The Cursed One: Armaros

IT was an exhausting repetitive movement for Agnes as she marched back and forth in front of a large cushion of sofa her wealthy family owns.

Emphasis on wealthy, yet the said sofa was nothing more than rugged furniture that her mother cherishes so much.

She doesn’t really understand why her family still keeps such an old thing in their house. They were rich. She was an Alpha’s daughter. The eldest at that.

Her sisters, twins, two young faces with almost the same visage, on the floor leaning on the other pair of the same old cushion, were giggling at a picture they cut out from today’s village newspaper.

As Agnes peeked through the source of their lowered muttering, it was none other than a picture of a teenage man around sixteen, young yet his face was pleasing even to an adult.

Agnes has never fathomed her two sister’s obsession with beauty.

“That’s because you haven’t seen anyone that can make your eyes bulge out of their socket from their shining face,” was all they always say when she scolds the two of them for being too engrossed into such lewd things.

Back to her marching, she was incredibly nervous as to what her mother and father had to say.

They never invited her to the living room like this. And her mother’s concerned tone was far from reassuring as well.

Are they giving me another present?

But her birthday was just a week ago. And as an Alpha’s daughter, a massive celebration was held.

She was also gifted with loads of riches to lavish and spend on her clothes and other things Agnes fancied to throw money on.

She was Blue Bill pack’s spoiled and desired girl. Desired, often for her pretty face, or to exploit her money. Yet though overindulged with wealth, she was literate enough to pick out who to trust between the bunch who have pressed to lay their hands on her.

“What do you guys think Mother has to say?” she unconsciously bit the tip of her tongue due to the surging course of anxiety. The twins, Hollie with her brunette locks to the side, and Fiadh bangs dwindling on her forehead, both turned to her, gazes nonchalant.

“We do not know,” Hollie replied, shrugging, her tone simply stating that she does not really care. Expecting this, Agnes didn’t bother to stop pacing around and turn to her sibling.

“I bet it is about your lavish spending.”

Fiadh, on the other hand, made a more sensible answer which made Agnes take a slow stop to stare at her sister’s void eyes.

Fiadh stares like that to almost everyone and her family, though worried when her gaze turned like that, simply have grown familiar with it.

She was a black sheep. So much unlike the other family members, but of course, was loved all the same.

And favored more by her mother, of course.

Speaking of her mother, who was already walking down the wooden stairs of the pack house alongside her husband, the Alpha. She had a longing expression which made Agnes’ nerves pulsate even more.

“What is it, Mother? Father?” she mumbles, staring back and forth at both their faces as they sit down slowly on the sofa. Her father looks stressed, streaks of his white hair were overlapping the brown ones which he would usually comb around before moving downstairs, yet he didn’t.

Creases of something else were written on her mother’s forehead, telling her that what they will discuss is definitely not something she’s going to like.

“Sit down, dearest,” her mother’s voice, as sweet and as lulling as it was to obey, Agnes did not. She definitely cannot with their expression as dreary as a person in a funeral.

“No. Not as long as I will get to the headline of what this gathering is all about,” she aggressively replies. This was nothing like how you should talk to your parents, but Agnes was raised as a spoiled girl. So much that even manners was far from her vocabulary.

“Agnes, don’t make this harder than how it should be. Sit,” her father, Washington, massaged the bridge of his nose from her daughter’s stubbornness.

“Fine, whatever is the matter, it should be done with,” she sighed, crossing both of her arms on her chest as she slouched down the cushion of the rugged sofa. They were merely separated with a knee-high glass table with a healthy bouquet of daisies that — like the old sofa — was taken care of by her mother.

Agnes thinks that such a cheap flower should be replaced with a beautiful rich rose. Like her family. Like her.

“Honey, we think that you’re spending way too much,” the Alpha said.

The sofa felt as though it was as hot as a burning cauldron by how fast Agnes stood up from it, accompanied by her wrathful “What? You’re kidding!”

Her mother instantly takes this as a sign to nod at the twins who were still on the other sofas to evacuate back to their bedrooms.

“Agnes, dear; calm down,” her mother voices out.

“There is no way I am calming down!” as though she loathed the floor, her feet crunched down to it like a mad man.

“You are simply living a lavish life too much, Agnes,” her mother calmly speaks, her tone almost begging. The Alpha, her father, instantly hushes her wife’s plea for a peaceful conversation.

“I am the daughter of an Alpha! The Alpha of The Blue Bill Pack at that. We are merchants. Wealthy merchants, Papa!” she emphasized, her finger pointed at her chest.

Her father, though stressed, looked down as he was at a loss for words. His face was heating up at the compliments her daughter had spat. He was after all, a wealthy merchant and his efforts weren’t in vain if his own daughter had recognized through it.

Luna Layla, Agnes’ mother on the other hand, avoided her daughter’s gaze, trying to hide whatever will come out of her expression.

This was simply a confirmation that whatever they planned to tell her was all a lie. They cannot even defend what their spoiled daughter — though aggressive — was still a truthful statement.

They were rich.

A neutral and an abundant pack.

They were also kind and professional to the other packs. So there must be some other reason.

