Defying the Lycan King (Kira and Derek) novel Chapter 107

Chapter 107: Dead or Alive

Ruby had timed it perfectly.

She had perfected the art of the "accidental" entrance, the blink of surprise, the way her lips parted as if a word was caught right on the tip of her tongue.

Internally, however, her mind was anything but soft. It was cold and boiling with rage.

She had seen Ishita loitering around at the staff quarters, and when she had asked why she wasn’t in the kitchen, the older woman had replied that the King had asked her to leave the kitchen and allow him to make breakfast for the Queen himself.

Ruby had felt like someone had slapped her, and she had come to see for herself.

"I didn’t realise anyone was in here," Ruby said again, masking the acidic burn in her throat. "I was actually looking for Ishita. There’s a minor welfare discrepancy with the lower-level staff in the east wing that needs a signature."

"It’s fine," Derek said, without looking up from the mug he was refilling. "Ishita isn’t here, but sit down, since you’re here."

There was a pregnant pause. Kira looked up from her plate, her expression calm but guarded. She knew Ruby’s "welfare issues" were often just excuses to be near Derek, but she remained silent, choosing to observe the play of power.

Ruby moved into the room with a feline grace, her eyes sweeping over the scene. She took in the golden omelette on Kira’s plate and the rolled-up sleeves of Derek’s black shirt and sat down.

The sight of the Lycan King—a man who usually moved through the world with the destructive potential of a hurricane—handling a spatula and making breakfast was jarring.

"There’s omelette left," Kira said to her, nodding towards the pan on the stove. "Help yourself."

Ruby blinked, mildly surprised by the offer. She rose, took a plate from the rack, and helped herself to the remaining omelette, carrying it back to her seat.

She picked up a fork and took a bite, and despite herself, it was genuinely good. She glanced at the pan, then at Derek.

"Ishita made this?" she asked.

"He did," Kira said, at the exact same moment Derek said, "Ishita left it."

Ruby looked between them.

Kira raised an eyebrow at Derek. "You just told me you made the omelette."

"I said Ishita left it."

"You said no such thing. You said you were testing your cooking skills."

"I said I was using the kitchen."

"That is not the same sentence." Kira turned to Ruby with the expression of a woman presenting evidence. "He made the omelette. He won’t admit it."

"I’m not admitting or denying anything," Derek said, trying not to smile with his mug half-way to his lips. "I’m simply noting that the omelette exists and you should eat it."

"I am eating it." Kira held up a forkful as proof. "I’m also noting for the record that it’s very good and you should be proud."

"I can’t be proud when I did nothing.

"You even made two portions."

"In case I wanted seconds."

Kira stared at him. "You are the worst liar I have ever met in my entire life."

The corner of Derek’s curved into a full smile, and Ruby’s fork paused against her plate. She felt an invisible wall in the kitchen. It wasn’t a wall that kept Derek and Kira apart, but one that encircled them, leaving her on the outside.

He is smiling for her?

Something cold moved through Ruby’s chest.

She set her fork down and reached for a composed, conversational tone.

"Speaking of cooking," she said, looking at Derek, "do you remember how your mother used to make that spiced bread every Sunday morning? The whole east wing smelled of it. You used to come down before anyone else just to get the first slice."

She smiled warmly. "I don’t think anyone has made it since."

I can do it again, Ruby thought, her fingers clenching her napkin under the table. I will do it again.

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