Defying the Lycan King-Chapter 11: Poisoned

Kira’s eyes flew open at the doctor’s words, every trace of sleep disappearing instantly.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Speak."

"The Queen has a wolf, contrary to what her scent says," Lorenzo said carefully. "It’s there, but it has been suppressed for a long time now. Likely from long-term use of aconite extract and fadevine. We found traces in her blood."

"What?" Kira whispered, eyes wide. "What do you mean I have a wolf? I’ve never shifted."

Lorenzo turned to her, looking sorry. "Yes, Your Highness. The poisons probably stopped you from shifting."

Derek knew both poisons well. Wolfsbane in its pure form kills wolves, but when diluted, it keeps the wolf weak and asleep. Fadevine is an odourless, tasteless mixture that weakens the wolf’s bond to the moon, blocks shifting, and mutes senses.

Lorenzo went on. "The levels in your blood would kill most wolves outright. But since yours is suppressed, I drew a little energy from it to speed your healing."

Kira was taken aback by the information. How could she not have known about this? She had never felt any different.

"Thank you, Lorenzo," Derek said, nodding. "And keep this quiet."

"Of course, Your Grace." The doctor bowed and left with Julia, closing the door softly behind them.

Derek’s cold gaze turned back to Kira. "Seems there’s more to you than meets the eye."

"I don’t even know about this," Kira said, trying to defend herself.

But Derek looked at her without an ounce of conviction. "First thing tomorrow, we’re going to Moonfang. I don’t trust liars."

***

Ruby had just finished dropping off the welfare reports, and was heading down the corridor when the heavy oak doors of the royal quarters swung open. Dr Lorenzo and his young assistant were emerging from the queen’s bedroom. She quickly ducked behind a pillar, heart giving a small, curious thud as she watched the two healers walk towards the stairs.

Once they were gone, she stepped out and stared at the werewolf girl’s bedroom door. Why were the royal healers in there? What secret is the King keeping from the pack now?

Was the so-called Queen fragile? Was she sick? And if so, was it a simple fever, or something the pack would find... interesting? She needed answers. She needed a smoking gun to prove that this marriage was fake.

As if the universe were answering her call, the door opened again. King Derek stepped out, looking tired and more than a little irritable.

"Your Grace," Ruby called, walking toward him with a smooth smile.

Derek halted, his shoulders tensing as he turned to face her. "Ruby? What are you doing here?"

"I was just leaving, but I couldn’t help but notice Dr Lorenzo leaving the Queen’s chambers," she said, her eyes searching his face for any crack in the mask. "I wanted to offer my congratulations on the wedding again, of course, but now I’m worried. Is she quite alright?"

Derek turned and started walking again. "The queen is a bit under the weather.

Nothing for you to lose sleep over." He reached his study door without looking back. "Have a good night."

Before she could squeeze another question out, the door clicked shut, leaving her standing alone in the silent corridor. Ruby stared at the wood, her eyes narrowing. A little under the weather. Nothing to lose sleep over. He was lying. She could smell the tension on him, and she wasn’t about to let it go.

***

When Kira woke up the next morning, the vast bedroom was empty, and the only sound was her phone beeping non-stop. She grabbed it off the nightstand, frowning as she squinted at the screen. Jessica had blown up her phone with texts and missed calls. Kira smiled a little despite everything. She would talk to her bestie later, once she got to campus.

She swung her legs out of bed and paused. There was no pain, not even a twinge across her back. Just like Lorenzo had promised. A bit of ointment for a few more days and she would be good as new.

In the shower, warm water running over her skin, her mind went straight back to what the healer had said last night. Someone had been poisoning her for years. Aconite. Fadevine. Enough to kill most wolves. But who?

Who could possibly want her dead? Why wasn’t she dead yet? The memory of her father’s face flashed in her mind, that look of zero regret and nothing but cold hate. Tears burned her eyes at the thought, but she quickly shook her head. No, it couldn’t be him. If he had wanted her gone, he could’ve ended it when she was a helpless baby. Why drag it out with slow poison?

Her thoughts began to spin through years of memories: the rogue attacks she had narrowly escaped, the night her bedroom had mysteriously caught fire, and all those "accidents" that had happened over the years. The ones where her father had called her careless and uncouth. Were they really just accidents, or were they carefully planned attempts on her life? Could it be Lydia? Or was there someone else lurking in the shadows? Was she even safe?

She stepped out of the shower, wrapped herself in a towel, and padded to the walk-in wardrobe, hunting for her own clothes, but found nothing, not a single thing of hers.

She felt suddenly, properly alone. There was no one in her corner, not her father, not the man who was now technically her husband. Derek had made it crystal clear last night that he didn’t trust her, or any werewolf. In his eyes, she was part of some grand conspiracy.

"So why marry one?" she scoffed. "Why pick a bride you’re convinced is the enemy?"

For a wild second, she pictured just running, far, far away from Moonfang, Dravengard, and from Aethelwulf Centralis as a whole. Disappearing into human territory, starting over somewhere no one knew her name. She was basically human anyway, right? No wolf, no pack ties. She could do it.

A soft knock snapped her out of it. Mara walked in with a warm greeting, carrying several pieces of clothing draped over her arm.

"Good morning, Your Highness. Sleep okay?"

"Yeah, thanks, Mara. You?"

"Quiet night. No wars breaking out, at least." Mara gave a small, wry smile.

Kira didn’t really understand what the woman meant by that. From where she stood, it was the Lycans who had started the wars and oppressed the werewolves for so long, but she decided to let the comment slide.

"I can’t find any of my stuff," Kira said, gesturing at the wardrobe. "Any idea where it went?"

"Oh, right." Mara laid the clothes neatly on the bed. "Your old things were taken away. These are just samples for today. They were brought in this morning. More will arrive later today."

Kira blinked. "What?"

"King’s orders," Mara said simply. "And you’re wanted downstairs for the family introductory breakfast at half past seven. I’m here to help you get ready."

Kira stared at the pile of expensive-looking outfits, then at Mara, then back at the clothes. Queen life was hitting her like a freight train, and she was definitely not buckled in.