“What is it, Papa? Mama? I may have been raised with a golden — No, a diamond spoon, but I am literate enough to know that our businesses are doing well.” Agnes’ tone has finally calmed down, yet it warped into something far worse than her rage.

And that is her suspicion.

“I—it’s the money—” Alpha Washington once more blabbered until he was met by Agnes’ ice-blue orbs — and as it lives up to its color, her glare was frozen, as though it was Wonderwoman’s lasso of truth.

Before he can continue saying anything else, Luna Layla placed her wrinkling palms on her husband’s thigh, stopping her mate from lying once more.

Her mother raised her gaze, and this rumbled Agnes’ breakfast in her stomach. She suddenly wants to puke from seeing so much emotion in her mother’s eyes.

And indeed what she said next would have made Agnes run across the living room and to the bathroom to vomit her guts out.

“You’re arranged to marry someone,” her mother chimed, ringing a huge bell on Agnes’ head, leaving her speechless.

They must have taken her silence as a sign of curiosity and the desire to hear more as they continued their unbelievable statement.

“It’s a high-ranking Alpha, Agnes. You’re going to be a beautiful bride and-and they’re far richer than us, honey—” her mother was stopped when her daughter glared down at her.

“Why?” she asked, tone heavy with burning anger, yet she wants to hear her mother’s curiosity.

They’re planning to marry me off? What kind of bullcrap are they onto now?

“I am not marrying anyone,” she mumbled with finality before turning around, striding off from her parents as to not hear anymore, afraid that their statement might be true.

She almost laughed at the notion.

Her, married?

How vile.

She was still not spending enough. And she still had not explored the world.

And besides, there was another reason she cannot be married.

“Agnes!” her mother once more called onto her.

But she was determined to walk away from all the shit she was hearing from their mouths.

Perhaps I shall spend some more to wake them up and have them nag me for throwing money than telling me all this marriage crap.

Her father’s tight grip on her wrist, however, stopped her from escaping all this information. She turned around, glaring at the height of her father as well as the Alpha.

“Why, father? Why?!” she finally bursts her bullets. She had no idea why her Papa and Mama were so eager to send her off to someone she never even met.

It was clear that they were not being dragged to poverty, and this was also not an effortful prank.

“Agnes—”

“No! I want to know the reason why!” She cut off her father almost immediately. Her father closed his eyes, frustrated. No one frustrates the Alpha like this. Of course, she was exempted.

The most loved daughter.

How ironic, I thought I was his favorite. He was willing to send me off to marriage so fast.

“Our pack—” her father — no, at this moment, the man standing right in front of him isn’t his father who would yield to her pouty face as she requests for an amount that would worth a month of her allowance — no, this one looks like the man who would protect his pack. This looks like her Alpha.

The Blue Bill Pack’s strong and competent Alpha.

“Our pack is going to be conquered and attacked if we were not going to send you,” he whispered. It was agonized so much that Agnes almost obeyed.

Of course, the pack is important, but she was aware that her father would always choose his family. Which would explain that whomever they were referring to as to be her husband is a trusted person. Worthy enough to send her off to them.

That would be a noble sacrifice.

A life for a thousand.

Her life for her pack.

She’s simply going to suffer a marriage life, but they’re all going to die.

That was the weight of her refusal on this decision.

But it was at this moment that Agnes realized,She was much more selfish than she thought she was.

“No! I will never be wed! That will be over my bloody, dead body,” she shouted and turned around once more.

“Agnes, it’s fine. You’re going to live a much better life, with finer pala-mansions, shoes, you’ll wear a tiara, everything,” his father reassured.

“I shall do so when the Alpha King stops slaughtering,” she sarcastically replies, smirking at his father’s helpless expression. Her mother remained silent, knowing whatever the both of them utter, there are no more words that would push Agnes to agreement.

“Agnes, you’re marrying the Alpha K—” he was once more cut by his sharp-tongued breed.

“I shall hear no more of this crap! I do not care who’s Alpha is this! I will never marry him! Unless he’d be the King himself.” she cried, slamming the wooden door of her glamorously-decorated room.

Her parents stared at each other, bewildered at their daughter’s demand.

They have never guessed that she would be willing to be a Queen if the chance came.

Agnes slept through the night, her silver hair fuzzled, eyes draped with a soft cover, snuggled on her pet monkey, without knowing she was actually arranged to the Alpha King.

“It will be a very heavy day, Delphi. The weather is not cooperating with my mood,” Agnes bounces his right heel on the floor, sipping loudly on her morning beans of coffee at the edge of her bed.

Her monkey was on the window sill, playing with a rose bud as though it was intrigued. This left a smile on Agnes’ face with the similarity her and her cherished pet have.

Both of them are living lavishly.

The clouds were abundantly watering all the plants in the garden that are visible on Agnes’ large windows.

She didn’t have a good sleep.

And the bags under her eyes greeting her freshly in the morning were of great help to ruin her day.

She spent all night thinking over and over again as to how she will avoid the marriage at all cost, and now that she has a plan, all it needs to do is a bunch of something she most definitely has, but cannot touch.

Money.

There is no other way.

I have to run away from home. Perhaps start m