The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans-Chapter 207: The Den of The Priestess

Kieran’s POV

I didn’t know how long I’d been running, only that every step felt heavier than the last. Lorraine’s weight in my arms wasn’t the problem, I’d carry her for a thousand lifetimes if I had to. It was the silence around us. The unnatural, suffocating stillness of this land.... no one ever dared to come this close to the shunned priestess abode, even standing a mile close to her house was said to bring severe bad luck.

But finally, beyond the crooked trees and the fog that seemed determined to swallow everything whole, I saw it.

The shunned priestess’ house.

Liandrin’s house.

That is, if it could still be called a house.

A one-story structure hunched in the shadows, eaten alive by time and vines. The walls were chipped, the roof sagging, and weeds grew tall enough to swallow the front steps. The door, if one could call the half broken slab of wood a door, hung wide open. No sound. No movement. No hint of life.

Just that eerie pull in my chest.... the only thing telling me this wasn’t a mistake.

"This is it," I whispered, mostly to myself. Lorraine didn’t stir in my arms. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t breathed differently. My heart clenched, and I tightened my arms around her.

I stepped toward the open door and hesitated at the threshold. The air inside was different, thick, heavy, vibrating with power I couldn’t understand.

Still, I walked in.

"Hello?" My voice echoed off the dim, empty living room. Shadows pooled everywhere, shifting like they were alive. The walls were lined with shelves of books, herbs, jars containing things I didn’t want to identify. It smelled of dust, smoke, and something metallic.

"Liandrin?" I called again. "It’s Kieran Valerius Hunter. I...."

The house was eerily silent still

"I’m sorry for barging into your home like this," I said carefully. "But I promise you, I mean no...."

A sharp, chilling cackle erupted through the house.

I froze.

The sound bounced off the walls, slithering down the back of my neck. Then... footsteps creaked from above, slow and mocking. A figure emerged at the top of the stairs.

She descended one step at a time.

Liandrin.

I had heard the stories, but nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared me for her.

She wasn’t exactly old, yet she looked like someone who had lived ten lifetimes of suffering. Her long white hair hung in tangled, filthy strands around her gaunt face. Her skin was stretched thin over sharp bones, marked by bruises, burns, and strange symbols. One eye was milky white, the other a burning red. Her nails were long and cracked, her posture crooked, her presence suffocating.

And yet... beneath the ruin of her appearance, she radiated power. Heavy, ancient, volatile.

"You mean no harm?" she repeated as she reached the bottom of the stairs, her grin revealing missing teeth. She laughed again. "Boy, you can’t harm me even if you tried."

She stepped closer. I instinctively held Lorraine tighter.

"Unlike the rest of Lycan territory," she said, her voice rasping like stone, "this is my house. And in my house..." She circled me slowly, her cold presence brushing against my skin like icy fingers. "I am the predator. And whoever comes in..."

She leaned close to my ear.

"...is prey."

Her gaze suddenly snapped to my face, and it was filled with pure hatred.

"You," she hissed. "You are a royal Lycan."

"Yes, but...."

Before the sentence left my mouth, she flicked her wrist.

Her magic slammed into me.

Invisible chains clamped around my wrists and ankles, wrenching my arms apart. Lorraine slipped from my grip and hit the floor with a sickening thud.

"No!" My voice tore out of me as my eyes bled into crimson. I struggled against the chains, muscles straining, veins bulging, but they held fast, stronger than iron, stronger than silver.

Liandrin’s face twisted with hate.

"I know your kind," she spat. "And I swore to kill every last one of you. I don’t know if you came here because you have a death wish, but I promise you, you won’t leave alive. It’s been a while since I’ve had a barbeque made from the heart of a royal Lycan."

She lifted her hand as if preparing to tear me apart.

Every instinct in me roared to lunge at her, to rip her head off her shoulders, to shred anyone who touched Lorraine.

But then.... my gaze fell to her. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Her body lying motionless on the floor.

Her chest barely rising.

Her skin far too cold.

And the rage inside me broke, leaving something far more painful in its place.

I forced my eyes back to normal and stopped struggling.

"You can do whatever you want with me, Liandrin," I said, my voice low. "I don’t care."

She paused.

"I didn’t come here for myself. I came for her." I nodded toward Lorraine’s limp form. "Her name is Lorraine Anderson. She’s not a royal Lycan. She’s not even a Lycan at all. Shes... she’s a feral. And she’s not waking up."

Liandrin blinked, confusion flickering across her face.

"We crossed the Old Moon bridge," I continued. "Then she collapsed and hasn’t moved since. You can kill me. Tear me apart. Burn me alive. I don’t care. Just..." My throat tightened. "Save her. Please."

A desperate whisper slipped out before I could stop it.

"She can’t die. I can’t lose her too. So please, save her."

For a long moment, Liandrin said nothing. Her gaze moved back and forth between me and Lorraine, her expression shifting from hatred... to something like intrigue. Or disbelief.

Then she stepped closer to Lorraine.

"You...." she whispered, eyes widening. "...are in love with her."

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t have to.

Her lips parted in shock. "You two... you’re the ones the prophecy spoke about."

My breath hitched. "What prophecy?"

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she paced back and forth, muttering to herself, her hair whipping around her face like wild threads of silver.

"I never thought I would see the day," she exhaled. "I thought the prophecy would never come to pass, I thought that prophecy died. And my hope died with it. But you...." She pointed at me with a shaking hand. "A royal Lycan willing to give up his life for a feral."

She pointed to Lorraine.

"And a feral who would give hers for you."

Her gaze sharpened.

"The prophecy of the end," she whispered. "The prophecy that marks the beginning of the fall... and the rise. The prophecy that will shatter the four councils of the kingdom."

I swallowed hard, heart pounding.

"Liandrin," I said. "What prophecy are you talking about?"

She slowly turned toward me.

Her eyes, one glowing white, one burning, fixed on mine.

"The prophecy that marks the beginning of the end," she said softly. "For you. For her. And for the entire kingdom."