Chapter 171: Meat’s back on the menu

BRADLEY

Whatever Cornelius had taken to his grave, Lysander needed to know the truth. His cousin was legitimate. The blood claim was real. Johann was not merely a political threat to the succession. He was Cornelius’s son, and that changed everything.

I shoved the report beneath my arm and strode toward the study, my boots striking against the stone in a steady rhythm that seemed to echo the pulse hammering in my ears.

The door stood open when I reached it.

I stopped at the threshold.

The room was empty.

The desk lamp was still burning, casting a pool of warm light across the papers scattered over the desk, but the chair behind it was vacant. The faint scent of Lysander’s cologne lingered in the air, recent enough that I knew he could not have been gone long.

I stepped inside and glanced around anyway, as though he might somehow be hiding among the shelves.

Nothing.

"Damn it."

I turned back into the corridor, frustration tightening my jaw. The DNA report was still clutched in my hand, the paper now creased almost beyond recognition.

An Omega servant appeared at the far end of the corridor, carrying a stack of folded linens against his chest. His gaze remained fixed on the floor as he approached, his steps quick and careful.

"You."

He stopped so abruptly that one of the linens nearly slipped from the pile.

I heard his breath catch.

"Y-yes, High Beta?"

"Have you seen His Majesty? The Regent?"

The servant swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath his throat.

"Last I heard, High Beta..." His eyes flicked toward the main hall before dropping again. "He was having dinner."

"When?"

"A little while ago, sir."

"Where?"

"The main hall."

I nodded once, dismissing the boy, and turned toward the dining hall.

I had barely taken three steps when my phone buzzed against my hip.

I pulled it free, expecting a message from one of my sentinels or perhaps the witch, confirming that she had reached the safety of her own territory.

Instead, the name on the screen made me stop.

Sofiane.

Lysander’s brother. The current heir to the Alpha seat of Lily of the Valley, the position Lysander was supposed to relinquish once he took the crown.

I answered and pressed the phone to my ear.

"Alpha Sofiane."

"High Beta Bradley." His voice was strained, rushed, carrying the unmistakable exhaustion of a man who had been trying to reach someone for far too long. "I’ve been trying to get through to Lysander. His line keeps going to voicemail. Is he with you?"

"He’s at dinner." I kept my eyes on the corridor ahead, already calculating how long it would take me to reach the dining hall. "What is so urgent?"

"It’s the pack seat."

Something in his tone sharpened my attention.

"What about it?"

"There are complications with the succession." He exhaled hard. "Legalities. Pack law. If Lysander doesn’t formally abdicate his position at Lily of the Valley before taking the Alpha King seat, the elders can challenge the transition."

I frowned.

"Can they actually stop the coronation?"

"Not necessarily. But they can make the process a nightmare, and the last thing we need is a succession dispute hanging over us when he takes the crown." His words came faster now. "It needs to be done quickly, Bradley. Before the coronation. Ideally tomorrow."

I absorbed that, filing it alongside the growing list of problems that had surfaced since Cornelius’s death.

"Fine. I’ll tell him."

"Please do."

"I’m heading to him now."

A quiet breath came through the line, the tension in Sofiane’s voice easing slightly.

"Thank you." He hesitated. "And tell him I’m sorry."

"For what?"

"For pushing him so hard." His voice dropped. "The elders here have been on my neck for days, and believe me, it isn’t pleasant. I know I probably made things worse by adding to it."

"I’ll tell him."

"I appreciate it, Bradley."

The line went dead.

I lowered the phone slowly.

For a moment, I stared at the dark screen, listening to the silence that had settled over the corridor.

Another problem.

Another thing Lysander would have to deal with before he had even taken the crown.

The phone felt heavy in one hand, the DNA results heavier in the other. Two burdens. Two truths. Both needed to be delivered, yet neither was something I could simply walk into a room and say without consequence.

I tightened my grip around the report.

I made my way toward the dining hall, each step slower and more deliberate than the last. By the time I reached the door, voices drifted through the thick wood, muffled but unmistakable.

Edelina’s voice came first, sharp and musical. Then Johann’s deeper rumble, followed by Lysander’s steady baritone.

And another voice.

A softer, hesitant voice followed, one I guessed belonged to Bonnie.

I stopped with my hand on the doorknob.

The folder burned against my palm, as if it carried its own secret heat.

If I walked in there now and told Lysander what I had discovered, Edelina and Johann would hear every word. The moment they learned Johann’s blood claim was legitimate, the balance we had spent days trying to maintain would collapse.

They would seize the chance to demand the throne, their boldness swelling with this new certainty.

Perhaps they would not bother waiting for the coronation at all.

I couldn’t tell him here.

I slipped the DNA report beneath my jacket, tucking it deep into the inner pocket until the paper pressed against my heart.

I would find him alone.

For now, I only needed to deliver Sofiane’s message.

I rapped twice on the door, each knock sharp and clear enough to cut through the room’s chatter.

"Who is it?" Lysander called.

"Who is it?" Edelina demanded almost simultaneously.

"Who is it?" Johann echoed.

Their voices overlapped in a strange, almost rehearsed chorus.

I opened the door just enough to look inside.

My gaze landed on Edelina at the far end of the table. She held a wineglass poised halfway to her lips, posture flawless, her sharp, calculating eyes already locked onto mine.

She knew something.

She always seemed to know when something was wrong.

"Perhaps I’ll come back later," I said, beginning to pull the door closed.

"Wait."

Lysander’s voice stopped me.

I looked back.

He was already pushing his chair away from the table, his attention fixed entirely on me. One hand rested against the edge of the table while the other lifted in a quiet command to stay.

"What is it?" he asked, his eyes saying what words could not. You would not have come here during dinner unless it was important. If it is a secret, then give me something else.

I remained in the doorway, caught between the warmth of the dining room and the cold corridor behind me.

My hand instinctively pressed against the inside of my jacket.

The report was still there.

So was the truth.

I could feel Edelina watching me.

She was studying my face, searching for the reason I had come, and I knew that if I let even a fraction of what I had discovered show in my expression, she would see it.

It was like she would read the truth in my eyes before I ever had the chance to tell Lysander.

"I received a call," I answered, keeping my voice steady as I met Lysander’s eyes. "From Alpha Sofiane. He has been trying to reach you. He needs you to formally leave the Lily of the Valley pack seat before the coronation. Tomorrow, if possible. There are legal complications if you delay."

Lysander studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. His eyes searched my face, lingering just long enough to make me wonder if he could see the truth I was trying so desperately to hide.

Then he nodded.

"Tell him," he said, his voice carrying across the table, "that I will be there."

I bowed my head in acknowledgment and stepped back into the corridor. I pulled the door closed behind me and stood there, my forehead resting against the cool wood.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

The secret in my pocket felt like a stone weighing me down.

I couldn’t go back to my quarters.

Now that the moment had even passed me by, I was not even sure if I could face Lysander with what I knew, not yet, not until I understood it myself. I needed... I needed to see him. Cornelius. I needed to ask him why, even if he could not answer.