Chapter 88 Don't Apologize
Vuk Kael Lasković
“I’m—”
“Please don’t apologize to me again.” I set the plates of pancakes down in front of her. “Okay… now eat.”
She let out a small, resigned sigh and picked up her fork, finally digging in.
I watched her for a moment. “Do you feel up to it today?”
“Up to what?”
“Your office. The divorce matters—you’re taking point on them now.”
She paused mid-bite. “Oh. Right. Livia mentioned it once… so it’s today.”
“Yes, sweetheart.” I lifted my black coffee, took a careful sip, and winced as the scalding liquid burned down my throat. I cleared it quietly.
Little Moon’s eyes flicked up to me. “Why do you look so pale, Vuk?”
I raised an eyebrow, caught off guard. “Me? Probably just stress.” The words came out too fast. Before she could press, I stood, leaned over the table, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead—my quiet ritual, my luck charm for the day ahead.
“I love you, Vuk Kael Lasković,” she murmured against my skin.
“I love you too, Little Moon.” I straightened, brushing a thumb along her cheek. “Now go have a good day, my queen.”
I gave her a small wave and left the dining room.
The moment I stepped into the corridor, a faint, sour trace of black magic brushed my senses—like smoke that wasn’t there. My skin prickled; the fine hairs on my arms stood up. I turned sharply, inhaling deeper, trying to chase the scent, but it had already dissolved into nothing. After a few seconds I forced myself to exhale and move on. Not now.
Outside, the black SUV waited, engine idling low. I slid into the back seat and tapped the divider once.
The black SUV eased away from the house, engine settling into its quiet rumble. I leaned back, arms folded, watching the world slide past the tinted glass in soft grays and muted greens.
Forty minutes of road ahead. Plenty of time to think it through again.
I had an important project I wanted to acquire. Gods… I hope I get it.
A land, not just any land. The land in the center of the Northern Dominion.
That central land in the Northern Land wasn’t just any patch. It sat where the energies gathered thick and clean.
Pure power, steady, the kind that could make every lesson sharper, every spell hold firmer, every mind clearer. Build an academy there and it wouldn’t just be walls and roofs; it would breathe strength into whoever walked its halls.
Open to all spiritual beings, witches, shifters, elementals, anyone with the spark and the will to learn. No old grudges barring the doors. A place to train the next ones right.
Mostly, though, it was for my kids. Three of them already here, growing fast, carrying that special hybrid blood—one of a kind, fierce and rare. They’d become a force if guided well. Investing in a school like this… one of the wisest things I could do. Give them a foundation that matched their potential.
I stared out the window, jaw tight. The family of the Black Knight guarded that land like it was part of their own souls. Old witches, deep-rooted, proud. They might hear me out. They might not. But I had to try.
The gates rose ahead—tall ironwork traced with faint, pulsing wards. The house beyond was sturdy stone, half-covered in vines that shifted like they were listening. Three figures stood on the wide steps: the man of the house, tall and silver-threaded in his dark hair, carrying the weight of old spells in his stance; his wife beside him, graceful in black robes that seemed to drink the light; their daughter a quiet presence just inside the doorway.
I stepped out. The air here felt alive—charged, scented with earth and faint herbs.
The man spoke first, calm but watchful. “Vuk Kael Lasković. We did not expect such a visitor today.”
I inclined my head, keeping my tone even. “I appreciate you receiving me without warning. I come with respect for your line and what you’ve guarded.”
His wife’s eyes flicked over me, assessing. “Respect is noted. What brings the Alpha Devil to our threshold?”
I took a breath, starting slow. “Your family has held this place for generations. The wards here are old and strong—I can feel them even from the gate. The Northern Land is vast, but your corner holds something rare. The energies that pool in the central land… they’re clean. Amplifying. I’ve felt it from afar.”
The man’s brow lifted slightly. “You speak of our heartland.”
“I do,” I said. “Not to claim it by right or force. I come to ask if there’s a way we might reach terms.”
His wife crossed her arms lightly. “Terms for what, exactly?”
I met their gazes one after the other. “To build there. An academy. A school open to every spiritual lineage—no bloodline turned away. The natural power in that ground would make the teaching deeper, the growth surer. For the young especially. For the ones who come after us.”
Silence hung for a moment. The man studied me like he was reading an old grimoire. “You rule wide reaches already. Why seek this one place?”
“I want something that lasts beyond my name. A place where knowledge is shared, not hoarded. Where the next generation can stand stronger together.”
The man exchanged a long look with his wife. Then he spoke the counter I’d half-expected.
“There is one way the land might pass to you. Our daughter. Take her as wife. Bind our line to yours. Alliance, not conquest.”
The refusal came steady, absolute. “No.”
His wife let out a quiet breath—relief, I thought.
The man tilted his head. “You answer without hesitation.”
“I have a wife,” I said simply. “One bond. One heart. I will not take another. Not for land. Not for any academy, no matter the good it could bring.”
The air thickened with unspoken weight. The man’s voice lowered. “You speak like a man who values what he has more than what he could gain.”
“I do,” I told him. “If there’s no other path, then we part with respect intact.”
He nodded once, slow. “The land answers only to our blood. There is no other path.”
I turned to go.
A soft step from the doorway. Their daughter stepped forward—tall like her mother, dark hair catching the ward-light, eyes calm and direct. She dipped her head.
“Alpha,” she said quietly. “Is that central land truly so vital to your vision?”
I looked at her. “It is. The academy could give the young ones a better start. Could help shape what comes next.”
She held my gaze, then smiled—small, real. “You’re such an awesome husband. Loyal like few are. I hope your return is safe.”
I gave her a nod of genuine thanks and walked back to the SUV.
The drive stretched long. No anger. Just resolve burning steady.
Reen Academy would rise. Somewhere. Somehow. Without breaking vows or hearts.
My kids deserved that future.
I inclined my head in thanks and continued down to the waiting SUV.
The drive home passed in silence. The faint sour trace of black magic lingered at the edges of my awareness again, but I pushed it aside.
Little Moon first.
I entered the judgment hall quietly, taking position at the far end of the chamber where shadows clung thickest. She sat elevated on the carved seat of authority, regal even in the simple dark robes of office. Before her stood a nobleman—round-bellied, red-faced—and beside him, a woman whose eyes were downcast.
“I want a divorce, my queen…” the woman said, voice steady despite the tremble in her hands.
“And why is that?” Little Moon asked, calm as still water.
“He hits me.”
The man spat on the polished floor. “And she’s a whore!”
I raised an eyebrow, arms crossed, content to watch.
To my surprise—and quiet pride—Little Moon rose. She descended the steps with measured grace, stopped directly before the man, and delivered a single, resounding slap across his face.
The crack echoed through the hall.
He opened his mouth—whether to roar or curse, I never learned—because she slapped him again, harder.
“That’s for spitting in my presence,” she said, voice low and lethal. “You will do no such thing again. Do you understand?”
The man’s mouth worked soundlessly. He nodded, stunned.
Little Moon turned to the woman. “Your petition is granted. You will have protection, resources, and dist
ance. He will not touch you again. If he tries, he answers to me personally.”
The woman’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, my queen.”