Defying the Lycan King (Kira and Derek) novel Chapter 196

Chapter 196: A Sad Melody

At midnight, long after Declan and Kai had finally retired, Derek stood alone by the window of his study, a whiskey bottle in one hand and a glass in the other.

He poured a splash of the amber liquid into the glass and downed it in one go. He didn’t even blink. He poured again. And again. The burn of it barely registered anymore.

Kira, where on earth are you? he thought.

Inside him, Leo had gone quiet. The beast had stopped its endless snarling and pacing, and what had replaced it was worse, a kind of hollow withdrawal, a creature curling in on itself in grief. Derek could feel it, that absence, like a missing tooth his tongue kept finding.

He could barely think straight. He had not slept properly in two days, and the exhaustion had soaked into his bones and into the spaces behind his eyes.

And still his mind circled the same question, over and over, like a wolf worrying a bone. How had Rolf known? How had the man understood his exact plan, anticipated his every move, laid a trap of that size and precision and waited for Derek to walk straight into it?

It was not possible without help. Without someone on the inside.

He closed his eyes, trying to picture the faces of every single warrior in his inner circle, trying to figure out who the traitor could be among his men.

He went through them one by one, every gamma, every man he trusted, and could not land on a single one. Not one of them fit.

Bruce had died in that explosion. But it couldn’t have been Bruce. A man did not lead his own brothers into a slaughter only to be torn apart by it himself. That made no sense.

The thoughts went round and round until he could not stand them anymore.

Tired of his own head, Derek crossed to the music player and put on something slow and aching, a sad melody that filled the room.

Dancing had always been an escape.

He closed his eyes and began to move, swaying and dancing to the melancholy tune by himself.

But the grief and the alcohol were a terrible mix. Within seconds, the sadness turned into pure, uncontrollable madness.

He hurled the glass against the wall and it shattered. He smashed the bottle after it.

He swept his arm across the desk and sent everything on it crashing to the floor, papers, ornaments, a lamp, and through it all he was screaming, raw and wordless, all the fury and helplessness and terror of two days pouring out of him at once.

When at last he had nothing left, when his voice had gone hoarse and his strength had drained away, he sank to his knees in the middle of the wreckage he had made, and pressed both hands over his face, hiding his eyes as he began to let out breathless whimpers on the floor, his broad shoulders shaking in the dark.

Meanwhile, just outside the slightly open door, Nana stood watching him through the narrow slant.

She had heard the crashing and come to see, and now she stood very still and didn’t go inside. She knew her proud grandson would hate for anyone to see him like this.

Tears streamed down her face as she listened to his painful grunts.

Wiping her eyes with her hands, she quietly walked away into the dark corridor, leaving the King to weep into his bloodied hands.

***

The next morning, the gammas filed into the war council one after another, and Derek paced the front of the room like a hungry predator.

His fist clenched and unclenched at his side, his knuckles still scraped and bruised from his midnight meltdown. He didn’t say a word.

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