Chapter 180 CHAPTER 180
The back room of the pub was low-ceilinged and dim, the afternoon light barely slipping through the narrow slits in the shutters. The noise of the main bar filtered through the thick wooden door in muted waves, but none of it reached the center of the room where two men sat across from each other at a scarred wooden table.
Inside, Darius Ashvale, Ethan’s exiled uncle, leaned back in his chair as if he owned the shadows themselves.
His features bore the unmistakable line of the Ashvale bloodline - sharp cheekbones, steady eyes, and a quiet authority that did not need a crown to announce itself.
Two of his guards stood outside the door in the narrow hallway, positioned in such a way that anyone approaching would be seen long before they reached it.
Across from him sat Elder Vaughn of Mooncrest.
Vaughn’s hands rested flat on the table, but they were not entirely steady. He told himself it was because of the secrecy of the meeting, not the man sitting opposite him.
Darius studied him for a long moment before speaking.
“Well,” he said calmly, “tell me how my nephew is managing the kingdom.”
Vaughn cleared his throat. “He is managing,” he replied carefully.
Darius gave a faint smile. “That was not what I asked.”
The elder hesitated only briefly before leaning forward.
“He is breaking,” Vaughn said quietly. “The crown is heavier than they anticipated.”
Darius’s expression did not change, but his eyes sharpened slightly. “Explain.”
“He has recently discovered that his parents were not the innocent victims he believed them to be,” Vaughn continued. “
Darius exhaled slowly through his nose. “They stripped him of truth and called it protection.”
“They thought they were sparing him trauma,” Vaughn replied.
“They robbed him of strength,” Darius corrected.
He leaned forward now, resting his elbows on the table.
“And how did he respond?”
Vaughn’s eyes flickered briefly to the door before returning. “He is not okay. His wolf nearly tore the Silverpine elders into pieces. He couldn’t control his rage. Lora had to intervene.”
Darius laughed softly, the sound low and almost satisfied.
“I knew this day would come,” he said. “They believed removing his parents’ guilt would create a stable king. Instead, they created a fragile one. A ruler who built his identity on false foundations.”
“He is unstable,” Vaughn admitted. “He tries to appear composed, but the cracks are visible.”
Darius leaned back again, folding his arms across his chest. “And they denied me the throne for that.”
Vaughn did not respond immediately.
“They said you were reckless,” he said at last. “That the kingdom could not survive under a ruler already marked by scandal.”
“Scandal,” Darius repeated, the word tasting bitter on his tongue. “My father called it criminal activity.”
Vaughn shifted slightly. “Human trafficking is not a minor offense, Darius.”
Darius’s gaze hardened.
“It was a trade arrangement,” he said evenly. “One poorly executed. I was young. Ambitious. Expanding influence beyond Mooncrest’s borders. My father reacted as though I had burned the city down myself.”
“He exiled you, it was justified.” Vaughn said.
“He disowned me,” Darius corrected. “There is a difference.”
The room fell silent for a moment.
“My brother dies,” Darius continued, his voice steady, “and instead of recalling his eldest son, the council leaves the throne to a grieving boy. They said I was unfit. They said the bloodline required purity.”
“You were already cast out,” Vaughn said. “The council did not recognize you as heir.”
“I was born of Ashvale blood,” Darius said quietly. “Disowned or not, that does not change.”
His gaze locked onto Vaughn’s.
“I will always be royal.”
Vaughn nodded slowly. “I have never denied that.”
“You were there,” Darius said. “You saw how the council voted.”
“I did,” Vaughn replied. “And I believed then that perhaps they were right. Ethan was innocent. The people loved him. They needed something pure after the fire.”
“And now?” Darius asked.
Vaughn exhaled. “Now I believe purity is not the same as strength.”
A faint smile touched Darius’s lips.
“Good,” he said softly.
He reached for the tankard in front of him but did not drink. He simply turned it slowly against the wood.
“You said he nearly lost control over Silverpine.”
“Yes.”
“And Silverpine remains detained?”
“Yes. They await judgment.”
Darius’s eyes flickered thoughtfully.
“Good,” he murmured.
Vaughn frowned slightly. “Good?”
“Chaos breeds opportunity,” Darius said. “The king is distracted. The council divided. The packs unsettled. This is the moment I have waited for.”
Vaughn’s voice lowered. “Are you planning to move now?”
Darius looked at him steadily.
“What other time would you suggest?” he asked. “If we do not strike when the kingdom trembles, we may never have another chance.”
“You speak of striking,” Vaughn said carefully. “What exactly are you proposing?”
Darius’s expression cooled.
“I regret not killing the boy when he was still young,” he said, almost casually. “It would have been simpler.”
The words hung in the air, heavy but controlled.
“Now,” he continued, “it will require more precision.”
Vaughn swallowed, but he did not object.
“And Commander Liam?” Vaughn asked after a moment. “There are rumors. That he possesses powers. That he is more than a soldier. The king keeps it from the council.”
Darius waved a dismissive hand.
“Rumors grow in frightened minds,” he said. “Even if he possesses something unusual, it is nothing that cannot be managed. No single commander holds more power than a coordinated uprising.”
“You underestimate him,” Vaughn said quietly.
“I underestimate no one,” Darius replied. “But I refuse to build strategy around speculation.”
He leaned forward again.
“You will continue to feed me information. I want to know every shift in mood, every council decision, every guard rotation.”
Vaughn nodded. “You will have it.”
“And when this is over,” Darius added, his tone softening just enough to feel personal, “you will not regret your loyalty. You will have a place at my side when the throne is reclaimed.”
Vaughn’s eyes flickered with something that might have been ambition.
“And the Silverpine elders?” Vaughn asked as he pushed his chair back slightly.
Darius paused.
“Keep watching them,” he said. “Disgraced wolves can be useful. Shame makes men pliable.”
He rose from his seat.
“We do not know when they may serve a purpose.”
Vaughn stood as well.
Darius straightened, adjusting his coat.
“Go back to the palace. Wear your concern like a cloak. Speak of unity. Of healing. And listen.”
Vaughn nodded once.
As he reached the door, Darius spoke again.
“Vaughn.”
The elder turned.
“Do not mistake this for revenge,” Darius said. “This is correction.”
He allowed himself a faint smile.
“The throne was never meant for a grieving child.”
Vaughn held his gaze for a moment longer, then opened the door.
The guards straightened as he stepped into the corridor, and the muffled noise of the bar grew louder as the door closed behind him.
Darius remained alone in the dim room for several seconds.
Then he finally lifted the tankard to his lips.
The kingdom, he thought, was finally ready to be taken back.