Chapter 136

Sophia

I expected a grander entrance. You know, a red carpet, a few mini water bottles, maybe some hot hors d’oeuvres passed around on a tray. But no. Rude.

The grand tent smelled like a perfume store that got into a knife fight with a butcher shop. Lavish silks, glittering chandeliers (who even travels with chandeliers?), and fur-lined cushions made the space look like a royal harem meets a very successful drug dealer’s hideaway.

Not my taste, but sure—go off, King.

Not that I could complain, it was still better then my ragged cabin.

I sat cross-legged in one of the velvet chairs, picking at my cuticle with a file (because nail health still matters in war, duh). Across from me, Gingi stood beside the Rogue King, GrimMaw, holding her usual “I’m too brilliant for emotions” face while going on and on about genetics or curses or whatever.

I’ve met her a few times in the past, but even I could never get past that poker face. Not surprised she turned up here. Besides, those loafers were more then criminal.

I was trying to pay attention, I really was. But I was too busy looking at the jewels, gold rings and this gorgeous silk on GrimMaw’s desk. And honestly, it was a bit distracting.

“…the real importance is in the bloodline,” Gingi was saying, arms crossed like she was giving a lecture to a bunch of disobedient college students. She had been on some speech about Lauren and her family. Genetics or something. “Mark was born broken because of who the mother mated with. But Owen? Owen’s proof. The son of an Alpha-mated female in a Lycan line. Little to no mutation. No madness or mental blocks. Just strength. Controlled. That’s the path forward.”

The Rogue King, lounging on a throne made of what I’m pretty sure was actual elephant horn, nodded with this little hum of agreement. “Right… soon that disgusting creature will be put out of its misery. And all I need to do,” he smirked, teeth flashing, “is mate with Lauren until she gives me a son.”

Gag. Double gag, really.

Gingi finished for him, smiling like she’d just solved world peace. “And that son will be the next rightful Lycan King. More powerful then the Alpha’s once matured.”

“And until then,” the GrimMaw added, “Lauren and Alexander’s future offspring technically outrank every Alpha on the continent. Including that old man, King Alpha there's.”

“Which explains why he’s so scared of them,” Gingi said smugly. “Of Lauren. Maybe he knows too.”

“So we’ll need to kill those pip squeaks?” He asked.

Gingi nodded, “Yes. In theory, to ensure your line.”

“Hm,” GrimMaw leaned back. “Not a problem. They will be here soon. I knew my son would get all noble and try and do the right thing. What an idiot. Well, good thing I had those mystic chains forged early for our guest.”

I shifted in my seat, swinging one leg over the other with a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, yeah, curses and kings and bloodlines—thrilling. Can we talk about the actual reason I’m here?” I flashed a pointed smile. “My money. Our deal. You promised.”

The King laughed, deep and greasy, like someone who thinks they’re charming after three drinks. “Don’t worry, little fox. You’ll get what you were promised. You brought me the bait, didn’t you?”

I twirled a ring on my finger. “Oh, I brought the whole damn trap.”

I’d brought Mark. They’d fed the information to Theo, let Mark be seen, dangled just enough hope. Lauren and Alexander would come. Of course they would.

And they’d lose.

“Speak of the devils,” the King murmured as a sudden yell echoed from outside the tent—followed by clashing steel, snarling, panic.

A fight breaking out.

Showtime.

He rose with a predator’s grace, shaking out his fur-lined cloak like a villain in a soap opera. “Let’s go greet our guests.”

Gingi turned, her face lit with cold curiosity. I followed—except I didn’t move right away.

My heart was pounding in my chest. Weird.

Not nerves. Not exactly.

Gingi paused at the entrance. “Sophia?”

I jumped. “Yeah! Yep. Totally fine.” I forced a smile. “Just mentally preparing for the victory dance I’m going to do over Lauren’s corpse.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Mm.”

I didn’t really care when we saw the fighting outside, or the blood—wolves tearing into one another, claws flashing. Firelight lit the clearing like the end of the world.

I didn’t care when I saw Lauren being dragged like some broken prize, her fawny fur stained red, her expression wild with fury and betrayal.

Her eyes met mine—full of disbelief. Horror.

Then hate.

I did however, cared when she spat on me.

Full force, right in front of everyone.

It hit my cheek and ran down like rain.

I didn’t, however, wipe it away instantly. I just stared at her, letting her see the steel in my spine before I said, softly:

“You’re getting everything you deserve, Imposter.”

They pulled her past me, toward the bed prepared in the tent. I didn’t look. I couldn’t.

Instead, my eyes flicked to Alexander—bloodied, chained, screaming her name like it could save her.

And for a moment, just a breath, I held his eyes. They used to mean so much to me. I thought the next I should see those orbs, I would be more upset. Maybe cry again like I once had.

But I surprised myself, I felt nothing for him. Almost like looking at a stranger. I guess I always was one to him anyways.

“Hmm.” Gingi’s voice hummed by my ear. “Do I see doubt in your eyes?”

I smirked, my hand twitching at my side. “You misread me.”

“I doubt that,” she said, still watching me too closely. “But no matter. You made the right choice all the same.”

Of course I had.

I looked back at Lauren—thrown down like a rag doll, chained to the bed. The Rogue King approaching her, like she was food on a table.

And suddenly, I wasn’t smirking anymore.

“Yeah, well…” I murmured, watching the King reach for her, his shadow eclipsing her entire body. “I’ve done worse then this.”

Gingi tilted her head. “Hm?”

“I’ve been a thief,” I said, voice sharp and light all at once as I plucked a few gold necklaces from the King’s desk, clasping them onto me. “A liar. A cheater. A manipulator. I’ve even been an attempted murderer once or twice. Child kidnapping, falsifying a marriage—you name it, girl, I’ve done it.”

Gingi turned toward me, lips pressed in an expectant line.

“You know, I’m a bad person. Like, the worst. But there’s one thing I can’t turn a blind eye to in all this.” I raised a diamond ring to my finger, slipping it on.

Lauren whimpered. Her eyes were closed. She looked like a girl again—not some prophesied Luna. Not an Alpha. Just a scared girl who’d been too strong for too long.

I suddenly wondered if she played dress up when she was young too.

I stepped forward.

Maybe she dreamed of being a princess, or made her dolls fight over a boy.

“I may have tried to kill her once,” I said, rolling my neck like I was shaking off something heavy. “Or twice. But this?” I looked at Gingi, motioning to GrimMaw pinning Lauren down.

“This is worse than death.”

Gingi’s eyes widened just enough to tell me she didn’t see it coming.

Which was perfect.

Because I punched her in the face with the ring.

Hard.

Gingi staggered back with a shocked gasp, clutching her nose, collapsing into the dresser.

And before the Rogue King could fully turn, I pulled the whistle from my pocket—silver and sharp.

Everyone froze.

Lauren. The King. Gingi.

With a smirk, I blew.

A piercing, shrieking sound ripped through the air.

For one glorious second, I stood in the tent, hands on my hips, gold chains slung over my shoulders like stolen trophies, and said with a grin:

“Sorry, GrimMaw, love, but I made a new friend. And… you put him in a cage.”

The Rogue King’s mouth dropped open.

I winked, sliding another one of his own expensive rings onto my finger. “By the way—your taste in jewelry? Questionable. But I’ll take it.”

And outside the tent—

A sound shattered the air.

Metal splitting.

Mark.

Breaking out of his cage.

Right on time, right as we planned.

Good boy.