Page 64 of Rescued By the Beast
"Today, I failed."
My breath catches.
"I couldn't find out who's behind the evil energy. I underestimated the protection. As soon as we found the grimoire, everything exploded. By the time the team arrived, the book was gone. And worst of all..." His hand squeezes my skin lightly. "I wasn't quick enough to protect Viklaus. He was hurt and lost control."
His heart races under my ear. I rub against him, trying to comfort him.
Mark carries the weight of us all on his shoulders.
His heart is noble, loyal, and fair.
The Beast only becomes a monster to those who threaten his community.
And to those who dare to betray him...
Chapter 22
Mark
The air inside the meeting room is heavy. I cross my arms over my chest as Ted speaks, his expression grim.
"Viklaus remains under observation. He has not yet fully regained his rationality. The thirst continues...
We are keeping him on the lower level of the company, locked up and isolated. The vervain potion is administered regularly, and he has been receiving animal blood. The ideal would be to feed him human blood again, gradually decreasing the amount, but that would mean going against his will. If we did that and he regained consciousness, he would not forgive us.
I exhale deeply, rubbing my face with my hands.
Damn that grimoire.
Before I can say anything, the door opens and my assistant appears.
"Balthazar has arrived, sir."
"Let him in."
The wizard enters the room, his long black robe fluttering behind him.
"I don't have good news," he says as soon as he sees us, pressing his thin lips together.
I growl, clenching my hands into fists to control the Beast.
"Grimoires are not common objects. They are passed down from generation to generation or acquired through pacts with demons." He rubs his chin. "The emblem you described to me yesterday... It didn't seem familiar. Normally, each witch family has its own symbol, a unique mark. And in my research, I found nothing like it."
"Someone must know where this thing came from," I grumble, frustrated.
He tilts his head, assessing me.
"The grimoire probably comes from a recent pact with a demon. Only those who have made a pact with him can recognise the symbol." He scratches his grey beard thoughtfully. "Since we don't know the name to invoke him, we can try using the symbol. But pacts require sacrifices, and I will not sacrifice myself for this. However..."
"What?"
"The Elder may know. She has made pacts with many throughout her life and has vast knowledge."
The Elder is a reclusive witch who lives in one of the forests, and her hut is surrounded by spells and illusions. Those who manage to find her still pay dearly for her services.
"They say the Old Woman charges a high price. How much will it cost us?
"The rumours are true, but they don't mention money. The Old Woman demands priceless things."
