12:39 pm
Third Person’s POV
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“Not only that, but doing this will crush the morale of the soldiers and civilians at the Bloodscar border. They’ll think you’re intentionally protecting Ulrik while pinning every ounce of guilt on Alpha Zander, the man who spent his life guarding our frontiers.”
Lycan Erasmus’s teacup mmed onto the floor tiles, shards of porcin flying as the tea seeped into the cracks of the stone.
Lycan Erasmus’s chest was heaving, and his pressure suddenly tightened–a drop in atmospheric weight like the calm before a hurricane. The very air in the hall grew thin.
“You overstep your bounds!”
Fabian’s body jolted. He stole a terrified nce at the Lycan King before turning to Lance, his voice frantic. “Alpha Lance, stop! Not another word!”
Lycan Erasmus stood up from his chair. He loomed over the kneeling Lance, his eyes as cold as frost–covered des. For a long moment, there was only silence.
When he finally spoke, his voice was chilling.
“So, your obedience all these years was just an act. You dare to defy me? You dare to use me of mistreating Alpha Zander? If those words reached the public, how would the soldiers of this world look at me? What is it you’re really after?”
Lance took a deep breath and held his ground.
“Everything I do is for this country. In fact, I should ask you, Lycan Erasmus–do you truly believe I have some hidden agenda?”
Lycan Erasmus stared at him. A wave of inner–wolf rage flooded his system, but beneath it was a flicker of genuine caution. It seemed that while he had reimed officialmand of the Legions, he hadn’t yet reimed their hearts.
After the Southern Border war, Lycan Erasmus had started intentionally isting Lance from military affairs, hoping his influence would fade over time.
But that required time–time he didn’t have, especially not at this critical junction.
Suppressing his wolf’s urge to howl, he slowly withdrew his aura, though his white–knuckled fists betrayed his fury
“I have no desire to question your motives,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, t tone.
“We are brothers. If you say this is for the good of the nation, I have no reason not to believe you. If you think questioning Utrik is necessary… then I grant it.”
Lycan Erasmus paused, his eyes narrowing. “But I hope this isn’t about a personal grudge. You are my brother, I don’t want people. spreading rumors that you’re being petty. You need to understand the difficulty of my position as King.”
Lance lowered his gaze, his back dipping slightly as he returned to a submissive posture.
“I will always remember your concern for me, Lycan Erasmus. And I beg you, never doubt my oath. My blood and my de are loyal to your throne until death.”
<i>1/2 </i>
<b>12:39 </b>pm
“We are brothers, bound by blood. Of course I trust you.” Lycan Erasmus waved a hand dismissively. “Stand up.”
“Thank you.”
As Lance stood, he reached out and gave Fabian a steadying hand.
Fabian’s legs were like jelly, he nearly stumbled.
His face was ash–gray, and sweat was pouring down his forehead.
<b>6</b><b>:</b><b>0 </b>
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He hadn’t expected the day to turn into such a high–stakes gamble. It felt like they had been walking on the edge of a knife.
After Lance left, Lycan Erasmus issued the order: Ulrik was to report to the Royal Marshals for questioning.
The summons had to be signed by the King himself, it could not look like Lance was overstepping his authority. That would have been a public challenge <b>to </b>the crown.
As the ruler of a nation, Lycan Erasmus had to project absolute control, especially now.
Standing to the side, Fabian shielded his neck, bracing for another wave of the King’s pheromones.
He expected the beast tosh out, but instead, the suffocating pressure receded like a tide.
Lycan Erasmus rubbed his temples wearily, his glowing red eyes fading back to a deep, unreadable dark.
“Fabian,” Lycan Erasmus said softly. “Do the wolves out there think like Lance? Do they think I’m just trying to groom a puppet to rece the old generals I don’t like?”
“Lycan Erasmus, you’re overthinking it,” Fabian stammered, trying to keep his scent neutral. “The Council, the civilians… they know you’re a wise and just ruler. They only see your fairness.”
“Heh. Wise. Just.”
Lycan Erasmus repeated the words, tasting the bitterness in them.
He let out a self–deprecating smirk. “Right. The day Alpha Zander returned to the capital, themoners lining the streets were certainly singing praises of my <b>‘</b>wisdom.“”
Fabian didn’t dare breathe, let alone respond to that.
His shirt was soaked through, sticking to his back.
The coals in the corner were pumping out heat, but he felt a chill running down his spine.
Lycan Erasmus dropped his hand, his voice returning to a cold calm.
“Lance wasn’t wrong about one thing I do want to train new blood. But I’m not a fool. Even if I’m grooming new leaders, <b>I </b>wouldn’t just toss aside the generals who have bled for this country for decades.”
He didn’t look at Fabian. His eyes were fixed on a distant point on his desk
“He knows exactly why I need new blood. I might hold themand codes, but his reputation in the army still moves mountains. His victory at the Southern Border is like a mountain I can’t moye. And yet, here he is… using his
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<strong>Olivia Harris</strong> is an emerging author celebrated for her captivating romantic and steamy novels. With a talent for crafting deep emotional connections and fiery chemistry between her characters, Olivia’s stories offer readers an escape into worlds filled with passion, intrigue, and heart-stopping drama.