The Devil's Cursed Witch

The powerful Divine Eagle emerged from the dark waters of that vast river, causing a loud splashing sound as if another explosion had occurred on the surface.

As soon as the water settled back on the river, Morpheus could be seen flying steadily in the air above the river, his majestic golden wings and their seemingly metallic feathers spread to their fullest, flinging all the water droplets away, leaving not just wings but the rest of his body dry.

By the time he eyed the destroyed part of the mountain, Morpheus looked as if he never touched the water in the first place.

His golden orbs stared at the trees ahead; they were still burning because one distressed dragon could not control himself. Maybe it was by pure luck–or that reckless dragon had a little bit of sanity left–but this part of the forest was one far from any of the cities or settlements, thus, only the wild animals should have been affected by his rampage.

Morpheus had to use his powers once again to put off the forest fire, or else, it would only spread and cause more harm.

He closed his eyes as his body emitted an invisible force. As if in response, his golden wings radiated bright light. He didn’t look like the usual Morpheus, but someone totally different.

The water in the river started to swirl and a whirlpool was soon formed due to his powers. In a blink of an eye, a small tornado–more precisely, a waterspout had risen from the river following the movements of Morpheus, his spread hands controlling the direction of the waterspout._.

The moment he clenched his fists, the water above the burning trees broke into a shower, putting out that ferocious fire in a manner of seconds.

Morpheus had a satisfied smirk on his lips as he swiftly cleaned up the mess that Dragon started, a welcomed card he could use against him once he sobered up. Afterwards, he looked down at the river as if his gaze could pierce through that dark waters whose surface reflected nothing but the moonlit sky.

His sharp eyes could see the bottom of the river, where a Black Dragon lay with his eyes closed.

‘You deserve to not come out there till eternity,’ he could not help but think.

Morpheus flapped his wings and headed towards the destroyed part of the mountain. He landed on the muddy ground as his sharp hearing sense caught a certain sound.

Following the sound, he walked towards a fallen tree which was hiding a small nest. Morpheus picked that nest up and observed the baby birds inside. Fortunately, they looked fine except for being drenched in water as the nest was within the hole inside the trunk of the fallen tree.

“That brainless dragon won’t care for wild creatures like you, but I do.” He caressed those baby birds and carried them away. Just like that, he found a few more nests and put them on the trees near the destroyed forest.

Their parents must have flown away after sensing danger, but the babies could not fly. At least this way, once the adult birds returned, they would be able to find their children. Whether they remain or build new nests elsewhere, that was no longer his concern.

It took some time for Morpheus to take care of things. However, he by himself could not do everything. He would perhaps need to call out the Forest Fae or the Wood Elves to help rebuild this part of the forest, or else it would take decades for the plants and trees to regrow on their own.

After thinking for a while, he pulled out a small wooden ornament that hung to his short pants on one side of his waist. He put one end of it on his lips and blew it. It was a mystical item, a whistle that could be used to summon anyone within its range with the help of the wind.

It didn’t make a sound, but soon, small green orbs of light came to surround him. They were the Forest Fae, sprites who had powers to control plants. They had consciousness but were not capable of communication, similar to the tree spirits in Ronan. With their help, trees were regrown in a manner of hours.

Even before the break of dawn, birds came flying back to settle on the trees. With that part of the mountain fixed, the creatures and small animals residing there could come back and live like usual.

Giving out a satisfactory sigh, Morpheus turned his attention back to the silent river.

“That Dragon always creates a mess, and here I am, having to take care of it once more. When will he stop doing this?”

As Morpheus muttered his dissatisfaction to himself, a black-haired man with a chiselled body rose out of the water. As he walked towards the riverbank, More of his bare body continued to come into view. He was drenched from head to toe, from his hair as black as the night, to his handsome face, long neck, strong shoulders, down to the muscular chest with a Black Dragon tattoo on it and his toned abdomen. Even the short hide wrapped around his waist was drenched, continuing to drip water along his long, perfectly toned, bare legs.

Draven’s red eyes were devoid of any emotions, looking cold and aloof, and it was difficult to understand what was going on in his mind. He soon stepped out of the water and stood barefoot on the riverbank that was covered with small colourful pebbles and white stone.

The next moment, not only did he lower himself to sit, he even lay on the pebble-filled ground with his limbs outstretched, facing that dark sky as if he was exhausted with the world. His mind was blank as he simply stared at the moon, his breaths peaceful like he had never gone crazy in the first place.

After spending so many hours underwater, he had finally gotten rid of all the wild thoughts his mind was having and the bodily needs he was craving. It was largely due to the fact he could no longer smell his little mate, and partly due to the senses Morpheus knocked back to him after he rampaged.

Just then, Morpheus landed next to him. Though he could feel the eagle’s stare, Draven ignored him and instead closed his eyes,  paying the man no attention.

Morpheus didn’t mind it–rather, he expected as such from this dimwit. He simply sat next a few feet away from Draven and turned to stare at the calm river.

“Do you know how satisfying it is to see you like this?” Morpheus started as he let out a satisfied sigh. “The great Draven Aramis, the man who cannot be affected by anything, one who has no weakness and whose arrogance knows no bounds, well, look at him–he is now in such a terrible state, losing his mind like some sort of inferior wild animal. I am thankful to be alive. It’s worth the wait to see this day finally come.”

Draven still didn’t reply to him and heard his old comrade continue, “I was wondering how you could remain sane smelling your mate being in heat and I got to witness the answer with perfect timing. Who would have guessed it would turn you savage enough to destroy a mountain just to take out your frustration?”

Morpheus had a lopsided grin as he gave the man beside him a glance, but the man remained silent as if he didn’t hear anything. That only made Morpheus smug.

“Why don’t you just mate with her? Hmm? Why don’t you–“

“She is not in heat,” Draven spoke to interrupt him, his voice still devoid of emotion.

Morpheus raised a cocky brow. “I know, it’s different for human females but…you have to face it every month. I wonder if I should have fun watching you be this distressed every month, maybe have a snack while you go about destroying trees. At this rate, I might have to permanently hire the sprites to clean up your monthly mess, or else, you will destroy all the forests in this kingdom.”

Hearing the eagle’s snide remarks, Draven once again said nothing. He simply opened his eyes to look at the sky. He knew he had to find a solution. He could not just lose control over himself, and destroying the forest was the worst way to vent out.

“Listen to me and just mate with her,” Morpheus suggested. “Anyways, I smelled her scent on you before pushing you to the river. That means–“

“Doesn’t concern you,” Draven cut him off.

Morpheus scoffed. “I am saying this for your own good. You know she smells different and it’s really intoxicating. Even I had to run away from her the moment I smelled her scent. I felt that if too would have lost control if I didn’t–“

ɴ[0)ᴠᴇʟ “You met her?” Draven asked, his red eyes glowing with growing fury as he stared at him.

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Top 5 Golden Tickets rank= Mass release.