164

164


I fell to my knees, my breath caught in my throat as I stared at my father’s lifeless body slumped over his throne. The sight was both surreal and inevitable, a moment I had imagined but never truly prepared for. Kenzo stood beside me, his presence steady, his gaze unreadable.

He crouched down, resting a firm hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right?”

A bitter laugh almost escaped me. “I... I don’t know,” I murmured. Then, turning the question back on him, I asked, “Are you?”

The whirlwind of emotions inside me was impossible to untangle. Some I could name—relief, anger, confusion—but others lurked in the shadows of my mind, unspoken and unresolved. I wouldn’t have blamed Kenzo if frustration gnawed at him. After all, in the end, he hadn’t been the one to deliver the final blow to avenge his father.

When our eyes met, I saw the storm raging within him—anger and relief intertwined in a dangerous dance.

“Someone must have hated him even more than I did,” he muttered, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Cassius Marwood destroyed too many lives,” I replied, my voice detached, as if speaking of a stranger rather than my own flesh and blood. “He finally angered someone powerful enough to put an end to him.” I shrugged, feigning indifference, though the weight in my chest told another story.

“At least he can’t hurt you anymore.” Kenzo’s expression softened as he extended his hand to help me up.

I hesitated before grasping it, forcing down the unease clawing at my insides. “At least he admitted I had my mother’s eyes,” I said, a hollow chuckle escaping me. “Though, of course, he despised being reminded of her every time he looked at me—his own blood, something he loathed.”

Kenzo squeezed my hand, his grip grounding me. “He was a monster. Don’t let his poison linger in your mind. He’s gone, and our Goddess knows how special you are.”

As he guided me out of the throne hall, his voice turned contemplative. “By the way, do you know who he meant when he spoke of a child?”

I frowned. “No idea.”

Kenzo’s brow furrowed. “Did your father have any other children?”

I met his gaze without hesitation. “If he had a child strong enough to challenge him, he would have paraded them before the world with pride.”

Kenzo exhaled, his smile wry. “I suppose you’re right. Maybe it was someone he treated like his child…”

“Maybe.” But I had no interest in lingering on that thought—not now, not when the air in that place felt suffocating.

I turned and walked away, my steps quickening until they became a run. Past the pack warriors, past the Royal Army soldiers still combing through the wreckage of my father’s reign. Only when I burst into the open air did my lungs expand fully, as if I had been drowning and had just now broken through the surface.

The garden was in ruins, but I searched for a patch of earth untouched by blood. I found one and stood there, drawing in deep, shaking breaths. The sun was high overhead, its light almost unbearable. I dropped my gaze to the ground, and that’s when I saw them—drops of water splattering onto my boots.

I was crying.

I hadn’t even noticed when the tears had started. They fell freely now, carrying with them everything I had bottled up—pain, relief, exhaustion. It wasn’t just my father’s death I mourned. It was the weight of everything that had led to this moment, the years of torment finally collapsing in on themselves.

Eventually, the tears dried, as if my body had decided it had purged enough. But the momentary calm didn’t last. As soon as my mind cleared, it began piecing together the puzzle, and with that came a fresh wave of unease.

I was certain—beyond any doubt—that EH had been there. His presence had clung to the air, unmistakable. It only made sense that he was the one who had killed my father. But why?

Had my father known him?

His last words haunted me. His child had come to kill him.

I knew he hadn’t been talking about me. That much was clear. So who was this “child” who had hated him enough to tear him apart?

EH was an enigma. He had challenged Hadrian, commanded an army of dangerous degenerates, and somehow had a connection to my father. And for reasons I still didn’t understand—he was interested in me.

Then, suddenly, another memory surfaced. EH’s last message. His warning.

Stay away from the Southern Moon Pack territory.

Had he been planning this all along? Had he warned me because he knew that if I interfered, he would have had to kill me too?

My chest tightened. God... I wish Hadrian was here…

The thought slipped out before I could stop it, raw and unfiltered. My mind clung to him, the one person I had once trusted beyond all reason. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I wanted him near.

I had run to Kenzo, made reckless choices, sought comfort in the wrong arms—but now, my heart ached for the one I had left behind.

A fracture had formed between Kenzo and me, a crack I could no longer ignore. Hazel’s words had planted a seed of doubt, and now it was spreading, twisting its way through my thoughts. Was everything Kenzo had told me just a carefully spun lie?

I needed something—anything—to prove we were truly fated. But there was nothing. No irrefutable sign, no undeniable pull. And it was driving me insane.

Even worse, I was beginning to suspect that the Blue Moon Pack was keeping secrets from me. That realization gnawed at me until a dangerous thought took root—Bopha.

She hated me enough to spill everything if she thought it would wound me. Perhaps that was what I needed.

Because I knew this much: with the southern packs conquered, Kenzo would claim his title as King of Wolves. And when he did, he would expect me to stand beside him as his Queen.

But I wasn’t ready. Not yet.

