Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 89

**Fireflies in Winter Rain — Neil A. Varma**
**Chapter 89**

Cassian,

“Did we truly like her? Did we really?”

I found myself whispering these words as I painstakingly signed the documents before me, my grip on the pen tightening with each stroke as if the mere act of holding it incorrectly could shatter the fragile reality I was grappling with. The attendants surrounding me seemed to be caught in a tableau of anxiety, their rigid postures straightening each time my voice broke the heavy silence. Their faces reflected a blend of concern and bewilderment, as if they were witnessing the unraveling of their king in real time. Yet, they had no idea that, for the very first time in my life, I was confronted with a question so simple, yet so profound, that I couldn’t muster an answer.

–

The hours slipped by in a haze, a blur of conversations and movements that felt like shadows dancing just beyond my reach. Words floated around me, people bustled to and fro, schedules morphed and shifted – yet none of it penetrated the fog that enveloped my mind. The thought gnawed at me incessantly, burrowing deep into my consciousness like a thorn I was powerless to extract. I was lost in a labyrinth of uncertainty, unable to find a way to confront the feelings that churned within me.

Lorenzo’s gaze flickered toward me repeatedly, his confusion evident as it tugged at the corners of his mouth. Unlike his usual self, he refrained from chastising me, from letting out an exasperated sigh, or from hurling sharp remarks whenever Roana’s name was mentioned.

I understood his intention; he wanted to reinforce the boundaries that existed between Roana and me. But I had never given him the audacity to insult her, not even once.

It seemed, however, that after our earlier confrontation, he had decided to take a step back. His posture remained stiff, yet there was a hesitance in his movements that I had never witnessed before.

“Your Majesty, your next appointment is a visit to the dungeon. Well—” His voice wavered slightly as he finally met my gaze, his expression steady but his eyes flickering with apprehension. “Her Highness is currently there with Commander Keane.”

My attention snapped to him with such intensity that I could see his shoulders tense in response.

The chair behind me screeched against the polished floor as I shot up, my shadow enveloping the table, blocking out the light. “What did you just say?”

“They’re there, meeting Alexander.”

My jaw clenched so tightly that a sharp pain shot through my teeth, a pulse of anger throbbing in my neck, my veins constricting. Why was she with that insufferable brat again? It was no wonder he hadn’t been present at the meeting.

“We are heading to the dungeon. Right now.” The words erupted from my mouth before I could even think to hold them back. I stormed out, my pace quickening with every step I took.

Did she really need to go to him every single time? If she needed anything, I would have gladly accompanied her myself.

Cyrus hissed within my mind, each word dripping with disappointment. “If you hadn’t tried to force yourself on her, she would have asked us to accompany her. You insatiable, disgusting idiot.”

A muscle in my eyebrow twitched at his words. “Have you heard yourself? You kept pushing me to mark her. You couldn’t even control your own urges. And now it’s my fault? Incredible.”

“Shut up! I want to mark my mate. I want to claim her for life!”

I chose to ignore him. My footsteps grew heavier, echoing like thunder in the empty hallway. It wasn’t until I noticed the way people hurriedly pressed themselves against the walls, their eyes wide with fear, that I realized the sheer amount of Aura I was releasing.

But I didn’t care. The only thought hammering in my mind was the urgent need to reach her. Fast.

As I approached the dungeon, the air felt unnaturally still, a heavy silence that pressed down on me. I halted at the entrance, a feeling of unease twisting uncomfortably in my chest—something far worse than mere anger, almost a sense of dread.

But then, my eyes widened as a voice drifted through the shadows from behind a wall.

“Please don’t tell anyone that the Black Moon Flower is deadly for you. Not even His Majesty.”

I froze, my breath caught in my throat. My eyes narrowed, darkness creeping into them like ink. Deadly? The Black Moon Flower was deadly for her?

“Deadly?” Lorenzo’s voice sharpened, the sound of his boots scraping against the ground. “How is that possible? Only witches are affected by the Black Moon Flower. It’s lethal to them.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. “Black Moon Flower can indeed be deadly for witches, yet they still choose to use it. But Roana can’t even touch it.”

“We know nothing about her. And don’t you think she has been targeted from the very beginning? As if everything that’s happening is intertwined with her!”

His words made me pause, a cold line forming between my brows. Something clicked in my mind—faint and vague, like the outline of an answer just beginning to take shape.

“Lorenzo, come with me,” I said quietly, my voice suddenly steady.

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