Chapter 125 125
Venessa’s POV
Fabian’s head had been lodged so far up his own arse that he’d forgotten exactly who he was and where he stood.
It was time someone reminded him.
There were no black veins crawling from the corners of his eyes, no visible sign of Eshera’s corruption, but I doubted it would take her influence to turn him. He was already steeped in everything corruption represented. Eshera would merely be polishing what was already rotten.
The dinner party drained what little energy I had left. The moment my body met the mattress, sleep claimed me without resistance.
The next day was spent with my father and the elders. They guided Denzel and me through the administrative processes paperwork, procedures, formalities. I found it painfully tedious. What made it worse was the bitter knowledge that I wouldn’t even be around long enough to see any of it through. That realization cracked something deep in my chest, leaving me aching and unsure how to cope.
Telling my father the truth would crush the fight still burning inside him, and I couldn’t do that to him. Not now. Not when our people needed him to keep pushing, to keep believing.
Dinner passed quietly that night. Denzel and I retired early, wanting time alone before the storm that awaited us. Alphas from different packs had already begun arriving in the Lycan Kingdom, and by morning, the meeting I’d summoned would begin.
This wasn’t going to be a discussion. We were far beyond that.
I intended to speak sense into their thick skulls and issue directives they would follow whether they liked it or not. I’d learned quickly that most of them only respected strength. My father, weakened by illness, could no longer offer that firmness. But he had placed the mantle on me with a graceful finality, and I intended to rule with a tight, unyielding hand.
Still, caution lingered. Eshera had boasted that she held the hearts of kings, and I would not underestimate that claim.
Though my wolf and Atabey were one and the same, I prayed silently for patience, for wisdom, and for courage to face what was coming.
The thought of Fabian and those who stood behind him made my skin prickle with unease. I hated confrontation. I despised arguing and countering others’ actions. But Fabian was different. With him, readiness was not optional it was survival.
The moment we stepped into our room, a knock sounded at the door. Denzel crossed the room and opened it.
Rayon stepped inside, exhaustion etched into his features. I frowned slightly, wondering where he’d disappeared to all day. I knew he’d attended my coronation, but he’d remained unnervingly quiet. After breakfast with the king and elders that morning, he’d vanished entirely until now.
“May I have a word with you, Denzel?” he asked.
Denzel glanced at me.
“Say it in Venessa’s presence,” he replied evenly. “I have nothing to hide.”
I saw it immediately Rayon hadn’t wanted that. His gaze flicked to me, then back to Denzel. Whatever he communicated without words made Denzel’s eyes widen in shock. My stomach tightened. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good.
Rayon shook his head slightly, signaling that this was a conversation I wasn’t meant to hear.
“I’m right here,” I said sharply, frustration slipping into my voice.
Denzel looked at me again, and then Rayon turned and left the room without another word.
Denzel dropped into a squat in front of me, his hands resting on his knees, his gaze steady but heavy.
“Your mother’s pack was attacked by those things,” he said softly. “Your uncle is in critical condition. They don’t know if he’ll survive. Unlike what happened to us, the attackers used silver weapons.”
The world tilted.
Silent tears slid down my cheeks as his words settled into me. How many losses was I meant to endure? I’d planned to visit my uncle the next day. Now—now my mother’s only sibling might be gone before I ever reached him.
I broke.
I wept into Denzel’s chest, my grief raw and unrestrained. I cried because it was too much. Because time was already slipping through my fingers, and I didn’t even feel entitled to say goodbye to the people I loved. I hadn’t known Alpha Gordon well, but I’d wanted the chance to connect, to acknowledge the bond we shared.
“Please… save him,” I whispered inwardly to my wolf, knowing Atabey could hear me too.
Silence answered.
“You use me when it suits your games,” I said desperately, anxiety clawing at my chest. “But you won’t grant me this one wish or even tell me you won’t?”
Nyla whimpered softly inside my mind.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she finally replied, her voice layered with Atabey’s presence. “Now that I’m in the flesh, my abilities are limited but I will try.”
I cried harder. Trying wasn’t the same as doing.
Denzel held me through the night, and I let him. I needed his arms, his warmth, his steadiness. Exhaustion eventually pulled me under.
When I woke the next morning, Denzel was already awake smiling.
I frowned slightly, confused. Perhaps he was trying to lift my spirits after the news about my uncle.
“Good morning, my love,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss me.
I returned it softly.
He helped me out of bed and guided me toward the bathroom, his hands gentle as he helped me slip out of my nightgown.
“What’s the occasion?” I asked, suspicious now.
“Your uncle pulled through in the early hours of the morning,” he said.
Joy crashed into me like a wave. I didn’t even realize I was crying until tears of happiness spilled freely down my face.
“They said it was a miracle,” Denzel added.
I didn’t need to ask who had made it possible.
“It was the least I could do for all your sacrifices,” Atabey said through Nyla.
Gratitude flooded my soul, lightening a weight I hadn’t realized was crushing me. My spirit lifted, hope blooming anew and for that, I was endlessly thankful.