Royal Blood Obsession

Tattoos

"I have warned you before... For a moment, I lost control over him," a man around fifty years old, adorned with a garland of human skulls and a red mark on his head, spoke cautionary words to the king. The man wore pants made of real animal skin and possessed sharp eyebrows that accentuated his stern expression.

"I don't care... As long as we are controlling him, it's perfect for me," the king responded, a devilish smile playing on his face, signaling his perceived success. Seated on his throne in an empty hall, with only his guards and the saint present, the king eagerly awaited the arrival of the werewolf.

"It's dangerous to handle... I fear that if he somehow frees himself from our control, we will be doomed," the saint expressed his concern. He pondered the potential consequences, well aware that while their control over the werewolf seemed intact, any lapse could spell disaster for them all.

"He saved my blood from those filthy people... I care about this only... And your coins have already served your family," the king remarked to the saint as he swiftly exited the dark room. The saint continued chanting words to maintain control over the inhuman being sent to protect the royal blood.

"He is coming here," another saint informed, their eyes still closed, foreseeing the arrival of the inhuman creature.

The werewolf entered the palace from the backside to avoid detection, as instructed by the saint. Carrying the unconscious prince on his back, the werewolf entered the hall and gently laid the prince's body on the ground. Upon sighting the king, the werewolf felt a surge of conflicting emotions but forced to restrain himself from attacking. Controlled by an unseen force, the werewolf found himself kneeling before the king.

"Until my only son returns in good condition, you will take his place to show the people that God never gets stitches, never gets hurt... Understand?" the king ordered the werewolf, maintaining a smirking expression as he observed the creature kneel before him. The werewolf nodded in acknowledgment, standing up to display a sign of respect to the king.

"You have the advantage, creature, because you bear the prince's face. You are no longer a mere wolf. We've bestowed supernatural powers upon you. You are not quite human either," the king stated to the werewolf with a serious expression. "You are a werewolf by the means of our black magic. We have made you a god of the wolf, a unique existence. You should be grateful for what we've granted you," the king chuckled, patting the werewolf's head as it stood before him.

"However, you must do as we say. Fail to comply, and you'll witness consequences beyond your wildest imagination," the king warned, glaring into the werewolf's eyes, emphasizing the importance of obedience. The werewolf nodded, returning to its human form, its body radiating with power and strength, as if it were a warrior ready for battle.

"I'm impressed with how closely your facial features resemble those of my son... except for your eyes," the king chuckled as he carefully examined the werewolf's face. "But who cares about your eyes, as no one dares to look into the prince's eyes other than the royals," the king laughed, his words carrying a weight that hinted at dark secrets. "You'd better wear his clothes when I ask a slave to bring them here. Let him show you where you have to stay for the next few days," the king ordered the werewolf, who understood every word.