Chapter 87 A King’s Warning
Leslie Rogue Pack POV
Outside Halinport, the media swarmed like locusts.
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Reporters from every major outlet clogged the area, their cameras and microphones pointed straight at the VIP exit, waiting for their scandal–star heroine <i>to </i>appear.
“Leslie, are you sure about this?” Carl frowned beside me. “Those jackals out there aren’t here to y nice. Let me draw them off. You can slip through the back tunnel.”
“No need.” I shook my head and pulled a in baseball cap low over my face. “I want them to take their pictures. The more chaos they create now, the better the payoff will be at our royal celebration next month.”
Carl and I stepped out.
A barrage of camera shes lit up the world like it was high noon.
“Miss Leslie! Anyment on the rumors about your alleged affairs?”
“Can you exin your rtionship with your brothers and Mr. Eric?”
“Did you use inappropriate methods to im the Westview Governorship?!”
A flood of vicious, nted questions surged toward me.
Then, out of nowhere, a rotten tomato–soaked in some foul liquid–came flying through the air and smashed directly into the back of my head.
Slime and stench dripped down my hair.
The entire crowd fell into stunned silence.
Every reporter locked their lens on me, hungry, ecstatic, desperate to capture this moment of disgrace.
But I didn’t scream. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t even blink.
I simply raised a hand, wiped the mess from my face, and looked up–with the coldest stare imaginable. The kind you give the already–dead.
“Find them,” I said quietly to Liam.
At that moment, an aura of devastating power, far more terrifying than mine, exploded behind
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“Who? Who did this?!”
A voice boomed like thunder across every soul present–fury incarnate.
I turned.
My father, Lars Rogue Pack–Lycan King of the Rogue Pack royal family–was walking out of the hidden passage with my brother Thorbane. His face burned with unrestrained fury, and his golden eyes held enough fire to reduce all of Halinport to ash.
“Crimson Moon Pack… You’ve gone too far!”
Leslie POV
With my father’s arrival, Halinport’s temperature seemed to plummet to subzero.
All the reporters trembled beneath the crushing pressure of a king’s dominance. No one dared to breathe.
“Father.” I stepped forward and bowed slightly.
“My daughter.” He looked at the filth staining the back of my head. His rage was tangible, suffocating. “They dared humiliate you.”
“I’m fine.” I shook my head.
“This won’t be forgotten.” He turned to Thorbane. “Issue my order. From this moment on, the Lycan royal family severs all business ties with the Crimson Moon Pack. I will make Marcus Crimson Moon Pack pay the highest price for his stupidity.”
“Yes, Father.<i>” </i>Thorbane nodded firmly.
Just then, my father’s privatemunicator buzzed.
He nced at the screen and sneered.
<b>It </b>was Marcus Crimson Moon Pack.
“King Lars,” came Marcus’s artificially calm voice, “I heard you’re in Westview. I was wondering if you might be open to… discussing future cooperation between our two Packs?”
Clearly, he hadn’t realized who his mongrel reporters had just insulted.
“Cooperation?” My father chuckled–low, dangerous, bone–chilling. “Of course we can talk, Marcus<b>. </b>One month from now, at the Rogue Pack royal centennial celebration. I’ll send you an
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Chapter 87 A King’s Warning
invitation–for you and your entire family.”
“Then, we cany all our cards on the table. No more games.”
He ended the call.
I knew, without a doubt, this was Father’s final warning to Crimson Moon Pack.
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