Chapter 271. Fury

Chapter 271: 271. Fury

The vase flew across the throne room, shattering against the walls. The Lycan Queen was furious. More importantly, she was rattled.

Her chest heaved as she paced the length of the empty hall, staring at the ruby crown.

It was inert.

It didn’t matter how many times she slit her palm and draped her blood all over the stone. It didn’t respond to her. Didn’t expand. Didn’t react to her. She was without a crown, and if she didn’t act fast, she would lose her throne and her life.

A knock echoed through the chamber. "Your Majesty--"

"I told you I was not to be disturbed," Lysandra snapped, her fingers clutched around her neck. The skin was bruised and purpling. If the girl had squeezed any harder, she would have broken her neck.

No. How wrong that statement was.

If the girl had wanted her dead, she would be already be dead.

The double doors parted anyway, and the Lycan Queen’s lips curled with displeasure as Mercer strode in insolently.

Ah, yes. Of course. The boy had come for answers. Annoyance flared hot inside her. Months of careful planning and manipulation, and it had all come to waste.

She would have to send a clear message to make the girl understand she wasn’t to be toyed with. Perhaps, killing Kara Hunt would work. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d begin sending her pieces of her half-brothers. And if that didn’t work, she’d begin working on her husbands.

Lysandra hadn’t worked so hard to get the girl away from the princes only to have another illicit bonding happen.

"You are supposed to be by the borders--"

"Did you do it?"

Queen Lysandra studied her son, the pitiful thing. He always did have those mournful eyes. Always pleading, always wanting things she was too broken to give, always seeking answers from her that would in turn break him.

Perhaps, he didn’t realise it, but even now, his eyes, hard as they were, were begging her to lie to him.

"You saw what she did," she lied easily. "She tried to kill me. She tried to kill your mother and you walk in here to question if I tried to kill her and your unborn child," her voice broke and her eyes watered. "That girl is a liar. You can’t believe the words of an adulteress and murderer."

That often did the trick.

Mercer was studying her closely, too closely. "Levi Sommer."

The Queen paused. The name didn’t ring a bell.

"He was Maisie’s specialist in Munich." The Queen remembered him now. Old. Half-breed. Foolishly honest. Mercer’s eyes were unblinking and dark. "He went missing the moment we began requesting the records from the hospital."

Queen Lysandra’s expression didn’t change. "Are you accusing me of something, boy?"

"Did you have him killed?"

She had offered him money first, of course. It was his fault he had refused it in exchange for falsified reports. She had been willing to offer him five times the amount if he ensured that the girl remained in the coma.

But Levi was honest, loyal to a fault. And it lead to his demise. Lysandra didn’t enjoy killing people. Being monarch meant making the difficult decisions, even if everyone hated you for it, even if the only person you’d ever truly loved got hurt in the process and looked at you like you were a monster.

"I know how much you love Maisie," Queen Lysandra paused. "How difficult it is for you to see her for what she is."

She crossed the distance between them and cupped his cheeks, caressing him gently, like she never did when he was a child. "I’m not the villain you think I am. Everything I’ve ever done is for you. You really think I could hurt you that way? You are my son, and I love you more than anything in this world."

Though, she last sentence wasn’t a lie, she had never spoken those words to him before. And the corners of his eyes softened.

His forehead dropped to hers and Lysandra exhaled with relief as he whispered softly, "Mother."

Mercer dropped a kiss to her forehead.

He was so different from his father. And Lysandra often wondered what gods she must have pleased to bring something so good, so pure into this world.

And so, it was a surprise when Mercer lifted his hands slowly and cupped her neck.

And began to choke the life out of her.

Confusion married her brows together as the pressure tightened instantly. Bone-crushing. Absolute.

Her hands flew to his wrists, her manicured nails digging into his skin, but Mercer didn’t flinch.

The softness in his eyes evaporated, replaced by a dark, bottomless rage that contorted his face into something horrifying. His upper lip pulled back over his teeth in a snarl, his jaw trembling with the sheer effort of holding her down.

"I’ve been watching you for since I was born, Mother," Mercer hissed, his voice low, vibrating with a hatred so raw it rattled her ribs.

He leaned in, forcing her back until her spine slammed hard against the marble pillar. "I know what you look like when you lie to me."

Lysandra gasped, her feet kicking uselessly against the floor as the air was violently cut off. Panic exploded in her chest. She looked into his eyes, begging, but found zero mercy.

"I’m going to watch you die," he whispered, his knuckles turning stark white as he choked her harder. "I’m going to watch the light leave your eyes, and then I’m going to burn you to fucking ashes."

Her vision swam with black spots. Her windpipe cracked under his grip. Her choked, wet rasps were loud enough to gain the attention of the guards outside.

"Get him away from me!" she cried, her voice ruined.

The first four guards tackled Mercer, but he shook them off, smashing them into the throne. It took eight more men diving onto his back just to break his grip on her throat.

Lysandra collapsed to the floor, clutching her neck, sobbing and wheezing as hot air tore into her lungs. This day was clearly a cursed one for her.

Her cold heart broke as Mercer fought like a rabid beast, teeth bared, blood pouring from his knuckles as he dragged six armored guards along with him, trying to tear his way back to her.

She flinched, truly frightened as he roared at her. "I’ll rip your heart out!" His voice echoex off the high ceilings as a dozen more guards flooded the hall, piling onto him, locking him in heavy iron chains. "You hear me, Lysandra?! You’re dead! YOU’RE DEAD!"