Chapter 50
Killian’s POV
The majestic hall brimmed with splendor and noise–a spectacle befitting only kings and their closest confidants. Chandeliers adorned with crystals hung above, scattering light across the room in dazzling patterns. Along the walls, banquet tables overflowed with silver platters of sumptuous feasts, golden goblets filled with the finest wine, and ornate decorations that flaunted extravagance. This was a display of dominance–and wealth- as it had always been in such gatherings.
I navigated through the sea of nobles, monarchs, and commanders, donning my mask of practiced politeness as effortlessly as one wears a crown. Polite laughter escaped my lips at the appropriate moments, my hands extended in greetings to those I could crush with a mere flick of my claws. It was a game–one I had long since mastered.
The conversation followed a familiar script at first. Discussions of alliances, trade routes, border skirmishes–the mundane affairs that kept kingdoms afloat and their rulers restless at night. I allowed them to ramble, nodding at the right intervals, offering my insights when necessary. The champagne in my grasp remained largely untouched; I had little interest in its contents and no intention of reliving past miscalculations
The fool who once thought they could poison me.
Beta Leonidas leaned in, his voice a low murmur in my ear.
“It is safe, Your Majesty,”
Of course, it was. But that didn’t mean I had any desire to drink it. Acknowledging Beta’s diligence, I gave him a brief pat on the shoulder before dismissing him to enjoy his evening.
The idle chatter nearly lulled me into boredom. Dull, uninspired–nothing remotely engaging or clever enough to hold my attention. Until the air around me shifted. The tone of conversation in my circle changed. And I sensed it instantly, the way a predator senses the presence of prey.
“Have you heard about the Luna from the Ravenhold Pack?”
My hand stilled, the gentle swirl of champagne forgotten. My senses sharpened the moment those words reached my ears–Luna and Ravenhold Pack
One of the kings posed the question, a knowing smirk stretching across his face. Another joined in, his tone laced with amusement.
“Ruby Lucienne, wasn’t it! The one married to that fool, Alpha Dominic?
“That’s the one!” someone else chimed in.
“Hm. what about her?
“Oh, don’t pretend to be clueless. We all have the same thoughts -the same intentions–when it comes to that woman.”
My fingers trembled slightly before I could stop them. The conversation continued, oblivious to the danger they were inviting upon
Another voice cut in, “She’s quite the woman, or so I’ve heard. Sharp–minded, too. A shame she’s tied to a crumbling pack”
themselves.
A third man chuckled. “I’ve heard rumors that their marriage is less than harmonious. If that’s true, she may not remain bound to him for much longer.”
“Please, everyone knows it. Have you already forgotten Dominic’s wedding to Luna’s own sister?”
“Oh, that’s right! I almost forgot alyout that!”
Another one scoffed, putting has chest. “Perhaps I should make my move. She and i have always had rather pleasant conversations at charity events in the capital.”
“What!! Since when-
My grip tightened around the delicate stem of my glass. Their laughter clawed at my nerves, each sound grating like steel against stone. One of my claws had already slipped free, hching for camage
“A woman like that” the first king mused, swirling his champagne lazily, “deserves a real man. Someone who knows how to appreciate her beauty,
her mind
“Like me, of course Hahaha.”
Vile creatures. I wanted nothing more than to tear them apart, to rip their throats open and watch their blood stain the marble floors. But 1
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Chapter 50
couldn’t. These men–repulsive as they were–were valuable to me. Their alliances fortified my kingdom, their wealth fed my empire. Killing them here would be a loss I couldn’t afford.
So I took my leave, offering some half–hearted excuse about needing air. I felt their eyes on my back as I walked away, their laughter trailing after me like a curse I couldn’t shake.
Once outside, I let my mask slip. The crisp night air brushed against my face, but it did little to cool the fire raging inside me. My chest rose and fell with the weight of barely contained fury, my claws aching to shred something–anything. I wanted to hurl the champagne glass in my grip against the stone wall, to watch it shatter into a thousand useless fragments. I wanted to storm back into duar wretdied ballroom and burn it to the ground. The way they spoke about her—as if she were a mere prize to be claimed–sent my blood into a furious boil.
That woman was mine. My puppet Forever.
They had no right. None.
A soft voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Your Majesty”
I turned to find a woman approaching, bathed in silver moonlight. Jessica Ramorez, princess of the southern Arichade Kingdom
Her beauty was undeniable long, flowing black hair that gleamed like silk, dark almond–shaped eyes that danced with mischief, and lips painted a deep, sultry red, standing in sharp contrast to her flawless porcelain skin. She wore an emerald green gown that dipped scandalously low, its fabric clinging to every curve like a whispered temptation. She moved with the grace of a woman who knew exactly how to wield her beauty.
She stopped just a few feet away, her lips curving into a knowing smirk.
“You seem… unsettled. Do you need company!”
Disgust curled in my stomach, though 1 kept my expression unreadable, Jessica was just like her father–sharp, manipulative, always seeking an advantage. And tonight, it seemed, she had set her sights on me.
How dare she.
“Thank you, Princess Jessica. But no–rehim to your place.”
Instead of obeying, she only grew bolder, stepping closer.
“You’re always so distant with me. Why?”
Even without looking, I could hear the pout in her voice.
“I’m quite the charming companion, I promise,” she sighed dramatically, her warmth brushing too close for comfort. It made my skin crawl. I loathed it
don’t you ever feel – Jonely?”
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