Darren's POV
"What the hell are you doing? Get the cart over here!" a soldier barked at me.
I complied, but one of them still kicked me in the back.
"Stupid rogue," he hissed.
I could tell they were Moon Growlers.
One came forward, lifted the sheet, and frowned. "What the heck is this? I need a second opinion."
Another stepped up and exclaimed, "What the fuck happened to her face? And where are the rest of her legs?"
"I found her like this. Must’ve been some predators," I said.
"Shit! We’re screwed!" The one who kicked me looked genuinely terrified. "I told Jalin we had the girl. Now we have this… this mangled corpse. That psycho is going to tear me apart!"
"Stop panicking," another soldier tried to reassure him. "Look at her belly. She’s pregnant. About the same size as Her Highness Leah. This must be her."
"Alright then, you tell him that and see how he reacts!"
"Well, sorry to interrupt. Can I get paid now? I really need to go," I interrupted.
I was dressed like a rogue in a filthy shirt and torn jeans.
"Pay him and get rid of him! I’ve had enough of rogues," the soldier ordered, waving his hand dismissively.
One of them shoved a wad of cash into my hand.
"Don’t you dare tell anyone about this. Understood?" he warned.
"Sure," I agreed, casting one final look at the body on the cart.
Goodbye, my love.
Goodbye, my mate.
I turned and walked away. No one would ever know the truth about the woman on that cart except me.
Josephine’s voice echoed in my mind – "Why?"
I had no choice. The memories replayed in flashes.
Josephine was racing downstairs to report Leah’s fake death to the soldiers. I had to stop her.
When she saw me coming, she thought I was there to protect her. That must be why she looked so relieved when I wrapped my arms around her and covered her head with my coat.
Lowering my head, I kissed her hair and whispered, "I love you, Jo. More than anything."
Those were my final words to her before I injected the sedative into her veins.
Lies.
She looked up at me, her eyes brimming with disbelief and pain. I expected her to scream at me, but she didn't. She just grabbed my collar and asked, "Why?"
That was the last word she ever spoke to me. And I had no answer.
I couldn’t tell her that I loved Leah more than anything in this world. That I’d do anything to keep Leah safe. She wouldn’t understand. After all, she was my mate, not Leah. I was supposed to protect her and our child, not Leah.
I killed my mate and our unborn child. Soon, I would be dead too. But first, I had to find a way to save Leah.
When I got home, the streets were empty of soldiers. A live broadcast of the King’s funeral and shocking news about Lucas Farrow’s arrest played on the screens.
Inside, I found Leah sleeping soundly on the bed. She looked so pale yet so peaceful.
For a moment, I just sat in the dark, watching her. I remembered the day I held her beside the pool, the moonlight reflecting off her translucent skin. She looked like a vulnerable fawn, gazing at a hunter.
I took her hands and pressed them to my chest.
"Leah, I’m here with you. I'll get you out of here. No one will hurt you again," I murmured.
Jalin's POV
"She's dead?! What the hell do you mean she's dead?! I see a mutilated, faceless body with no legs! Don’t try to feed me this crap about her being dead! I want the curfew reinstated now!" I roared at the soldiers.
"Or, we could just bury her and call it a day," Alpha Siluria suggested, eyeing me.
"If Leah’s out there, she’ll come back and haunt me one day!" I snarled, glaring at him.
"Jalin, you’re haunted by so many people already. What’s one more?" Alpha Siluria shrugged. "You wanted my advice, so here it is. Bury Leah and focus on preparing for Lucian’s crowning ceremony."
I cast a cold glance at the corpse and waved dismissively. "Get rid of it."
The soldiers scurried away at once.
"You’re losing it. I get it. But don’t you think you’re blowing this out of proportion?" Alpha Siluria remarked.
"Mind your own damn business, Alpha Siluria," I spat, storming out of my study.
I despised this world. Everything about Lycans made me nauseous. They never die.
I shoved open the door and tried to enter Lucian’s bedroom.
Two guards blocked my path. "His Highness is resting right now."
"Who gave him permission to rest?" I demanded, glaring at them.
"Let him in," Lucian’s voice was weak, barely audible.
The guards stepped aside.
I walked in and slammed the door shut. Lucian was half-hanging off the bed, his long hair trailing on the floor, surrounded by empty bottles.
I kicked the bottles aside, seized his hair, and yanked him upright. "What the hell are you doing?" I demanded, staring into his bleary eyes.
Lucian gazed at me, bewildered and silent. His silence infuriated me.
I grabbed a bottle of whisky from the table, twisted off the cap, and forced his mouth open, shoving the bottle inside.
He tried to resist, so I pinned him down and poured the entire contents down his throat. Lucian choked and sputtered, helplessly waving his hands, trying to push me away. But he was too drunk to fight back.
"Drink it, you pathetic loser! Don’t spill a drop! Drink like your deadbeat grandfather!" I shouted, my voice dripping with disdain.
Lucian coughed violently, alcohol and blood gushing from his mouth and nose, splattering the bed.
I smirked sadistically. Who would have thought a Lycan Prince, decked in all his glamour, would be reduced to this in his own room?
After emptying the bottle, I smashed it on the floor. Lucian retched and vomited until there was nothing left in him.
I yanked his hair again, forcing him to look at me, his face stained with tears and blood.
"You like this, don’t you?" I sneered, slapping him across the face.