Defying the Lycan King (Kira and Derek) novel Chapter 89

Chapter 89: The Heir Apparent

Kira watched Sandra strut up the front deck, her heels clicking with an arrogance that set Kira’s teeth on edge. She was clutching the hand of the young boy—a child with amber eyes that looked far too much like a mirror of Derek’s own.

Fury coiled in Kira’s chest. She didn’t care what history lay between them, but the sheer disrespect of this woman bringing a child to this house where they were spending their honeymoon was a line she wouldn’t allow her to cross. It was clear Sandra didn’t know when to quit.

"Excuse me," Kira called out. "Can I help you with something? Or are you lost?"

Sandra didn’t even glance up. She simply ignored Kira, crouching down to the boy’s level and smiling sweetly. "Sweetheart, go inside and wait for Mummy, okay? Go on."

"No," Kira said, her tone hardening. She offered the boy a small, forced smile of her own. "Actually, sweetheart, why don’t you head back to the car and wait there? Your mother won’t be staying long."

The little boy looked between the two women, his small face pinched with uncertainty. After a tense silence, Sandra straightened, the fake sweetness sliding off her face as she gestured for him to go back. The boy nodded and scrambled back towards the vehicle.

"He has been pestering me since he heard the King had arrived at Snow Crest," Sandra said, turning to Kira with a look of feigned exhaustion. "I simply had to bring him today."

Kira crossed her arms over her chest. "Sandra," she called, her voice laced with poison. "I’m going to give you exactly five seconds to turn around and leave this property with your dignity and your limbs still intact."

Sandra’s brows drew together, and she stared at Kira as though she had just grown two heads. "Why on earth would I do that? I just told you—"

"It’s your sheer audacity for me," Kira spat, taking a step forward, trying to intimidate the woman, even though she was smaller. "I warned you last night to stay away from my husband. If you stay a second longer, you’re going to find out exactly what I’m capable of."

Sandra didn’t flinch. Instead, she looked Kira up and down with a condescending pity that made Kira want to scream. "You know, for someone who claims to have the King’s heart, you’re remarkably insecure," she drawled, her eyes dancing.

"And for someone who was discarded years ago, you’re remarkably delusional," Kira shot back.

"Am I?" Sandra stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Is that what he told you? That he dumped me? Or are you just terrified that he’ll rekindle his old flame? You know what they say about a man’s first love, don’t you?"

"Ms Sandra, that is enough," Flora’s voice rang out as she appeared behind Kira. "You are disturbing the Queen’s peace. I must ask you to leave."

Sandra scoffed looking at the older woman with disdain. "I’d like to see you try and make me. This house belongs to the Wolfes, and my son is a Wolfe. He has every right to be here."

"Not during the King’s honeymoon," Flora countered firmly.

Kira turned away, her head spinning. If Derek already had a son, why was he so obsessed with her providing an heir? Was the marriage just a sick game? As she moved to go inside, a convoy of black vehicles roared up the driveway, led by a familiar Rolls-Royce.

She didn’t want to see him again. She scoffed and stormed into the house, the door clicking shut behind her.

When Derek stepped from his car, little Ralph ran straight for him. Derek froze for a fraction of a second, his amber eyes flicking to the doorway where Kira had just vanished. Then, with a sigh, he knelt to the boy’s level.

"Hey, Ralph, how have you been?" Derek’s voice was uncharacteristically soft as he reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair.

"I’m well, Your Grace," Ralph replied, giving a stiff, tiny bow.

Derek stood, took the boy’s small hand, and walked him back to Sandra’s car.

"Oh, Drek," Sandra cooed, sashaying toward him. "I brought him to see you. It’s been far too long, hasn’t it?"

Derek didn’t answer. He simply stared at her, his amber eyes turning to cold, dead stone.

"I won’t ask what you’re doing here," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Because it is clear the asylum made a grave error in declaring you mentally fit."

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