So far, what Keith learned from Arnold, was that every month, a curse would come and attack a deflowered witch, and it wasn''t that hard to tell.

    According to Arnold, it was the punishment for being unable to keep one''s chastity, and could even result in death from the intensity of heat and pressure converging within.

    Knowledge passed from generation to generation of witches and wizards, a certain date for the curse to occur, and only once in a blue moon would it occur to have it a few days before or later than the exact day. The rough estimation of the time in that day was rather believable and common compared to it.

    Keith had yet to experience it, ever since he had to accept this kind of request.

    Although, the main indication of the said curse was certain, regardless of its rare occurrence or phenomenon.

    If not because a date was certain, then chances were the towering waves of pheromones—an alluring, sweet, and irresistible smell—would turn out into an overflow for a witch, and thus spread near the area.

    It might be a tantalizing, galvanizing sensation, enough to numb the sense of logic and reasoning of an accursed woman''s partner, but it would be a torture to her.

    In this aspect, he realized that witches and werewolves also had another thing in common.

    Without the need of explanation what further consequences dwelled when Mystique would''ve been exposed at  such an unfortunate time would be a dire moment for Keith.

    Even then, there was a way to ease this.

    Only through the same process then would the curse end, enough to satiate the lingering problem of hers, but then again—a temporary method, and the only known one at that.

    Mystique had to live through it in her entire life, and he was tasked with such an honor and privilege, as per Arnold''s request.

    Then he fucked it up.

    After all he thought she wasn''t but an imposter, he realized his mistakes, and he wanted to patch things up even before the curse came. Even if he would''ve gotten bad treatment from then on, then it was fine for him—he deserved it.

    Before coming back to her, and after contemplating, Keith was ready to accept any punishment. He pondered this as a way for him to atone for his sins, as apologizing to her would never be enough.

    What he witnessed afore his two emerald eyes left him speechless.

    Foremost, he failed at the request of Grand Duke of Blackwell, Arnold, and out of all the people she could''ve done so would be her one and only arch-nemesis.

    The physical manifestation of horror took form in Keith as he got petrified in his stead.

    On the bed, all his eyes greeted the slender back of Mystique, with her draping slick hair now donned on her silver glowing skin.

    Athan huffed like he was out of breath, indulged, and his arms slinked through the locks of her hair before leaving a subtle caress on her. Then, face drew close to her neck with a sniff before leaving a trail of kisses to her dainty shoulders.

    Although, even in that moment, the taunt of Athan was enough to smack him back to reality.

    He gnashed his jaw when he needed to do something, at least for her. Afterwhich, he glared and if looks could kill, he was stabbed to a thousand stakes, growling, "You…"

    Mystique then flinched, and turned around; despite her face flushed beet-reed with dreamy eyes, she let out a warm smile at Keith, beckoning him with a tug from her finger.

    "Come closer," she purred, and his body went stiff and all.

    ''It has really came, in such a worst, embarassing timing,''

    Amidst it, Keith still ended up coming in, closing the door, and shuffled close to the edge of the bed—almost wide and comfortable enough to cater several people in it—and the more he tried to resist, the harder the force would pull him.

    Upon leaning close to them, he cursed inwardly how the sitaution they were in got too complicated, almost enough to overwhelm him in some way.

    "This…" He muttered, and roamed his gaze towards the tease of her curvaceous outline up to her iridescent indigo glances , then soured right away when he met the stark crimson eyes.

    "You''re finally here, were you alright? Are—" She reached out her hand all the way back, trying to caress his chiseled jaw, clearly taking her time as she stared at him. Then, she beamed a smile after a round of giggle, "Are you well already?"

    He knew, in that moment, Mystique still was at the brink of her insanity, and even after all what happened, her concern was out of the place—with him akin to utmost priority.

    After gulping hard on the hard lump that got stuck in his throat, he still answered groggily, "I''m beyond fine, My Lady." He then gave a pleasant kiss on the back of her hand. "I appreciate—your utter kindness."

    As heartwarming as it felt, it was to ocomplicated that it crushed him for another round of emotions that dawned him, but he was still in deep focusas the Crown Prince together was now with them, grabbing her closer to him than he could ever be…

    "Ah!" Mystique moaned for a little while, giggling.

    "I don''t think you''d have to put that kind of charade, isn''t that so, Violette?"

    Keith cleared his throat, trying to get rational as much as he could amidst the sticky situation he was in, saying, "I don''t think Your Highness understands the great plight that My Lady was in because of—"

    "I know…"

    The knight squinted his eyes at him, being the arrogant prince that he was, it fueled ounces of rage inside of him.

    Though, as much as he wanted to argue, Mystique muttered in a timely fashion, interrupting the tension that built up between them.

    "Now is not the time to do that, yes?" She looked at each one of them, and the force that Keith felt became stronger than it had ever been, in his entire life. "Why don''t you two show me?"