Chapter 117 Sold by blood
IRIS
I grip the wooden staff tighter, feeling it thrum with every movement I make. Grandfather watches me from across the training yard, arms folded, his eyes sharp as ever. “Again,” he says. “Faster. Strike with purpose, not hesitation.”
I pivot, swing, and jab. My muscles scream, but I push through. The staff clicks against his own with a precision that makes my teeth grit. “Better,” he nods. “Your footwork is clean, Iris. Again.”
We move in a rhythm now, attack and counter, a loop that makes sweat sting my eyes. I’m improving fast and I even notice it. Grandfather’s brow lifts slightly each time I anticipate his strike. “You’ve got talent,” he says, and for a split second, pride warms my chest. “Better than I expected.”
I smirk. “Told you I wasn’t useless.”
He chuckles low. “You’re far from useless. But talent without control is dangerous.” His voice is calm, steady, like it always is, but there’s that edge underneath, the one I’ve felt my entire life. “Ten more rounds. Make me see it.”
I nod and raise my staff. Our strikes are faster now, sharper, a blur of wood and muscle. Then, finally, he signals a halt. “Enough for now. Ten minutes break. You’ve earned it.” He pulls a glass from the bench beside him and hands it to me. Orange juice, sweet, refreshing. I drink deeply, expecting only relief.
But seconds later, my vision shifts. Blurs. The world folds in strange angles. I blink, confusion gripping me. “Grandfather? Wha-what is happening?” My knees wobble, and the staff slips from my hands.
He leans down, putting a hand under my arm, steadying me. “Iris… I’ve lived my life hiding. On the outskirts. Watching from the shadows while the pack thrives without me. I’m tired.” His voice is soft now, almost intimate, but every word cuts. “I want my life back. A life where I’m no longer hiding. And I’ve thought long and hard about how to get it.”
My stomach twists. “Grandfather… what are you saying?”
“I’m saying what I’ve always thought,” he continues, eyes glinting. “The Lycan King wants you gone. That much is clear. So… I’m giving him what he wants.” He pauses, letting the words settle, letting me feel the weight of them. “In exchange, he pardons me of all my offenses. My freedom. My life. And I’ll have it, Iris.”
I stumble back, heart hammering. “You… you can’t do that. You can’t…how could you? How could you even think of using me like that?” My voice is sharp, breaking. “I’m your granddaughter.”
He kneels down so he’s level with me. “Iris… you’re going to die anyway. You’ve seen the signs. Why wait?” His hand rests lightly on my shoulder. I want to jerk away, but I can barely move. My muscles refuse to obey. The world tilts around me.
“No,” I whisper. My voice is small, weak. “You… you’re my family. You can’t-”
He lifts me with surprising strength for someone his age, carrying me toward the vehicle waiting nearby. I can’t fight it. My limbs feel like lead, my vision darkening at the edges. “I… I’m not going anywhere,” I manage to croak.
“You are,” he says, a grim edge to his voice. “And it’s for both our sakes. You’ll understand one day.” He sets me into the backseat. The leather is cold against my skin, the seatbelt barely catching as he snaps it across me. I try to move, but my body is numb, betraying me. Panic surges as I watch him move to the driver’s seat.
Then a voice pierces the air: “Stop! Please, don’t do this!” Nana, his wife, bursts from the house. Her hands wave desperately, fingers trembling. “Please, don’t start the car. Please, for Iris…”
He ignores her. His eyes are fixed on the road ahead, on the plan he’s set in motion. I try to lift my head, try to respond, but darkness is creeping over my vision. My hands twitch uselessly against the seat. “Nana… help…” My voice is barely audible.
The engine roars to life. The last thing I see before my eyes give in is Nana pounding on the side of the car, her face twisted in fear and pleading. Then everything fades.
\~~~
I wake to the sensation of being dragged. My body is sore, bruised, every joint stiff. My eyes blink open, focusing slowly. The throne room is vast, familiar yet alien now. Guards grip my arms on either side, pulling me forward. My grandfather walks behind me, calm, collected, almost proud. My heart races, and I strain against the guards, but my strength is minimal.
“Easy,” one of the guards mutters. “You’ll fall if you fight.”
I bite back a scream. “Grandfather… why?” I look at him, at the lines of his face, the way he stands so assuredly, unshaken. “Why are you doing this?”
He doesn’t answer me. His eyes are on the throne at the front of the room, where the Lycan King waits, seated, imposing. The guards drag me closer. My feet scrape against the floor. I try to take a step forward on my own, but the pain in my legs makes it impossible. My fists clench, and I glare at him, my chest heaving.
The Lycan King rises slowly, like a predator aware of its prize. “Ah… the girl,” he says. His voice is low, controlled. “I heard she was coming.”
Grandfather steps forward, bowing his head slightly. “Your Majesty,” he says, voice steady. “I bring Iris, as promised.”
“You’ve thought this through?” The King’s eyes are sharp, scanning my face. “This… exchange. For your freedom?” His lips curl in a faint, dangerous smile. “Bold. Or desperate. I can’t decide yet.”
I stumble forward, dragging my own weight. “This isn’t an exchange!” I manage to yell, my voice raspy. “I’m not…” My words cut off as one of the guards shoves me against a pillar. Pain shoots up my side. I blink rapidly, trying to focus on anything but the ache.
Grandfather places a hand lightly on my shoulder, almost possessively, as though claiming responsibility. “It is what it is,” he says, quietly. “I have nothing left to lose. And now… you will be mine to bargain.”
I growl low in my throat. “You monster!” My voice trembles, half with rage, half with fear. “How can you even stand there?”
The King’s smile widens slightly. “I admire honesty. I’ve heard much about you. A shame the circumstances are… unavoidable.” He gestures to the guards. “Place her where everyone can see.”
I’m pushed to the center of the room. My limbs are shaking. I feel trapped, every sense on high alert. My grandfather stands behind me, composed. My vision blurs slightly with tears I refuse to let fall. My nails dig into the cold stone, but it’s no use. My strength is gone.“This isn’t over,” I whisper through clenched teeth.
The King nods slowly, his eyes not leaving mine. “No, girl. But it begins now.”
I brace myself as he steps closer, the guards tightening their hold on me. My chest burns. My head spins. My body trembles. And then… the doors crash open. A familiar figure bursts in, running, eyes wild.
“IRIS!” Adrian’s voice echoes, cutting through the tense silence. My heart leaps, hope flaring through the exhaustion. “Iris! Get away from them!”
I strain against the guards, searching for him, my chest heaving. My grandfather doesn’t move, his expression unreadable. The King pauses, intrigued, eyes flicking between us. My blood boils with adrenaline, pain momentarily forgotten.
“Adrian…” I croak.
Help. I wanted to say, but my voice failed me.