"What just happened?" Declan asked, staring at the doorway where Kira’s Lycan had vanished.
"She... she’s a white Lycan?" Crane breathed, his face drained of all colour, his voice barely above a whisper. "That’s not possible. A white Lycan."
Meanwhile, an immeasurable pain lanced through Derek’s chest.
It hit him without warning, a deep, tearing burn that doubled him forward, and his hand flew up to clutch at his chest as though he could hold the thing together by force.
Inside him, Leo threw back his head and let out a high, agonised howl, a sound of pure anguish that shook through Derek’s entire body and rattled his teeth.
Kai turned on him, his face dark with fury.
"I hope you’re happy now," he bit out. "I hope this is everything you wanted."
Derek didn’t respond, he was too shocked and in pain to understand what Kai was saying to him at the moment.
A few feet away, Nana’s heart was breaking into a million pieces. She stood frozen, eyes wide as saucers, her right palm placed on her chest.
After everything she had done—all the sneaky matchmaking, the hours spent orchestrating events to bring Derek and Kira together, the quiet moments where she genuinely thought her stubborn grandson had finally found true love—it had all been a farce.
A lie. A calculated lie from the very beginning, to deceive her and to get the throne from her. She didn’t know which hurt most, the fact that they had both lied to her or that they had just broken apart in her front.
The stress of the dark revelation became too much for her to handle. Her hand flew over to her head, as she let out a soft groan, and fainted.
"Mother!" Crane lunged and caught her before she hit the floor, easing her down, shaking her gently. "Mother. Mother, can you hear me?"
Kai and Declan rushed over. Declan snatched a bottle of water off the top of the credenza and dropped to his knees beside them.
But Derek wasn’t even getting himself, his vision swam.
He blinked hard, twice, staggering on his feet, unable to make sense of the pain crashing through his head and his chest all at once.
It did not feel like grief. It did not feel like rage. It felt like something being ripped clean out of him, from the root of his being.
White Lycan, his mind repeated, dazed. Kira is a white Lycan.
He had never seen one. He had only ever heard of them in the oldest stories, the rarest of all their kind, spoken of the way one spoke of myths.
She wasn’t even a werewolf. How was that possible? How did Rolf raise a lycan under his roof?
When at last his heartbeat steadied enough for him to move, enough for him to think past the agony, Derek turned and bolted out of his study.
He came roaring into the corridor, where startled gammas and servants stood frozen, every one of them clearly having watched the white Lycan tear past moments before.
"Find the white Lycan!" Derek bellowed. "Now! Bring her back to me unharmed!"
The entire palace was instantly thrown into a frenzy.


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