Chapter 84 84
Venessa’s POV
Whoever wanted him dead still held power enough power to keep him alive just long enough to ensure he would never reclaim his throne.
Queen Rochelle begged him, tears streaking down her face as she pleaded for him to stay, but King Jamar remained unmoved. He said the journey was something he needed not just for himself, but for his wolf. A chance to breathe. A chance to feel alive again.
The King was a resolute man.
Firm in his decisions. Sharp-witted. Surprisingly easy to be around. It was a cruel twist of fate that I had met him at his weakest, because beneath the illness was a man who seemed genuinely kind, even warm. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what my mother had done to earn his wrath what sin had been so great it led to her banishment.
One day, I would ask him.
Not now. Not yet. But when he was well. When his strength returned and the shadow of death no longer hovered over him. Denzel had promised the Queen he wouldn’t raise the subject, but I hadn’t made such a promise. I only needed time just a few months. I deserved to know why my mother had been cast out and left to rot alone.
Denzel finally broke the silence as we drove through the Kingdom’s gates.
“We should head to the Bear Kingdom, Your Majesty,” he said carefully. “Forest Clan Bandits are strongest at night. If we run into them, it’ll be fatal.”
The King agreed without hesitation.
King Donovan’s territory was heavily guarded. We were stopped repeatedly, questioned, searched. Far more than the last time. I suspected it was because we arrived unannounced.
Everything changed the moment the bears realised who traveled with us.
The Lycan King’s presence shifted the air completely.
We were escorted inside without further delay.
King Donovan joined us in the waiting room less than five minutes later, still dressed in his house robe. Shock flashed across his face when he saw King Jamar followed by pride and deep respect. He was honoured. Genuinely so.
He congratulated Denzel and me warmly, clearly pleased by our union.
I noticed how his posture toward Denzel relaxed when he learned Denzel no longer had ties with Fabian. When Denzel told them what Tyrell and Jalisa had done, the room fell into stunned silence.
King Jamar’s jaw tightened.
“The apple never falls far from the tree,” he muttered, making it clear he believed Jalisa was very much her father’s daughter.
If only he knew the full truth.
But Denzel kept much of it to himself.
We were given rooms. Despite the late hour, King Donovan invited the men to drink with him. Denzel declined politely. King Jamar refused outright due to his health.
Donovan accepted it, and the night finally settled.
When Denzel and I were alone at last, he turned to me.
“Are you certain about what you told the King?” he asked quietly.
I nodded.
“How bad is it?”
I sighed.
“Whoever planned this wants him to suffer. A slow, painful death. No sudden end. No investigations. It’s easier to say a man wasted away from illness than to explain why a healthy King died or was killed. They’re making his death look as natural as possible.”
Sadness darkened Denzel’s eyes.
He genuinely cared for King Jamar. I realised how hard it must have been for him not being able to visit someone he loved because of his ties with Fabian. It had been an unfair position, and I was relieved he was finally free of it.
“So what happens when we get home?” he asked.
“I’ll choose the herbs, prepare the mixture, and start treatment,” I said. “If I’m right, he’ll feel changes by the fourth or fifth day.”
He nodded, then stepped closer, his body heat pressing into me.
“Enough about King Jamar,” he murmured, backing me toward the wall. “Aren’t you tired?”
I giggled softly.
“I can never be too tired for you, Venessa,” he growled.
His mouth crashed into mine, hungry and demanding. I melted into him instantly, my body responding before my mind could catch up. His hands roamed, gripping, claiming, reminding me exactly who I belonged to.
I kissed him back just as fiercely, and I knew it wouldn’t stop there.
Denzel slipped his hand beneath my skirt, tugging my panties down. I stepped out of them, heart racing, breath uneven. He sank to his knees without hesitation, disappearing beneath the fabric as he went to work.
My knees buckled the moment his mouth found me, sucking and teasing my most sensitive spot until my vision blurred. I clutched the wall, but he held me steady, relentless and skilled.
I was already exhausted, already undone. The release hit me fast and hard, ripping through my body before I could even warn him.
Denzel stood, unbuckling his belt, letting his trousers fall. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and he thrust into me in one smooth motion.
“I’m going to make every moment we have together count, Venessa,” he said, driving into me.
“Every fucking second,” he added, pumping harder, deeper.
I knew what he was doing etching memories into his bones. Giving me something to hold onto. Something he could remember if fate ever pulled us apart.
I moaned, my nails digging into his shoulders as he hit every perfect spot, pushing me higher, deeper into pleasure.
I didn’t resist it.
I let myself take everything he offered his love, his desperation, his devotion. It carried me somewhere warm and dizzy and overwhelming.
“I love you, Venessa,” he said, his thrusts growing frantic.
The orgasm tore through me without mercy, and he followed moments later, groaning my name as he came.
We were both panting when he finally stilled.
He didn’t let me walk.
Instead, he lifted me effortlessly, carried me to the bed, and laid me down with a tenderness that stole my breath. He undressed me slowly, reverently, like I was something precious.
We slept naked, tangled together, bodies fitted perfectly safe in each other’s arms as the night wrapped around us.
For now, at least, we were whole.