Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 259

Chapter 259: 259. The Competition VII

Maisie

Slipping away and finding my way around the sentries was the hardest part. The entire school grounds were crawling with more of them than I’d seen in one place in my whole life.

But I was eager. I was angry. I was hateful. Determined.

Exonerating myself was a side mission. The main reason I’d come back was to put a knife in the Queen’s heart, the same way she had inspired me to. I cared more about that than clearing my name.

It was my only objective. My only aim in life. My goal. Because if anything were to get better, I needed to topple the Queen off the chessboard.

I’d thought it all out. I’d need to get close enough to her to do it. I’d considered a hundred different methods while I trained my body, but nothing had kindled the fire inside me as much as giving her exactly what I had received.

But that meant getting into the castle somehow, and I couldn’t do that as a prisoner being tracked every second of the day. They would find me before I ever set foot in her harem.

It was why I had ever given thought to clearing my name. That, amongst other things.

But if she was going to be here today, on neutral grounds, I didn’t need to wait.

Soren would make a great king. And maybe Mercer would understand one day.

Sweat tracked down my temples as I waited for the sound that heralded the Lycan Queen’s arrival.

I’d been here long enough to learn the pattern of the sentries moving through the stadium, speaking into the comms in their ears and scanning row after row of students. They were looking for me. They couldn’t track me anymore.

The nape of my neck still hurt from using my claws to dig out the tracker and rip it out.

If the Queen died today, there would be no need for it. I was likely going to get executed for murder before morning.

"You’re not thinking straight," my Lycan said. "This is too sudden. Too rash. You are too angry."

She was right. My hands were shaking around the stolen quiver from the fighter’s arsenal of weapons. I couldn’t hold the daggers. I’d tried and found that I was too tense to hold it right, not to speak of coming close enough to the Queen to do what needed to be done.

The arrow was my best bet. And it did help a ton that Arielle Kent, the fighter from Hellsgrave, had a total of thirteen arrows. Twelve of them were silver tipped, but the thirteenth had an ashen tip.

I wondered just who Arielle had in mind when she had that added to the quiver, but it didn’t matter. I would take it as the Goddess’s blessings today.

Knowing what terrible luck I had, there would never be a chance as good as this one.

I tuned out my Lycan’s rambling and watched the entrance from the service stairwell high above the main sitting area. I counted down every miserable second that trickled into minutes.

And then, the air changed. A stifling heaviness that hadn’t been in the stadium an hour ago filled the space so rapidly, conversations died instantly.

I uncoiled from my low crouch as every student in the stadium rose to their feet, the screens around the stadium capturing the moment they all lowered their heads in a ceremonial bow in deference.

I barely heard the herald announce her arrival. Barely heard much else as more than a score guards marched in, paving the way for the sole figure striding inside in a midnight-black regalia.

The feeds at every corner switched to a close up video of the horrifying redhead devil with the Goddess’s eye on her brow.

It didn’t matter how many times I met her. It always felt different somehow.

Her red hair was smooth as silk down her pale, ageless skin. She didn’t even look a day older than the last I’d seen her. If anything, she looked younger.

Her black skirts billowed around her like a pool of black waters and she walked with her head held up high, her shoulders pulled back and her spine straight. And with every step she took further into the hall, that awful pressure poured out of her in waves, making even the strongest wolves tremble in her wake.

Sweat broke across my skin. Just how much power could one being possess? And did it all come from that stone?

Behind her came her mates, all five of them hedging around her protectively.

My breath hitched when Kara walked in next. She looked far older than the last time I saw her. Her childish glee was completely gone and she looked like a stone statue as she trailed behind, hands clasped in a lady-like demureness on the curve of her ivory-laced dress.

I had never used a bow before, but I had always been a quick study. And I had to thank her for months of fighting every assassin she sent my way, for it had thought me more about survival than any training Instructor Warren could have given us. It thought me about weapons, the systems to them, and it sure made my grip and aim much, much better.

My hands still shook as I drew back the string until my shoulders burned and the fletching dug into the corner of my mouth. But it was inconsequential.

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