The Secret Heirs of the Lycan King (Bella and scott) novel Chapter 122

Chapter 122

At first, I was confident. I was sure Craig would make Scott pay, and once the fifty million came through, my cut would follow. Thirty million dollars. Craig would wire it. It would clear very debt.

But seeing how Scott behaved, I had also prepared for the other outcome. If Craig failed, then I needed to be far away. The moment there was even a hint that Scott had figured it out, I was going to be gone.

I got out of New York just in time, and I knew it was just in time ecause my instincts had been screaming at me for hours.

Scott Moore was not a man who reacted without thinking. Though he was calm on the outside, every time Craig pushed for the money, Scott delayed it. It felt like a deliberate delay.

Why was it that I felt that it wasn’t the behavior of a King cornered? It was the behavior of a predator waiting for the right moment to bite. I felt it in my bones, and the moment I did, I knew this situation could take a nasty turn. Or maybe not.

I didn’t sit around for another update from Craig or Maya. I collected what mattered, shoved it into a bag, and I left the city, I did not use my usual car, and did not make the mistake of taking routes anyone could predict. Scott’s wolves were everywhere. They could pounce on me if they detected my scent

Now I was sitting in a dingy motel room in a small town in east Canada, with peeling wallpaper and a smell of damp wood. The whiskey in my hand tasted like dirt, but I drank it anyway because I needed something to keep my nerves from snapping. I had come here through forest routes, off the grid, by shifting into my wolf and running until my muscles burned and my lungs felt like they were tearing. I’d kept my bagstrapped tight, and every time I caught a strange scent, I froze and listened, waiting for pursuit.

Even here, in this miserable room, I couldn’t relax. I kept glancing at the window. I kept listening for footsteps outside the door. Every sound made me tense.

The anger inside me was worse than the fear. I had given the last of my money to Craig for this plan because I hated Scott. I hated him for ruining me. I hated him for choosing Bella. And for killing Tasha.

He killed her brutally, publicly, and made an example. And Cass was rotting in the Silver Mane dungeons because of this mess. I felt…helpless.

In my rage, I flung the whiskey glass across the room. It smashed against the wall and shattered. My chest heaved and I snarled. Because of Scott, I was nothing.

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He had banished me from my pack and declared me a rogue. He had cut every business tie with me. Then he froze my assets the moment he dug into my accounts and found my misappropriations.

I had a small amount left, a hidden reserve, and I used even that to fund Maya’s plan because I wanted to see Scott bleed. Instead, he turned it into a trap.

I remembered that night at the pub when I first heard Maya’s voice. She was planning with Craig. I didn’t even hesitate to

support and money. help. The enemy of my enemy was my friend. I slid into their orbit smoothly, offered

We did careful planning: bought a private server, hired one of the best video editors, and made sure the overlay looked real.

I loved watching the pressure build, loved hearing Craig’s updates about how Scott was negotiating. I was certain Scott would pay because he had a woman he clearly wanted to protect

But Scott was smarter than I gave him credit for.

He discovered the fraud. It took him one week to unearth the entire plan, and by the end of it, Craig and Maya were trapped, exposed, and ruined. Somehow, I anticipated this.

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11:04 Wed, Dec 31

Chapter 129

So Iran.

Now I was a rogue who had no protection. Any pack could kill me now, and some of them would hunt me just for sport. I had with forests and rivers and long routes that didn’t cross into tertiories with patrols.

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and claim it was justice. Any wolf could smell weakness on stay under the radar, keep moving, keep my scent masked

The only option left was leaving the country, and there was no chance I was using an airport because the police were looking.

I was taking the sea route.

In the middle of the night, I got up, packed what little I owned into my bag, and walked out of the motel without paying because I had very little cash left.

I shifted into my wolf when I reached the tree line, and I grabbed my bag with my jaws. Then I ran toward the nearest port from this town. It was just before dawn when I reached the outskirts of the docks.

The port was waking up slowly. Workers moved around with tired faces and coffee cups in their hands, and I watched them from the shadows before shifting back and pulling my coat on. I kept my head down, forced my breathing steady, and moved cautiously.

I picked the first ship that was preparing to leave the country, and I approached it like a worker reporting for duty. No one questioned me. They rarely did when a man looked like he had somewhere to be. I slipped onboard, moved through narrow corridors, and found the engine room. It stank of oil and heat, and it was loud enough to cover my scent any small sound I made.

I hid behind stacked equipment, pulling my bag close, holding my breath when footsteps passed.

An hour later, the ship’s horn blasted across the water. The ship started moving, and I stayed still, listening, letting the reality settle in.

I was leaving. Running like a prey. But I wasn’t done.

Sitting in that cramped space, with the engine roaring beside me I clenched my jaw until it hurt. I didn’t have money, status or a pack. But I still had my hatred.

I promised myself, quietly, that this wasn’t the end. I would come back. And one day, I would take my revenge. I would kill Scott Moore’s mate.

I would take Bella from him, and I would watch him break piece by piece the way he had broken me.