The arrival of the Lycan King wasn’t announced with trumpets or fanfare. It was announced by the silence.
Two days after I screamed for help in the bathroom, clutching that wooden wolf until my palm bled, the forest went quiet. The birds stopped singing. The wind died down. It was as if nature itself was holding its breath, bowing to something far more ancient than an Alpha.
Roland was pacing in the foyer, adjusting his tie for the tenth time. "Why now?" he muttered, his anxiety rolling off him in waves of sour scent. "The Lycan King hasn't visited a pack in decades. Why the Blood River Pack? Why today?"
*If he finds out about the rogue deal... if he sees how weak the pack finances are... I'm ruined,* Roland’s wolf whined in my head. *Smile. Look strong. Don't let him smell the fear.*
I stood by the stairs, my hands clasped in front of me to hide their trembling. I wore a high-necked dress to cover the fading bruises on my neck, though nothing could cover the hollowness in my chest.
Then, the heavy oak doors swung open.
Matthias Graham filled the doorway. He was bigger than I remembered—broader, more imposing. His aura wasn't just power; it was gravity. He wore a simple black suit that looked like it cost more than our entire pack house, but his eyes... his eyes were the same wild amber I remembered from the rogue lands.
Roland stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Your Majesty. We are honored—"
Matthias didn't even look at him. His gaze swept the room, ignoring the bowing Deltas and the trembling Gammas, until it landed on me.
For a second, the air left the room.
*I heard you, Little Red,* his voice echoed in my mind. It wasn't like the intrusive, scratching noise of other wolves. It was deep, resonant, and shielded. *I'm here.*
I almost collapsed. It took every ounce of my willpower to offer a shaky curtsy instead of running into his arms. "Welcome, Your Majesty."
"Alpha Roland," Matthias finally said, his voice smooth and cold as polished stone. "I'm here to inspect the alliances. There have been... disturbing rumors about rogue activity in this sector."
Roland paled. *Does he know? No, he can't know. Lola covered the tracks.* "Of course, Your Majesty. We have nothing to hide."
"Good," Matthias said. "Then your Luna can give me the tour. I prefer the perspective of someone less... politically motivated."
Roland hesitated, his jealousy flaring hot and ugly in his mind, but he couldn't refuse a King. "As you wish."
***
We walked the perimeter of the territory, the guards keeping a respectful—and fearful—distance. The moment we were out of earshot, the mask dropped.
"Scarlet," Matthias breathed, stopping near the old riverbank. He reached out, his large hand hovering near my face but not touching, as if I were made of glass. "You look..."
"Broken?" I whispered.
"Angry," he corrected. "And alive."
I told him everything. I didn't cry. I didn't have any tears left. I told him about the attack, the sterilization, the dead poodle in my son's grave. I told him about the voices I could hear.
Matthias listened, his jaw tightening until a muscle feathered in his cheek. The air around him grew heavy, charged with static electricity. A low growl vibrated in his chest, a sound so primal it made the nearby squirrels scatter.
"I will kill him," Matthias said softly. It wasn't a threat; it was a promise. "I will tear his throat out in front of his pack."
"No," I said, surprising myself. "Not yet. If you kill him now, the Council will investigate. Lola will play the victim. My parents will back her. They'll say I went mad with grief and you acted on false information."
Matthias looked at me, his amber eyes softening. "Then what do you want, Little Red?"
"I want to burn it all down," I said. "But I want them to strike the match."
He nodded slowly. "Your ability... the Truth Ear. It’s a Lycan Queen trait. You can do more than just listen, Scarlet. You can record."
He taught me right there by the river. How to focus my mind not just on hearing the thoughts, but on grabbing them, like catching a moth in a jar. How to imprint the mental signature so it could be played back later.
"Tonight," I said, looking back toward the pack house. "They're all coming for dinner. My parents. Lola. Roland. They think they've won."
Matthias offered me his arm. "Then let's go ruin their appetite."
***
The dining room was suffocating with the scent of roast beef and hypocrisy. My parents, Alpha Marcus and Luna Diana, sat across from us. They had barely looked at me since they arrived, their attention entirely focused on Lola.
Lola was glowing. She sat next to Roland, her hand casually brushing his arm every time she laughed. She looked the picture of health—health stolen from my unborn child.
"It's such a tragedy," my mother sighed, dabbing at her dry eyes. "Poor Scarlet has always been so... fragile. We told Roland, didn't we, Marcus? That perhaps her rogue upbringing made her unfit for bearing Alpha pups."
"Indeed," my father grunted, cutting his meat. "But we are just grateful Lola is recovering so well. She's the heart of this family."
I sat there, gripping my fork, letting the metal dig into my skin to ground me. Matthias sat beside me, a silent, brooding mountain. He wasn't eating. He was watching them like a predator watches prey.
I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind.
I pushed past my mother's shallow anxiety about her dress. I pushed past my father's calculations about the Lycan King's favor. I zeroed in on Lola.
*Look at her,* Lola’s wolf sneered in my head. *Sitting there in that ugly grey dress. She looks like a corpse. Good. Roland finally realizes who the real Luna should be. I just need Damien to stop calling me for the rest of the payment. If he threatens to expose the ambush again, I’ll have to have Roland kill him too.*
Got you.
I mentally grabbed the thought, visualizing it locking into a box in my mind. The strain made a sharp pain shoot through my temple, but I held on.
"Is something wrong, Scarlet?" Lola asked sweetly, tilting her head. "You look pale. Maybe you should go lie down? We wouldn't want you to faint in front of the King."
Roland looked at me, his eyes pleading. *Don't embarrass me, Scarlet. Just go upstairs.*
I took a slow sip of wine. The liquid was red, dark as blood.
"I'm fine, sister," I said, my voice steady. I felt Matthias's leg brush against mine under the table, a solid line of support. "I was just thinking about how lucky we are. To have such a loving family. Such... loyal protectors."
I looked directly at Roland. He flinched.
"Yes," Matthias spoke for the first time, his voice vibrating through the table. "Loyalty is a rare commodity these days. I find that those who speak of it most often have the least of it."
The room went deadly silent. Lola’s smile faltered.
*What does he know?* her mind shrieked. *Why is he looking at me like that?*
I smiled, raising my glass. "To family," I said.
"To family," they echoed, oblivious to the blade hanging over their necks.
I took a drink, savoring the metallic tang. The recording was locked in my mind. The first brick of their destruction was laid. And for the first time in months, I wasn't just surviving. I was hunting.
