Chapter 148

Chapter 148 - The Prince’s Fury 3rd Person Prince Damon stared at the television screen, apoplectic with rage. He didn't know how Sinclair found out about the story he’d leaked to the Current, and he didn’t really care. The end result was the same: Here was the Moon Valley Alpha and his wretched little Luna on live TV, accusing him of corruption and murder. What was worse, the reporters were eating it up without any semblance of concern for the lies Sinclair had been telling these last few months.

The Prince’s own investigators hadn’t figured out that Ella had been living as a human all these years, and now it seemed there wouldn’t be any need for them to continue digging, because she was about to explain how this all began.

The glowing she-wolf exchanged a nod with her mate, before turning back to the crowd. “The truth is that the beginning of our relationship is a mystery to us both. We were both desperate for children, after years of trying and failing with our partners. I didn’t know it at the time, but I wasn’t conceiving because I was with a human, and long story short, I went to a sperm bank thinking it was my last chance to get pregnant. Dominic had sent his own sperm there for analysis, and somehow it ended up getting mixed up with the sample from the donor I'd chosen.”

“When Dominic scented his heir in my womb a few days later, we didn’t understand how I was able to conceive a shifter’s child, and now of course the mystery is who or what led to that fateful mix up, because we might not have created this baby the traditional way, but we fell in love so fast and fiercely that there’s no doubt it was meant to be.” She explains, her silken voice full of warmth as she gazes up at the Alpha in question. “All we can say is the Goddess works in mysterious ways.”

Excited mutters about the goddess and fate wove throughout the room, and Prince Damon gripped the back of the sofa so hard that his claws ripped into the upholstery. This was unbelievable. Why didn’t anyone care that they had been lying all this time —

they’d just confessed they didn’t even know each other when the bitch conceived and the press was still fawning all over them.

Romantic fools! He thought bitterly. What was wrong with this species? So brainless that they could be swayed by starry eyed fantasies and fairy tales about the Goddess.

He shut the television off when one of the reporters obsequiously cried, “When did you realize you were in love?”

“Bring Lydia to me, right now.” He ordered the guard beside him, “ Then tell my father to clear his schedule. We need to talk.”

When Lydia walked in a little while later, her demeanor skittish and uncertain, he could only growl wordlessly. “What’s happened?” She asked, clearly balking.

“Sinclair's outmaneuvered us again. He just announced that Ella’s wolf was dormant and that he lied about her past to protect her.”

The Prince explained. “Then he accused me of planning the rogue attack and kidnapping her, and he had footage of the second meeting!”

Lydia’s eyes widened in horror, and she began backing away from him warily. “The current must have called them for a comment on the story.”

“A comment! A comment!” Damon ranted. “And you didn't think that Sinclair would take the opportunity to beat us to the punch!

Nobody even cares that they lied because he turned it into a fucking romantic comedy! I told you that this was your last chance, you stupid cow!”

‘But it wasn’t my fault!” Lydia cried, fear rolling off of her in waves. “All I’ve ever done is try to help you!”

“I never would have kidnapped Ella if it wasn’t for you — they would never have had that footage, Sinclair would have continued to quietly counter us in private if we hadn’t pissed him off so much!” The Prince thundered, stalking Lydia across the room, his wolf glowing in his eyes. “You've done nothing but screw things up from the first moment you walked into my life, and now you’ve ruined any chance I had at being King!”

“Then I'll leave!” Lydia offered frantically, correctly sensing the mortal danger she was facing. “I'll go away and you'll never hear from me again, you have my word.”

Women. Damon mused bitterly. Always so eager to stick their noses where they don’t belong, but never willing to take responsibility for their actions. Never willing to get their hands dirty themselves. In that moment, the hints Ella had dropped about the Princess’s murder suddenly clicked in Damon’s mind.

Poison. He thought, that’s why Ella said it was a feminine tactic, because it’s passive. Maybe it was the way Lydia was cowering in front of him, but Ella’s next clue suddenly seemed only too obvious. Who would benefit from her death?

Understanding crashed into Damon, and suddenly all of Lydia’s actions since she had inserted herself into his world made sense.

He realized that she’d always attached herself to powerful men, bouncing from one to the next every time they became wise to her treachery. “But you don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” The Prince responded in a snarl. “Your husband tossed you to the curb, Sinclair rejected you. You’ve never worked a day in your life, it must have seemed like a golden opportunity when I suddenly became single, right when you were on the verge of losing everything. In fact, that was quite some coincidence, wasn't it?”

Lydia trembled violently as the Prince moved nearer, circling like a bird of prey. She turned as he moved, afraid to let him out of her line of sight. “W-what do you mean?”

“Well it strikes me that she was killed in a woman’s restroom. And no male wolves were scented around her body.” He reasoned sharply. “And poison... such anon-confrontational weapon.”

“Listen, I know what you think, but it isn’t true.” Lydia stammered. “You're letting them trick you. I know Ella put these ideas in your head.”

“The only way you could know that is if you were eavesdropping.” Damon accused angrily. “And they’re not the only ones who have been trying to manipulate me.” He continued, thinking of Sinclair’s comments about Lydia’s interference. He might be a despicable, self-righteous, mongrel — but he hadn’t been wrong about his ex-wife’s insolence. “You probably thought you could make me fall for you eventually, if you played your cards right. Tell me, did you want to help me or yourself, Lydia? Did you care if I became King, or did you just want to be a queen and you were willing to go through anyone and anything that stood in your way?”

“It wasn't like that!” Lydia insisted desperately. “And besides, Angeline’s death helped your campaign more than all of your efforts to discredit Sinclair combined.”

“So that’s your defense? You killed my mate, but I shouldn’t be bothered because it helped me in the polls?”

“No! Of course not!” Lydia pleaded, knowing she was backed into a corner now but helpless to think of a way out. “I didn’t... I didn’t kill her. I would never do such a thing, you have to believe me!”

“You were willing to let your own fated mate die for your ambitions.” Damon reminded her. “You didn’t care about attacking a breeding woman and killing her unborn pup despite your supposed love for children. So why should you give a damn about my mate?”

“Because I respect you too much to ever cross you.” Lydia professed, dropping to her knees. “You're my Prince, I would never do anything to displease you.”

“And when did that begin? You helped Sinclair oppose me for years with no such loyalty. Let’s be honest, Lydia. Your allegiance goes to n.ovelebook the highest bidder, the man who can offer you the most power and status.” The Prince grumbled, unable to unsee her true colors now that they’d been revealed. “You’re a scheming, gold-digging, narcissist, and you saw fit to take my mate — your princess - from me, for your own selfish gain.

Lydia tearfully shook her head, knowing she’d lost. “Please, just let me go, I’ll do anything.”

“It’s too late for that.” Damon snapped, closing the distance between them. “I should have done this the moment you tried to tell me how to run my own fucking campaign.”

“Please, have mercy.” Lydia begged, sobbing now as she tried to scrabble away from the approaching predator.

“Shut the hell up!” Damon snarled, lashing out with his claws. He wanted to make her suffer — it was, after all, the only thing she- wolves were good for in his mind, but he didn't have time to waste. He needed to speak with his father and do damage control before the Alpha Council could think to issue a warrant for his arrest, and torturing the worthless creature in front of him would only cut into that — no matter how pleasurable it might be. His claws caught Lydia neck and dug deep, ripping out her throat and ceasing her pitiful moaning once and for all.

Her lifeless body fell at his feet, and he stepped over her and strode out the door, wiping her blood on his trousers. “Clean that up.” He ordered the stone faced guard at the door, before he disappeared down the hall, headed for the King’s study.