Defying the Lycan King-Chapter 44: Derek’s Monsters

Shouts and screams tore through the air. The clash of metal rang out sharp and brutal, mixing with guttural snarls that echoed off the walls of the banquet hall. Blood was everywhere, splattered across white tablecloths, pooling on the floor, dripping from the edges of overturned chairs. Chaos had swallowed the celebration whole.

Someone had shoved Derek into a cramped, dark space, a closet or perhaps a storage crate. He pressed against the wooden slats, body shaking so hard his teeth rattled. Through the thin gaps he watched the massacre unfold.

Lycans in their massive, powerful shifted forms lunged at the masked intruders, but something was terribly wrong. Their movements were sluggish, heavy, as though invisible chains dragged at every limb. They looked drugged, weakened, their once-lethal strikes falling short.

The masked men moved with cold precision, driving silver-edged swords straight through Lycan hearts. Then Derek’s gaze caught on a woman being dragged away by three burly figures.

That woman was his mother.

His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. He tried to scream, but his mouth felt sealed shut, too heavy to open. He searched frantically for his father. His father’s head lay severed on the floor nearby, lifeless amber eyes staring at nothing.

Derek fought to move, to tear the men apart with his bare hands. He burst from the closet, staggering forward on legs that barely held him. His fists clenched so tight his nails cut into his palms.

Derek kept marching forward.

One of the masked men turned. The silver blade flashed as it thrust straight toward Derek’s chest.

A voice cut through the din of the massacre, raw and piercing.

"Derek!"

He gasped, his eyes snapping open.

He realised he was still in his study. The brandy glass had tipped over on the desk, a small puddle of brown liquid soaking into some papers. He was slumped over his desk, his body drenched in a cold, sticky sweat. He was still wearing his ceremonial clothes from the previous day. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to shake the images away. The screams still echoed in his ears. The scent of blood and smoke lingered in his memory.

Outside the window, dawn was already breaking over the treeline of Dravengard. Nana’s words from the previous night rang in his head, clearer than the morning birds.

"No truth, no throne, Drek."

He sat there for a long moment, his chest heaving as he tried to separate the nightmare from the reality. The dream was always the same, never letting him have a full night rest.

Sighing, he stood up, his joints popping with the effort. He stripped off the heavy ceremonial coat, tossing it onto the chair without a second glance, crossing to the window and looking out over the estate. The woods beyond the treeline called to him. Leo stirred restlessly inside his chest, needing to run, needing to burn off the storm that still churned beneath his skin.

When he walked downstairs, the palace was still silent and sleeping. He slipped out of the side entrance and headed for the treeline. Once the shadow of the forest swallowed him, he stripped off the rest of his clothes, his skin prickling in the cool morning air. Then, he relinquished control to his beast.

Bones cracked. Fur rippled over skin. Leo surged forward, massive, black and powerful. The beast shook itself once, then bolted into the woods.

*

A few wings away, Kira woke up to the same grey dawn. She didn’t get out of bed immediately. She lay there, staring at the intricate patterns on the ceiling. She had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, the events of the previous night replayed in her head like a cruel loop.

The living room. The accusations. The maids’ words. Derek’s cold laughter. The way everyone had looked at her — doubt, disappointment, pity. Ruby’s tears, so perfectly timed. Nana’s gentle but helpless "Everyone makes mistakes." The way Derek had dismissed her without hearing her out.

She felt a sharp ache in her chest. He had called her a liar. In front of everyone. He had believed the worst of her without a second thought.

She sat up slowly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Well, fuck them all," she muttered. "Who cares what the think?"

She was Kira. She was the girl who had survived the Moonfang cellar. She had endured Alpha Rolf’s beatings and Lydia’s cruelty. If the Lycan King wanted to believe a lie, that was his business. She had lived through worse than a cold shoulder and a few accusations.

She walked over to the mirror in the room and smiled brightly, checking herself in the mirror. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her broken.

"It’s a beautiful new day, isn’t it?" she said to her reflection in the mirror.

A subtle knock came at the door.

Kira rolled her eyes. Better not be who she doesn’t want to see. "Come in," she called.

Mara walked in, carrying a bundle of fresh linens. Her face was a bit pale, but she managed a small smile when she saw Kira. "Good morning, Your Highness."

Kira’s heart softened. She remembered the girl’s absence the day before because of cramps. "Mara! How are you feeling? I heard you had cramps yesterday."

Mara paused, looking confused. She set the linens down on the couch. "Cramps, Your Highness? I didn’t have cramps. I had a sudden, terrible stomach upset. I couldn’t leave the bathroom for hours. Lady Ruby told me it was best to stay back and rest for the day. She said she would find someone else to attend to you so I wouldn’t pass anything on." Mara shook her head. "It must have been something I ate in the kitchen. I felt fine by evening, but by then, the ceremony was already over."

Kira felt the breath catch in her throat. The last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Mara didn’t have cramps. She was deliberately removed, so that everything would go as planned. Ruby had removed the one person Kira trusted and replaced her with someone who served her poisoned tea.