Lucian's POV
“I am here to express our condolences to Your Highness on His Majesty’s passing…"
“We are deeply sorry…"
Their voices blurred and faded to a distant echo in my mind. I couldn’t focus on anything. The only thing consuming my thoughts was Leah.
Where is she now? If Lucas’s plan had succeeded, she would be with Darren, fleeing to the north.
The plan involved enhanced Darren killing Mick and secretly sending Leah to the north. Publicly, we’d claim that Leah, grief-stricken by my father’s death, had taken her own life. In this way, I’d eliminate Mick and seize the throne simultaneously.
When Lucas first proposed the plan, I thought he was mad. No one had ever schemed like this before. No one had ever dared to deceive the Moon Goddess. Since yesterday, a troubling unease had crept over me. I didn’t like it one bit. It was the same bitter taste I’d felt when Leah ran away from me years ago.
Scanning the room, I searched for Lucas and spotted him conversing with my head of security, Rory. Something about their expressions unsettled me. Something bad had happened. I pushed my way through the crowd towards them. Rory immediately stepped back as I approached.
“What’s going on?" I demanded from Lucas, whose face darkened.
“There’s been an accident," he muttered.
My scowl deepened. “What do you mean? Can I get a straightforward answer?”
His voice was grave as he replied, “The operation failed. Leah was shot by Mick during the fight and taken away by Darren. Mick is still alive. We’re handling it now."
What?! Anger surged through me, but I held it in. Out of respect for my father’s funeral and the gathered crowd, I contained the fury that threatened to erupt. Without a word, I stormed away, Lucas trailing behind me to my study.
Once inside, I grabbed Lucas by the collar and slammed him against the door.
"Are you fucking with me, Farrow?" I hissed through clenched teeth.
"Your Highness, as I said, we’re dealing with it," he responded.
"Where is Leah? Is she still alive?!" I demanded, my voice rising.
"’m mobilizing all available resources to find her. With the city under curfew, she must still be within the perimeter. Your Highness, you need to return to the funeral before people start…"
"I don’t give a damn about what people think!" I punctuated my words with a punch to the wall beside his head, leaving a dent. “I need to know where my daughter is right now!"
"She’s my mate, my wife, Your Highness. If something happens to her, I’d never forgive myself…"
"If something happens to her, you’re dead,” I promised, my gaze piercing his.
Undeterred, Lucas stared back and retorted, “That’s really reassuring, Your Highness."
I shoved him away and began pacing nervously. Leah must be terrified. We made her believe she was betrayed and hunted by us—her own father, her own husband. But the cruel reality was that we were only trying to protect her.
I grabbed the phone and started to dial. Lucas’s hand shot out to stop me.
"Your Highness, what are you doing?” he questioned.
"You want to know?" I snapped. "I’m calling Jalin! I need him back to help me find Leah!"
Lucas looked furious. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but your attachment to Jalin Cleary is bizarre. You’re seriously asking your daughter’s kidnapper to help find her?"
Brushing his hand away, I retorted, "I don’t care. He gets results. I’m calling him because I can’t handle this right now. I have a funeral and a coronation to face, and those damn Alphas will tear me apart if I don’t see this through."
"Your Highness, I beg you. Let me handle this. I will find my wife and mate, as I always have." Lucas’s plea was almost desperate.
"You have 18 hours, Farrow. If you can’t find her by then, I’m calling Jalin," I warned, setting down the phone.
Lucas immediately walked out of the room. I collapsed into my chair, rubbing my temples. My head was throbbing, ready to explode. My eyes fell on the picture frame on my desk. Leah leaned against me in the photo, her head tilted up, her eyes filled with admiration and love. My heart felt shattered. Leah, where are you? Please, stay alive.
Stay alive for me.
**
As I stood by my father's casket, a flood of conflicting emotions washed over me. The air was thick with the scent of decaying leaves and freshly turned earth, a fitting backdrop for this morose occasion. I stared at his lifeless face, etched with the lines of time and the burdens of his reign as the Lycan King.
My father was a tyrant, a man whose cruelty was known far and wide. He ruled with an iron fist, his mere presence enough to instill fear in the hearts of many. Yet, amidst the memories of his harshness, there were fleeting moments of happiness—tiny, fragile lights in the vast darkness of our relationship.
I remembered the rare occasions when he would take me hunting in the lush forests surrounding our kingdom. Those moments were some of the few where he seemed almost human, almost kind. I could still feel the thrill of the chase, the exhilaration of the wind rushing past us as we ran side by side in our wolf forms. His gruff laughter would occasionally break the silence, a sound that, despite everything, warmed my heart.
As my father's casket was sealed, my world as a Lycan Prince officially ended, and my life as a Lycan King started.
I throw the flowers in my hands into his grave.
"All these years, you've taught me how to be a King, but the only thing I want to be is your son." I thought to myself. "Goodbye, Father. See you in hell."
Then, I walked away as people walked past me, paying their tribute to their King.