Defying the Lycan King

Chapter 198: Sugar in Every Dish

Derek stormed into the main mansion and straight through to his study, his mind a tangle of a hundred warring thoughts.

He was confused and in denial. And beneath both of those, he was furious. The problem was, he didn’t quite know who he was furious at.

Was he mad at Uncle Crane for being a professional pain in the backside? Was he mad at Rolf? Himself? Or was he mad at the photographs?

Honestly, his hands were just itching to grab the nearest object—preferably a very expensive one—and hurl it straight through a window to see if the crashing sound would make the noise in his head stop.

He hated losing control.

A soft knock came at the door. But before Derek could roar at whoever it was to go away and choose death elsewhere, the door pushed open slowly, and Nana stepped inside.

She didn’t look bothered by the fact that the entire room smelled like a stressed-out Lycan King. She looked at him calmly.

"How are you, son?" she asked, walking in.

Derek let out a heavy breath. He opened his mouth and found he could not say a single word. He just stood there, looking like a giant, muscle-bound toddler whose favourite toy had been flung into a black hole.

Nana looked at him for a second, then beckoned him to come forward. She spread her arms wide, tilting her head with a knowing expression.

"Come here. You look like a man who desperately needs a hug," she said.

Derek said nothing. He crossed the room and walked straight into her arms.

She wrapped them around him, this enormous king who towered over her, and rubbed slow circles against his back as he bent and rested his head against her shoulder.

And there, hidden against the curve of her neck, he closed his eyes and allowed silent tears to run down his face.

For the first time in days, something in him eased. A small sense of calm settled over the chaos in his chest, a comfort he had not even realised how desperately he needed.

He let go of his stiff, kingly posture and leaned into the hug even more, practically burying himself in her maternal warmth.

They stood like that for a long while.

At last, Derek spoke, his voice rough and quiet against her shoulder.

"Nana... do you think I can ever be the king my people need?"

Nana’s hand paused on his back.

"Derek," she said gently, "you would make a fine king. You already are one. You took this territory and built it into a fortress with your bare hands, and you did it before you were even twenty-eight. Do you think an incompetent man achieves that?"

Derek pulled back, shaking his head, wiping roughly at his face. "I don’t want you to say something just to make me feel better about myself, Nana. I’m not a child."

Nana scoffed, crossing her arms as she looked at him with an amused expression.

"And what is it you expect me to say, then?" she asked. "That I will stand here and tell you that you are a miserable failure just because our security has been compromised a couple of times in eight years?"

She reached up and laid her palm against his cheek. "What you have to understand, my boy, is that things happen. Bad things, sometimes, that no man living could have stopped. You cannot spend your life beating yourself bloody over things that were never in your control to begin with."

Derek swallowed hard. He held her gaze a moment, then asked the question that had been gnawing at him.

"Do you think I made a mistake? Marrying a werewolf?"

Nana shook her head without a moment’s hesitation.

"I think you did something bold," she said. "Something extraordinary. You followed your heart. Mark my words, son, you and Kira will go down in the history books for bringing werewolves and Lycans together after so many centuries of foolish animosity. That is a legacy. Don’t let the fear of the present ruin that."

More tears ran down Derek’s face at her words. He wiped them away quickly with the back of his hand, feeling a bit ridiculous.

Nana smiled and patted his cheek. "Come on, don’t hide your emotions. Not from me."

Derek did not tell her. He did not say a word about the photographs Crane had thrown across that table, or the threat the man had left hanging in the air, or the sick doubt that had begun to whisper at the back of his own mind.

Not yet. He needed to calm down first. He needed to think, clearly, before he spoke any of it aloud and made it real.

"Don’t just tell anyone that you saw me cry," he said instead.

Nana made a gesture of zipping her mouth and they both chuckled.

***

Meanwhile, on the other side of the mansion, Jessica and Angelica had literally become besties. The two ladies were currently sitting cross-legged on the floor of the balcony, a Monopoly board spread out between them.

Angelica was thoroughly winning, mostly because she kept distracting Jessica with one outrageous story after another.

"And so there I am," Angelica was saying, sliding a little green house onto a property with the satisfaction of a woman about to bankrupt someone, "newly mated, trying so very hard to impress Kai and Tan’s father’s mother."

She shook her head. "A terrifying woman who could curdle milk with a glance. And I’d spent the entire morning cooking this grand feast to win her over."

She paused dramatically. "I served the whole thing with such pride. And only after she’d taken her first bite did I realise I hadn’t used salt." She leaned in. "It was sugar. I had used sugar for every dish."

Jessica let out a small laugh despite herself. "What did she do?"

"She ate every bite," Angelica said, deadpan. "Smiling. To this day I don’t know if it was grace or revenge."

She moved her piece. "Oh, and that reminds me. Did I tell you about the time Kai, age six, decided he was going to marry a chicken? A live one. He carried the poor bird about for two whole weeks, calling it his wife, and wept buckets when we explained the law did not allow it."

Jessica giggled, but the laugh did not quite reach her eyes.

She tried. She truly did. She moved her piece when it was her turn, made the right sounds in the right places. But her face would not brighten, not all the way, and the worry sat heavy on it like a shadow that would not lift.

Angelica stopped counting her play money and glanced up. She saw the way Jessica had drifted off again, her eyes fixed on nothing, her hand resting forgotten on the board.

Gently, the older woman reached over and took Jessica’s hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

The physical contact brought Jessica snapping right back to the present. She blinked, looking up with a startled expression.

"You’re thinking about her again," Angelica said. It was not a question.

Jessica nodded, and tears welled up before she could stop them.

"I don’t even know if she’s alright," she whispered. "I don’t know if she’s safe, if she’s eating, if she’s hurt somewhere. And here I am, playing games and laughing." Her voice cracked.

"I feel like a fraud. Like a terrible person, trying to be happy when my best friend is out there missing."

Angelica squeezed her hand again, firmly this time.

"Now you listen to me," she said. "This is Kira we’re speaking of, isn’t it? The very same girl you’ve spent days telling me about? The one who’s clever, and brave, and handles every wretched thing life throws at her?"

She tilted her head. "I’m certain she is out there right now, giving her captors a headache. She is going to be completely fine."

Jessica let out a shaky breath, wiping a stray tear from her eyelid. "I really, really hope so."

"She will be." Angelica reached up and brushed a tear from Jessica’s cheek with her thumb. "Now wipe those eyes, child. She wouldn’t want you weeping over the Monopoly board on her account."

Jessica gave a watery laugh and nodded, wiping at her face.

And just then, the glass balcony door opened, and Kai stepped out from the bedroom.

His eyes were fixed on Jessica, and there was none of his usual mischief in them. His face was serious. Drawn.

Jessica looked up at him, her brows knitting together with worry.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"We need to talk," Kai said.