Defying the Lycan King (Kira and Derek) novel Chapter 72

Chapter 72: Rolf’s True Face

The transition back to reality felt like being slammed against a wall. Kira let out a sharp cry that tore through the quiet living room of the cottage. Her hand flew back as if she had touched a live wire, breaking the contact with Maya.

The force of the sudden movement sent her stumbling backward until her legs gave out, and she fell hard onto the floor, landing on her butt.

She sat there, her breath coming in shallow gasps, staring up at Maya in stunned disbelief. The world around her felt fuzzy and distant, but the images inside her head were crystal clear. Tears had already soaked her cheeks, warm and salty, but she didn’t even feel them.

Her heart pounded against her ribs like a drum, echoing the horror of what she had just seen. The memories weren’t just flashes; they were a floodgate that had finally burst open. Her brain had suppressed them for years, burying the trauma under layers of horrifying nightmare. But now, she knew they were all real.

Rolf.

He hadn’t just been a cold father. He had been her executioner. As she sat on the floor, more memories began to claw their way to the surface, uninvited and terrifying.

She recalled a night when she was even younger, waking up to the sensation of thick, heavy fingers tightening around her throat in the dark. She remembered the face of the man now. Her father’s face had been twisted with hate.

She recalled the day she had almost fallen from the first-floor balcony, the world had spun, and she had thought she tripped, but now she remembered the heartless shove against her shoulder blades.

And in every single one of those moments, there was a woman who arrived just in time. Lydia.

The woman she had spent her life viewing as her tormentor had actually been her saviour. It confused her. Was it possible it had all been a distraction? A way to keep Rolf from finishing what he started? Why had Lydia saved her from her father more than once?

Kira clutched her chest, her fingers digging into her shirt as if she could physically hold her heart inside. "Oh, goddess," she muttered, her voice small and broken. "He has been trying to kill me all this while. My own father..."

The "why" of it felt like a black hole. She thought back to the mall, to the strange woman who had looked at her with such pure, unadulterated horror. "Claire," the woman had gasped.

Her mother’s name was Claire.

If I look so much like my mother, and he hated me enough to want to erase me... Did he truly love my mother like he claimed? Why do I torment him? Who was that woman at the mall? And what did she know?

The questions raced through her mind like wildfire, but she had no answer to any of them. All she could do was weep for the little girl who had spent years trying to earn the love of a man who only wanted her in a grave.

The sound of footsteps approaching made her flinch.

Flora re-entered the living room, carrying a glass of water in her hand. The moment her eyes landed on the scene, her face went a ghostly shade of white. She saw Kira crumpled on the floor, her face twisted with agony and wet with tears.

"Your Highness!" Flora cried out, the glass slipping from her fingers. It hit the rug with a dull thud, water splashing everywhere.

Flora hurried over, her eyes darting frantically between Maya—who stood as still as a statue—and the broken woman on the floor. She knelt beside Kira, her hands hovering as if afraid she might break her.

"My queen? Child, what is it? What happened?"

Kira couldn’t find the words. She couldn’t explain that the little girl standing there had just handed her a key to a house of horrors. She reached out, grasping Flora’s arm with a desperate, shaking hand.

"Take me back," Kira choked out, her voice barely audible. "Please, Flora. Just take me back to the beach house. I can’t... I can’t be here."

Flora didn’t ask questions. She saw the raw trauma in Kira’s eyes and knew that the shopping trip and the eventful afternoon were over.

"Of course. Of course, dear. Stay right here." She scrambled up, her keys jingling loudly as she snatched them from the counter, her movements hurried and anxious.

When the he finally spotted Alistar’s truck coming down the driveway, Derek’s body relaxed for a split second before his pride took over. He couldn’t let her see him like this—anxious, waiting, watching.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify