TO TAME THE BRUTAL LYCAN BEAST-Chapter 24: I KNOW YOUR SECRET

VALORIA WILDEROSE

"I will go prepare for your bath and the outfit you will wear out today."

I watch Yue move toward the bathroom, humming a song in her head, completely unaware of the turmoil raging in my mind.

I manage to hide my panic until she’s out the door, before I collapse off my bed, running toward the nearest potted plant and vomiting bile right into it.

My anxiety twists my stomach against me, purging every bit of sustenance from my body.

I don’t stop until it’s empty, falling back to catch my breath. A million questions swirl in my mind. Like... why her and not me?

He figured out I was a spy long before he did for her—why hasn’t he tried to kill me? Why didn’t he keep her alive to torment as well?

Is there a criterion to be selected for his games, or is it just something as flimsy as luck that makes me different? And if it is... just how long do I have until it runs out?

Everyone is gathering to watch the spy die a gruesome death, unaware that there’s another one in their midst, just waiting for everything to turn on her as well.

I don’t think I can stomach the sight of it, knowing I could be next any day. I don’t want to watch it.

I pace back and forth in my room, biting down on my already badly chipped nails, battering them further with unease.

Panicked and anxious, I wish the goddess could come back again and tell me what to do... she said it was going to get better, that I was destined for this.

None of this feels like any of that. If I were anyone else, maybe it would have been easier...

If I were cunning and deceptive like Marcella...

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door, forcing me to look toward it. Then, right in front of me, a note slips in from beneath the door.

I freeze and stare at the folded piece of paper sitting on the floor, shrouded in mystery, drawing me toward it.

My anxiety is forgotten, and curiosity pulls me closer. I pick up the note cautiously and unfold it slowly, revealing mismatched bold letters cut out of a magazine that read:

’I KNOW YOUR SECRET. IF YOU DON’T WANT TO BE EXPOSED, MEET ME AT THE OLD TOWER ON THE EAST SIDE OF THE CASTLE.’

My heart drops even lower, as if my day couldn’t get any worse. I become breathless, and the world around me begins to spin.

The door swings open out of nowhere, Yue walking in. I hide the note behind me just before she can notice anything.

"Your bath is ready."

I force a smile.

"Just give me a moment... please."

She stares at me a moment longer, as if reading right through me, before finally shrugging and leaving again.

I wait until her footsteps fade, then exhale deeply, emptying my lungs before pulling out the note to read it again.

I read it five more times, cramming every word into my mind before slipping it back into my pocket.

Surely, it’s not what I think...? How did they find out?

The only person who knows my secret until now is Azrael, and I doubt he’d stoop to this level of trickery—writing threats on paper when he can torture me physically.

No, he’d do something more flamboyant and flashy, savoring the horrified look on my face like wine.

Whoever it is isn’t close enough to His Majesty, threatening me with a secret they stumbled across by chance.

Or... could it be a ruse meant to scare me? I have more than a few recent enemies, so it’s possible.

I know I shouldn’t honor this invitation and play into this ploy, but I can’t ignore the possibility that hangs over my head.

If they do know—if somehow they found out I am a spy—they could announce it to everyone.

Azrael may have kept it to himself to torture me, but once it’s out, he’d have to make a spectacle of me to prove a point to other spies and show that the king is not someone to be toyed with.

I’d be royally fucked before I could do anything about it.

There’s no point overthinking this. I have no choice but to go.

* * *

AZRAEL

Cheers and chants of the many gathered around the arena echo explosively, feeding into the aura of the scene unfolding before our very eyes: the sentencing of a traitor.

I recall the countless stories spun about the ruthless tyrant king delighting in watching his women die, ignoring the fact that it was equally enjoyable to everyone else—every other wolfkind watching their own die like a game, with delighted entertainment.

Yet I’m painted as the cruel Lycan beast. It’s always been an intriguing thing to witness.

Werewolves have always been selfish and cruel to each other, their families, and sometimes their own mates.

They are mindless beasts that needed to be controlled and ruled, yet since the Great War and the rise of the Lycans, their selfish greed has been blamed on me.

Weak beings always desire something to blame; it’s never themselves for having lost the war or not being strong enough to defend their lands.

No, they’d much rather create a demon to blame.

And I personally very much enjoy being this demon of theirs. I have greater use of their fear than flimsy adoration.

Their foolishness and fear have been the foundation of my growing empire, ushering in a dawn of pain and destruction. Everything I’ve planned continues to flow smoothly.

The arena horns finally blow, signaling the start of the event.

The first door opens at one end below, revealing the concubine to be judged—her name completely escapes me, if I ever knew it.

We’ve been watching her for months, waiting for her to reveal herself, until finally she falls into the set trap. Now she staggers into the arena with wide, terrified eyes, swollen from tears.

And then, from afar, they fixate on me before every emotion morphs into searing, hateful resentment. Pointless crying and hatred after pointing a knife at her king; another example of the lack of accountability common to werewolves.

It’s obvious she blames me, the mad king, for her end—not her family, nor her own people for putting her up to this and sending her on a suicidal mission.

Regardless, she dies today, along with everyone related to her. Her entire bloodline will be wiped out, with only one left to tell the tale.

I yawn, letting out all the hot air from my lungs, and lean on one hand, suddenly engulfed with boredom. The typical enjoyment I find in gatherings like this is sadly absent today.