie would you like to live in? Who would you want to be? An original character or just in the world itself?

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