Not unless he could give me a reason to trust him again. Not unless he could make me believe—without a shadow of doubt—that we were meant to be.

I had been hiding in the gardens for quite some time, but I knew it was time to return. As I made my way to the entrance of the residence, a vast assembly of vampires and wolves had already gathered in the open space before the mansion. The warriors stood in rigid formation, all facing the entrance, while Kenzo stood at the forefront, exuding the confidence of a victorious Alpha—the conqueror of the South.

The moment he saw me, his eyes brightened, and he gestured for me to stand beside him. Uncertainty flickered within me, but I was too emotionally drained to resist or confront anything just yet. I only hoped he wouldn’t make any declarations without my consent. As I stepped closer, he seized my hand. I forced a nervous smile and gently slipped free from his grasp. His frown deepened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, Icarus stepped between us, clearing his throat with deliberate emphasis.

Kenzo clicked his tongue in irritation, exhaling sharply before turning his attention back to the warriors.

“Warriors,” he declared, his voice steady and commanding. “The South is ours!”

A thunderous wave of cheers erupted in response, fists raised in triumphant celebration.

Kenzo smirked at me before continuing, “And I am honored to share this victory with the woman who will soon be my queen!”

My breath hitched.

“What?!” I snapped, my voice drowned out by the deafening shouts of the jubilant crowd.

Rage flared within me. How dare he announce something so significant without my consent? My hands curled into fists, ready to strike him, but before I could act, Icarus caught my wrist, stopping me. I shot him a glare, but he merely responded with a knowing smile before subtly nodding toward the ranks of the Royal Army.

A murmur of unrest began at the back of the crowd, rippling forward like a slow-building storm. My heart pounded.

The soldiers shifted, parting in reverence as a figure moved toward us.

I gasped, my breath catching in my throat. My heart pounded erratically, my body trembling as emotions crashed over me. He was alive.

Hadrian was alive.

He moved through the crowd like a force of nature, soldiers bowing to him, voices rising in a reverent chant of his name. Clad in the same battle-worn attire as his men, he was nonetheless unmistakable—his presence alone was commanding, powerful. And when his gaze locked onto Kenzo, it was filled with unbridled fury.

I turned to Icarus, seeking some kind of explanation, but he simply observed the scene with his usual unreadable expression.

Kenzo frowned, his irritation evident. No doubt, having his moment of triumph stolen was infuriating him—but there was something more in Hadrian’s anger. Something deeper.

Without hesitation, Hadrian closed the distance and struck Kenzo with a single, devastating blow.

The world stilled.

For a heartbeat, silence reigned.

Kenzo recovered instantly, leaping to his feet with a snarl, his fist raised to retaliate.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Gareth interjected smoothly, stepping between them with an amused chuckle. Then, with a snap of his fingers, two Royal Army soldiers emerged, dragging a struggling woman forward. She was shoved to her knees before Hadrian and Kenzo.

Kenzo went rigid.

“Who the hell is she?” I whispered to Icarus, my unease growing.

“See for yourself,” he murmured, motioning for me to step forward.

Hesitantly, I moved closer, my chest tightening at the sight of Hadrian and Gareth standing side by side. Relief and disbelief warred within me—I had thought them lost. Now, they stood before me, very much alive.

Tears burned behind my eyes, my lips parting in a trembling smile. I couldn’t bring myself to meet Hadrian’s gaze, so I turned to Gareth instead. He grinned at me in that infuriatingly smug way of his.

Then, my attention drifted to the kneeling woman, and a chill ran down my spine.

I knew her.

With her thick, dark eyebrows, piercing eyes, and strong jawline, she was unmistakable. I inhaled sharply, letting my senses confirm what my eyes already knew. The scent was the same—the scent of the intruder who had broken into my hotel room.

“How did you find her?” I asked, my voice unsteady as I looked to Gareth.

Gareth smirked, tilting his chin toward Icarus. “Commander Kroos did.”

Icarus gave a slight nod, confirming Gareth’s words, though it only deepened the questions swirling in my mind. What was going on? Why had Hadrian attacked Kenzo?

“Speak,” Gareth commanded the woman.

The she-wolf lifted her terrified gaze to mine, her voice trembling as she spoke.

“My name is Olivia. I was an IT specialist in the Moon Valley Pack… Alpha Kenzo approached me, knowing I had expertise with surveillance technology. He asked me to plant a tracking device in Ms. Thalassa’s phone…”

A sickening wave of realization crashed over me.

Kenzo had been listening. To everything.

Every conversation. Every vulnerable moment. Had he manipulated the messages I had received?

Instinctively, my gaze sought Hadrian’s. He was already watching me.

Before I could say a word, he stepped forward, his hand closing around mine with firm certainty.

“Just to be clear, my love,” he murmured, his voice a deep, commanding force that left no room for doubt. His eyes burned into mine, holding me captive in his unwavering stare. “I never slept with Selene. And if she is pregnant, the child is most certainly not mine.”