Chapter 18 Not today.
KANE
I moved through the castle, hurrying to where my mother was. Damon's message had stirred something uneasy within me. I’d learned long ago that nothing Zelda did was without purpose, and I would not underestimate her now.
Her scent led me straight to her sitting room. And immediately I entered, I saw her in there, lounging on a chaise, her arm wrapped in a bandage, arranged as if she’d been gravely injured.
“Mother.” My voice was clipped. “What happened?”
She turned her head slowly, looking surprised, as if she hadn’t expected me to come. A thin smile played at her lips before she sighed and shifted, resting her hand delicately over her bandaged arm.
“Oh, Kane,” she said in that soft, lilting tone she used when she wanted sympathy. “It’s nothing, truly. A maid, a careless, thoughtless girl, nearly poured scalding water on me.” She paused, letting the statement linger as her eyes went wide with mock horror.
“I slipped, trying to avoid the burn, and hurt my arm.”
I leaned back against the doorframe, frowning.
“So you slipped. The maid didn’t actually harm you.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, sensing my lack of concern.
“If she hadn’t been so incompetent, I wouldn’t have slipped at all. She should know better than to be so reckless.” Zelda raised her chin, glancing at her bandaged arm as though the pain had only now begun to matter.
“The staff here, they lack discipline. It’s high time something was done about it.”
“So you want the maids dismissed?” I asked, watching her closely. This was more than irritation; Zelda didn’t show vulnerability unless it served her purpose.
She clicked her tongue, clearly displeased by my indifference.
“It’s not just about the mistake, Kane. This is about respect, discipline, and ensuring the safety of our household.” She adjusted her posture, eyes glinting. “What I want is for you to recognize that these mishaps put us at risk. They’re a sign of weakness. We should replace them with those who understand their roles. You are not just any Alpha, Kane. You are the Lycan King, and they need to remember that.”
I crossed my arms, unmoved.
“If I dismissed every servant who made a mistake, there’d be no one left to run this place. One accident isn’t cause for a purge.”
Her face hardened at my response, but she leaned forward, her gaze intent.
“This isn’t about one accident. This is about preserving what’s ours.”
Her words twisted my insides with pure irritation. “Preserving what, exactly?”
She let her gaze soften, feigning an unreadable vulnerability.
“Things have changed around here. Ever since that girl, Catherine, arrived. The entire atmosphere has shifted.” She paused, letting her words sink in. “i don't know why, but her presence here is starting to affect everyone. It's like they don't want her as their queen.”
My jaw clenched. “Leave Catherine out of this. She has nothing to do with the staff.”
Zelda let out a long, dramatic sigh.
“It’s not only the staff. I’ve noticed it in you, too. Your focus has wavered, Kane. You’re not yourself.”
I stepped forward, my voice low. “Careful, Mother.”
But she merely smiled. “Oh, my son. I only worry for you. It’s my duty, after all, to protect you.” Her hand drifted to her bandaged arm. “If only you saw how this negligence, these distractions, threaten everything we’ve built.”
The irritation simmered again, her words creeping under my skin. I forced my voice into a steady tone.
“I appreciate the concern, but the staff is fine as they are.”
She tilted her head, studying me with that calculating gaze.
“Sometimes I wonder if you’ve forgotten who you are. You’re the Lycan King. You can’t allow anyone, or anything, to distract you from what truly matters.”
Sitting across from my mother, I did my best to listen, or at least appear to. But my focus kept slipping to the dark stain creeping across the white bandage wrapped around her arm.
The scent of blood, sharp and metallic, wouldn't leave my mind and that was all I could focus on. I tried to ignore it, but my beast stirred, its presence scraping against my control like claws on stone.
“She’s hurt,” it growled angrily. “And you’re just sitting here, doing nothing?”
I forced my jaw to relax, dismissing it. “It’s a scratch, nothing more. She’ll be fine.”
The beast didn’t buy it. It rarely left me alone for long, always waiting for moments like this, when the scent of blood was thick in the air.
“If it’s nothing, why is she bleeding so much?” it hissed, almost gleeful.
My gaze dropped again to the blood seeping through the bandage, each pulse stirring something deeper in me that I’d fought so hard to keep buried. The beast leaned closer, pressing against my restraint, tempting me with the simplicity of surrender.
“Take a closer look, Kane,” it urged, its voice a mocking caress. One step, one touch, you’d know exactly how it feels.
I gritted my teeth, ignoring the flare of heat at its words. Control, I reminded myself. This was my mother sitting here, not some prey to be indulged upon. Yet my beast seemed to revel in my struggle.
“Mother or not,” it whispered, “blood is blood. And you crave it, don’t you?”
My hands clenched, nails biting into my palms, grounding me with the sting.
“Enough,” I snarled inwardly. But the beast scoffed, delighted by my resistance.
“You’re barely holding it together,” it jeered. “You think you have control? Let me out, Kane, Let me take over”.
I felt my grip on control slipping as blood trickling from my palms as I dug my nails deeper. Pain had always been an anchor, a way to keep my mind clear, but today it barely seemed enough.
My pulse pounded, urging me closer to that thin line between restraint and release. But I wouldn’t let it happen. Not here. Not now.
“She not a prey” I pushed back, steadying my breath. “I won’t let you ruin this.”
The beast only laughed, a low, dark rumble that rattled through my thoughts, hungry and expectant.
“Keep pretending,” it taunted. “Keep fighting. But soon, Kane, you’ll give in. And when you do, you’ll know true freedom.”
Ignoring the whispered threat, I fixed my gaze on my mother, who was still speaking, her words a faint, sounding less important to me. Her voice faded against the roar of my beast’s hunger.
But I tightened my fists, forcing myself to focus, grounding myself in defiance. I would not let it win. Not today.