Chapter 81 81
Venessa’s POV
The Lycan Kingdom was magnificent.
I had never seen anything like it in my life. Its grandeur pressed in from every side, from the towering structures to the effortless authority carried by those who lived within its walls. I couldn’t help but think of my mother how small and out of place she must have felt when she first arrived here to serve as their healer.
I wondered, not for the first time, what crime she had committed to deserve the fate she’d been handed.
I looked like them dark hair, dark eyes, features that blended seamlessly with theirs yet I felt inferior all the same. They regarded me with respect, but it did nothing to quiet the unease curling in my chest.
The women were strikingly beautiful, the men impossibly handsome.
And still, none of them compared to my Denzel.
When Denzel told me we would be dining with the Queen, nerves had twisted my stomach into knots. I was the daughter of the woman they had hunted down and killed. They had tried to kill me as well. The entire situation promised nothing but tension.
When we entered the dining hall and I saw the man who had kidnapped me who had nearly ended my life I had to point him out to Denzel.
It was then I realized just how much power Denzel truly wielded.
Watching him face the Queen, bend her will without raising his voice, force her to yield with nothing but authority and precision it stunned me. She caved completely.
Beta Jahlil glared at me with open resentment.
I didn’t care.
With Denzel beside me, I felt untouchable. Like nothing in this world could reach me. I understood then why Jalisa had clung to being his wife even after discovering her fated mate was his Beta. Being his Luna was power. It was protection.
When I thought about Jalisa and Tyrell, anger flared in my chest. Their stupidity astounded me. If they had simply been honest with Denzel from the beginning, they would still be together and Tyrell would have remained Beta.
The fact that the goddess needed them alive for what was coming made me furious.
My vision resurfaced in my mind, sharp and cruel.
Fabian had killed Jalisa and Tyrell after they disposed of me.
They had been expendable. Tools. Means to an end.
All Fabian had ever wanted was control of Denzel’s army and he got it. The largest army among the packs was invaluable. Realizing Jalisa was the bastard child of his wife explained everything. He had never treated her like a daughter. He had treated her like dirt.
I pushed the thoughts aside. All I could do now was hope they stayed out of trouble while we worked to prevent what lay ahead.
Denzel and I were then escorted to the King’s chambers.
The room was breathtaking.
Massive. Elegant. Every piece of wooden furniture bore intricate carvings, each one a work of art. The paintings lining the walls were grand and masterfully done. The curtains were heavy with rich embroidery, authentic and regal.
There was nothing ordinary about the room.
It radiated power. Class.
My gaze fell on the man lying in the bed. He was undeniably handsome, but illness had hollowed him out. He looked fragile like a man already halfway gone.
That’s him, Nyla said quietly. The one I saw.
My heart skipped. Are you certain? I asked, knowing there was no room for error. He wasn’t just any man he was the Lycan King. One wrong step here could destroy us.
I’m sure, Venessa. Trust me.
I immediately linked Denzel.
“Are you sure?” he asked, echoing my own fear.
“Yes,” I assured him.
It still amazed me how easily he believed me how willing he was to help without question. This Denzel was nothing like the man from my past life.
The Denzel I’d known before had silenced me. Mocked me. Accused me of scheming to become his Luna. He had broken me.
This Denzel was patient. Honorable. Kind. Willing to listen.
It struck me then how vital every single life truly was how even the smallest shift could change the course of everything.
Rayon’s survival alone had altered so much.
He hadn’t needed to do anything extraordinary. Just existing had reshaped fate.
The King motioned for Denzel to come closer, and Denzel gestured for me to join him. A couch sat beside the bed an odd placement, but clearly meant to help the King receive visitors. We sat together.
“Your Majesty,” Denzel said, “this is my fated mate and my Luna Venessa Shaw.”
Hearing his surname attached to my name sent warmth through my chest.
The King squinted, then smiled faintly. “A Lycan?” he asked between coughs.
Denzel shook his head. “A werewolf, Your Majesty.”
The respect in his tone was unmistakable. The difference in how he addressed this King compared to any other was clear. He held the man in high regard. And the King, in turn, seemed fond of him.
“Come closer, my dear,” the King said, extending trembling hands toward me.
He wasn’t old but sickness had aged him cruelly, slowing his body’s ability to heal itself. I moved closer, and he pulled me into a gentle embrace.
“Welcome to the family, young lady,” he said softly. “Fate has blessed you with a good man.”
I smiled at him, my heart aching in ways I couldn’t yet explain.