Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 207

Chapter 207: 207. Samhain IV (Soren)

Soren

The moment Gareth, the head of my personal guard, came through the doors, I already knew what he was going to say.

"There’s movement on the southern border," he murmured, low enough that only we could hear. "They’ve gone dark..."

He tracked off, tapping the comms in his ear as I brought the liquor to my lips and Jericho said, "The east, too?"

Gareth nodded, his eyes shifting my way. "They took the bait. Just like you said they would."

I took a slow sip of my drink, letting the burn settle in my chest. Mercer stood beside me, wearing a nonchalant expression, but I felt the shift in his posture.

Of course Margaret would strike tonight.

She was many things. Vicious, brilliant, and utterly convinced of her own superiority. But in the end, she was also predictable once you’d spent long enough watching her.

And I had been watching her since I was five years old. Since the night she tried to slit my throat in my own bed. Since I was aware of the fact that she had taken my mother and father(s) from me.

I had never forgotten. I had never forgiven.

And now she had given me the perfect stage to retaliate.

To know one’s enemy, you had to know their mind. My aunt taught me that. And I had never departed from that lesson. Not while dealing with my aunt. And certainly not while dealing with Margaret.

It was why I knew Margaret would try to attack the wedding ceremony tonight.

It was the perfect opportunity.

The overwhelming amount of guests from all parts of Ashbourne. The guards of the Night Shade pack would be spread too thin securing the high standing guests—especially the members of the Council of Wolves present tonight—and they would hardly notice if a rogue slipped in.

I wagered the south borders would be hit first. I had ensured there would be fewer guards there tonight. The east border was also a good choice. It was the closest and easiest entry into the pack grounds.

I flexed my fingers around the glass. By my calculations, her people would breach the perimeter within the next ten minutes.

They would come for the Queen first. That was Margaret’s style. She liked to make statements.

Let her.

The Queen’s personal guards were already moving into position around the hall. My aunt had no idea that the extra security she thought was protecting her was, in truth, containing her.

She believed she was here to oversee a wedding. She didn’t know she had walked straight into a trap I had spent weeks setting.

Because why did I have to kill my aunt, when I could let Margaret do it for me?

I had no intention of dirtying my own hands with my aunt’s blood. Not when there were cleaner ways to remove her from the board. The Lycan court was many things, but it was not forgiving of those who committed open treason.

If the Queen accidentally died tonight at the hands of an Exile, the Council would demand blood and violence in return.

There was nothing my race loved more than a scapegoat.

And I would give them Margaret.

I would play the grieving, loyal nephew. I would try—and fail—to save my aunt in front of the entire crowd. I would let Margaret believe she had won, right up until the moment I had her delivered to the Council as proof of our devotion to the crown.

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