Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 73

**Chapter 73**

Nestled against the plush pillows, I propped myself up on one elbow, my eyes locked onto Keane with an intensity that belied my fragile state. There was an unmistakable weight to his presence today, a seriousness that sent a ripple of unease through me. His brow was furrowed in thought, and I couldn’t help but notice the tension lining his jaw, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor. When he uttered the words “temporary trauma,” I felt an unsettling chill creep down my spine, as if the phrase was a harbinger of something far more sinister.

“Temporary trauma?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “That sounds suspiciously vague. Like saying, ‘Oops, someone tripped and spilled soup on you, but don’t fret—you’ll be just fine.’”

Keane shook his head slowly, his expression unwavering and grave. “No, Roana. It’s much more serious than that. This injury isn’t just physical. Carolyn was attacked in the Packhouse Royal Garden. A rogue pack infiltrated, and she was specifically targeted.”

The mention of the Royal Garden sent a jolt through me, a visceral reaction that made my ribs throb anew—not just from the recent fall, but from the specters of memories I had tried to bury. My heart raced as vivid flashes of that chaotic night flooded my mind, shadows darting at the edges of my recollection, each one a reminder of the terror I had faced.

I swallowed hard, my voice barely a whisper, as if raising it would summon the very ghosts I feared. “Attacked in the Royal Garden? Is that even conceivable? There are supposed to be stringent security measures in place!”

Keane nodded, his expression grim, his eyes darkening with concern. “Yes, it was a coordinated attack. This wasn’t just random chaos; these rogue wolves had a plan. They struck right at the heart of the Royal Garden. Carolyn was injured amidst the turmoil. It’s deeply troubling that they managed to breach the garden without leaving a trace.”

I pressed my hand against my mouth, recalling the shadows that flitted through the trees, the rustling leaves, and the panic that had seized me that night. They were intent on sowing chaos within this pack, and now it seemed their reach extended even further.

“And…” I hesitated, my voice quaking slightly, “was that… the night I was attacked? The gray wolf?”

Keane’s expression softened, a flicker of empathy shining through his otherwise stoic demeanor. “Yes. That was the night you were targeted. You were fortunate to survive. But you weren’t the only victim. The attacks have been escalating for some time now.”

A shiver coursed through me as I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ward off the chill of fear that clung to me like a second skin. “Escalating for a while?” My mind raced, grappling with the implications. “How many times? How long has this been happening without anyone informing me?”

Keane leaned back, steepling his fingers thoughtfully. “Long enough for us to identify a pattern. These attacks are meticulously planned. Someone is providing information to the rogues, and that’s the most concerning aspect.”

A frown creased my brow, anxiety knotting my stomach. “Someone… inside the Packhouse?”

He shook his head slowly, his expression serious. “Not from within. From outside. An outsider who has access to our movements but remains undetected. Someone who knows enough to execute these attacks with precision.”

My chest tightened, a tumultuous mix of relief and fury battling within me. Relief surged because Keane indicated that I wasn’t the one leaking information, yet raw anger bubbled up—uncontrollable and potent.

I snapped, sitting up straighter despite the ache in my body. “Outside? An outsider? You mean… not me? Because, last I checked, I’m the only outsider here. I wasn’t born into this Packhouse; I lack the insider connections, and yet somehow, everyone treats me like I’m under a microscope. And now you’re telling me it’s someone else? Someone external?”

Keane’s eyes softened, but his tone remained resolute. “You were never suspected, Roana. We conducted thorough investigations. You were attacked just like everyone else, and there’s no evidence linking you to this.”

I let out a sharp exhale, running a hand down my face in frustration. “I want to believe that,” I murmured, my voice low and tinged with bitterness. “I truly do. But it doesn’t add up. Why would someone from the outside have this level of access? And why now?”

Sean, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally interjected. “Sometimes, the most dangerous enemies are the ones you least expect. They lie in wait, they observe, and then they strike. We can’t afford to underestimate them.”

I shot him a glare that was a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Sean, you sound like one of those overly dramatic generals from a historical drama. Please, calm down. My ribs are already screaming, and your voice is making them feel even more betrayed.”

He managed a faint smirk but didn’t argue, which I took as a small victory. I turned back to Keane, determined not to let my thoughts scatter. “So… someone is feeding information. Outside the Royal Packhouse. That explains the precision. But why Carolyn specifically? Why now? And… how does this connect with my presence here?”

Keane leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze intense. “Carolyn was targeted because she has close ties to the Royal leadership. The rogues aimed to destabilize the Packhouse by attacking its center of authority. As for you… you were merely in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

A flare of anger surged within me, mingling with a sense of helplessness. “So I was just… collateral damage? Just a bonus casualty in their twisted scheme?”

Keane’s gaze softened further, his expression sympathetic. “You were unfortunate, yes. But you survived, and that’s what truly matters. Your survival provides us with vital information. It reveals the patterns of the attacks and helps us narrow down the suspects.”

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