Chapter 92 92
Venessa’s POV
“My parents wouldn’t allow it. I asked for a divorce, but they refused because Rochelle was the daughter of my father’s beta. I was ordered to reject Danisha but I couldn’t. Instead, I accepted her. She became pregnant with you.”
King Jamar’s voice trembled, heavy with regret.
“When my father discovered the truth, he was furious. By then, I was already King, and he no longer held power, yet Danisha was still treating his illness. To rid himself of her, he accused her of poisoning him with her herbs. She was found guilty and sentenced to death.”
My breath caught.
“So I did the only thing I could to save her,” he continued. “I exiled her and sent her back to her brother. I rejected her so she could move on so she could live freely. This necklace…” He lifted it with trembling hands. “It was my farewell gift.”
Tears streamed freely now.
“I begged her to return once my father died. She promised she would but she never came home. I tried reaching her through Alpha Gordon, but he never responded. I have been searching for her ever since.”
His gaze settled on me.
“That explains your Lycan aura. Your features.”
I was still reeling from the truth, barely able to breathe.
“Do you recognize the Lycans who killed her?” he asked, fury blazing in his eyes.
I shook my head.
“They were sent by Queen Rochelle,” Denzel said immediately.
King Jamar stiffened.
“Recently, Venessa was kidnapped by Beta Jahlil Wright,” Denzel continued. “He intended to kill her, but she convinced him that Danisha was not her mother, and he let her go. I informed Queen Rochelle, but she didn’t want you to know.”
King Jamar’s face darkened.
“Now I understand why. While you were searching for your heir, she was doing the same except she was trying to kill her. And they would have succeeded if Venessa hadn’t escaped.”
The King rose suddenly, a low growl tearing from his chest. His rage was terrifying raw, unchecked. Then, just as quickly, he collapsed to his knees.
He clutched the necklace, sobbing.
“Jamar and Danisha forever,” he whispered. “I made it just for her.”
His shoulders shook violently.
“My father destroyed my life because he believed a Lycan and a werewolf should never mate,” he cried.
Without thinking, I left Denzel’s side and went to him. My body moved before my mind could catch up.
I hadn’t even begun to process what had just been revealed.
I had found my father and he was the Lycan King.
I was the heir he had been searching for all along. Suddenly, everything made sense why I was sent back, why events had unfolded the way they had. If I was the rightful heir, perhaps war could be avoided altogether.
Under different circumstances, I would have been furious. Furious that he hadn’t protected the woman he claimed to love. Furious that he hadn’t searched harder or acted sooner.
But that anger no longer mattered.
I didn’t have the luxury of time to rage, to grieve, to unravel my feelings. I had to let go of the resentment I carried toward the man who had loved my mother yet failed to save her.
King Jamar pulled me into his arms, holding me so tightly it stole my breath.
“I am so sorry, Venessa,” he sobbed. “I failed you. I failed Danisha. Please forgive me.”
I didn’t know how to respond.
What would he do when he discovered the truth that I was already dead, living on borrowed time? That I had been sent back only to correct a wrong before my soul moved on?
That he had mere months to build memories with me?
That I could never succeed him the way he hoped?
The weight of it crushed my chest.
But he deserved the truth. I had to prepare him for my departure.
He held me close, kissed my forehead, and wept.
“My child. My daughter.”
After a long while, he finally released me.
“Princess Venessa Morrison,” he declared.
The name echoed in my mind.
My real name.
I turned to Denzel and found him smiling.
“Why are you smiling?” I asked.
“That’s why our rejection never worked,” he said gently. “Venessa Gordon was never your real name.”
My eyes widened.
“Rejection?” King Jamar asked sharply.
I looked at Denzel. He shook his head instantly but it was too late.
“Please don’t report me to your father, Venessa,” Denzel teased.
Laughter broke the tension, spilling from all of us.
“I suppose the Lycan and werewolf union is here to stay,” King Jamar said knowingly.
I understood why.
Because of me.
Because of Denzel.
“I can’t wait to crown you my princess, my heir,” he continued. “Once my treatment is complete, we’ll return home. I know you’re a married woman, but surely Denzel won’t mind you spending time with your father.”
I knew better.
“How about we all spend time with you?” Denzel offered.
The King beamed.
He pulled me into another embrace, and my mind spun. I still couldn’t comprehend it.
I was a princess.
The princess.
The rightful heir to the Lycan throne.
I remembered every time Jalisa had forced me to call her Your Highness.
To think her royalty had been an illusion.
I laughed softly at the memory as my father hugged me so tightly I thought I might lose the ability to breathe.