Oak oath. Broken

WAYNE'S POV
I tried to reminisce on the things that must have happened the night before as I rested my head upon the rim of the tub, the warm, frothy water calming my nerves and urging me to relax. The scenes refused to flash in, crap! I was damn drunk when all these had happened. How could I have been so carefree to have reduced the self-esteem of my Mate to zero, which was unlikely of a gentleman.

 

            The door creaked open moments after and Elspeth walked in and crouched beside the bathe. She left me a small bottle of alabaster oil after bathing me and I slithered the content on my body, grumbling at the fact that I had to experience a punishment that was discernible in the color of my skin.

 

             After tying my towel and picking up my dirty pants, I noted that I had twice ignored the dried whitish stain, which trickled from the zipper all the way to the crotch region. I narrowed my eyes on the stain when the painful realization dawned on me. My fingers slowly scrunched up the material as my eyes stared blankly at the door.

 

            I met Elspeth unfolding a new pair of leather outfits when I got out of the bathroom, she laid the ink black pants on the bed, as well as its matching top and a pair of gloves. She turned to me, not letting our eyes meet as she offered an obeisance and turned away to leave. I proceeded to the bed, tugging off the towel and gently fixing myself into the pair of clothes.

 

            It was only when I had sat down on the bed to put on my boots that I heard a single knock on the door, “The time flies, Master Rhevelor,” came Phyllis’ voice, which accompanied a rain of knocks.

 

              The door burst open and the latter strode in with a gray rumpled material in her hand, she tossed it to me. “Put the cloak on and…” she paused as I stood up and walked to the window. She watched me trying to massage oil into my hair. “Are you not done?” she asked, shutting the door and walking to stand behind me.


             I stared at her reflection in the mirror and I did not miss the intense gaze she bestowed on my hair. I shook my head anyway.

 

             “Your handmaid is gone? She should be the one doing this.”

 

            “Mm, I sent her away,” I lied even when I knew Elspeth must have been pissed off by my presence alone. Although she was able to seal it behind a façade, I could see that she thought I only used her for my benefit and pretended not recalling anything afterwards. I wish I could, I really do.

 

            “Did she give you any trouble?” Phyllis asked; I expected her to do so. Looking at it, she deserved to know everything after all. My fingers subconsciously began to twist the strands as nervousness overwhelmed me.

 

            “She―”

 

            “I would advise you to get rid of this ridiculously long mane of yours sometime. I know you are having trouble fixing it yourself,” the witch cut in petulantly. It was obvious that she probably knew about the matter and did not want to have anything to do with it, so I let it slide.

 

            Phyllis slapped my hands down and forced me to sit before the mirror. Then she kneaded the oil into my head and clustered it into a low ponytail, bringing a few strands of hair to rest on either side of my face.

 

             “Now there you have it, an attention seeking hair,” she murmured as she moved away from me. I smiled at her through the mirror and after looking at me for a moment, the witch huffed and looked away. I smiled more.

 

            She was not the first person who seemed pissed about the color and length of my hair. It was obviously the best part of the Demon Lord’s royal dynasty. The silver and lengthy hair ran in the blood of all demon dynasties, which is why the children of demon Lords had their share of wild hairs. However, I did not think mine came from the dynasty, I probably had it from my mother who also happened to have the same hair, only that hers was naturally frizzy.

 

            It was already a wet and bright bird-whispering morning by the time we arrived at the grand hall of the tower. There was nothing much about it; just a number of French windows hanging from the vaulted ceiling to the hyacinth-tiled floor, and then the massive pillars that trailed in four rolls, dividing the hall into five parts.

 

             Ahead was a couple of steps leading to the silver throne that had a velvety red, tiger head seat and a backrest of the same design. A huge engraved picture of two werewolves, which were obviously a male and a female, hung at the wall behind it. Aside from all these were the chandeliers hanging low from the ceiling, and then the crowd of male wolves who all turned their heads to the door the moment the twin doors burst open to usher Phyllis and I in.  

 

            I superstitiously led my right hand to clutch my sword’s baldric as I tried to calm myself from the anxiety that clouded me. I knew these men were here for two things: an initiation of a new wolf and the naming of a new Alpha.

 

             I passed across the middle roll and made sure not to notice the several eyes that glared at me. I would swear with my last breath that these people did not like me and this was surely going to be another challenge to me. Thankfully, I felt I needed not to worry, as Phyllis seemed to be always there.

 

            Just as I reached the front and stood on the first step, two wolves rolled in a platter, which the body of the deceased Alpha laid, the head witch, Deveron, trailing them from behind. I sighed down and breathed into my chest, looking for the best way to comfort myself as I blinked at the ceiling. Deveron came up to me.

 

            I turned to her and caught her stare on me. My eyes squinted at the bandage wrapped around her neck and I remembered the incident that happened yesterday, could it be that something serious occurred in her Lab?

 

            “This is Oak oath,” she rejoined, and my eyes wandered to the cup she stretched out to me. I peered into its content and all I could see was a whitish, sticky substance. “It will bind you to the Fire-pall pack for as long as you stay. Drink it.”

 

            My hands moved from the baldric to receive the cup. I looked into the liquid and saw my reflection in it; the way uncertainty danced around my eyes as I contemplated this new step. I would not lie, over the days, it felt like there was some kind of force driving me to do whatever Phyllis told me. I felt too malleable to her that I immediately did all she asked as if I was some stupid, empty-headed hippo.

 

            However, now, even with my brothers’ lives at risk, I found myself stranded between the thought of accepting or declining this offer. I mean, I knew how these work; once I drink this concoction in my hand, I was certainly going to suffer the consequences of going back on my oath. There is no denial; the moon goddess would certainly come at me if I should take any action that is outside the rules of the wolves. In addition, I would never step my feet in the Shore again, never!