Chapter 113: The Witch’s Son
"My Lady!"
A tall, muscular woman burst into Tanya’s chamber, her hands gripping Tanya’s shoulders with an urgency that sent a chill through the air.
Her bright orange eyes, usually fierce and unyielding, now shone with despair. It was Cara—one of the pure-blooded panthers who worked in King Fenrir’s palace, serving Tanya as both her personal guard and her devoted lady-in-waiting.
Despite being a pure-blooded beast, Cara held no disdain for humans. In fact, her encounter with Tanya had turned indifference into admiration. The human witch’s extraordinary talents had captivated her, and Tanya’s warm, compassionate nature had forged a bond Cara hadn’t anticipated.
Serving Tanya wasn’t just a duty—it was a privilege. And it was that very sense of loyalty that now brought Cara to Tanya’s room in the dead of night, fully dressed and prepared to act.
"What is going on, Cara? Is something the matter?"
Still groggy from sleep, Tanya rubbed her heavy eyelids, trying to make sense of Cara’s distress. But the panther woman had no time for explanations. She darted toward the closet, yanking garments from their hangers and hurriedly stuffing them into a canvas bag.
"There is no time, My Lady!" Cara exclaimed, her voice filled with fear. "We must leave immediately. I must take you to safety!"
"Safety?" Tanya’s sleep-fogged mind snapped into sharp clarity. She sat up straight, her pulse quickening. "Did something happen? Are we under attack?"
Cara paused mid-motion, her shoulders heaving as she drew in a deep breath. Slowly, she turned to face Tanya. Despite her imposing, muscular frame and the intricate black tattoos that adorned her tanned skin, the look in her orange eyes made her seem heartbreakingly vulnerable.
"King Fenrir... he’s going to kill you. He has sent assassins, and they are already on their way here."