Chapter 48

Raven

The moment I dismounted and unsaddled my horse, I headed straight for Neil’s quarters. I needed to talk to him, tell him what I had just found out.

Stage 4 liver cancer. My father was going to die.

Yeah, well, not if I could help it.

I strode through the castle doors, my leather boots echoing against the stone floors as I headed straight toward Neil’s rooms. My jaw was set into a hard line, my hands clenched into tight fists at my sides.

The plan was simple enough: convince him to take me back, just for a short while. I would heal my dad (assuming I could), return, and then throw myself even harder into my training. I wouldn’t break our blood oath, and I would make sure Neil still had every chance to win the succession battle.

Surely he would understand. He had to.

But when I reached the corridor leading to the council chamber, I found the door closed and two guards stationed outside. They told me that Neil was inside, and that he wouldn’t be available for some time.

Great. A meeting. Of course. I let out a frustrated sigh and began pacing through the enormous castle hallways, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to sit still right now.

If I could just explain it to Neil, he was sure to see reason. I wasn’t abandoning him or our cause. I was just… borrowing some time. Time that my father didn’t exactly have.

My boots scuffed against the stone floor as I turned sharply, walking back the other way. How long could this meeting possibly take?

I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice Caleb until he stepped into my path. Neil’s brother, with his knowing gaze and his broad shoulders, was the last person I wanted to see right now.

“Pacing like a caged animal,” he observed, folding his arms as he looked down at me. His stormy gaze flicked over me for a moment before landing on my red-rimmed eyes. “Been crying, have we?”

I stiffened, my shoulders squaring. “What do you want, Caleb?” I bit out before I could stop myself.

He smirked at my slightly haggard appearance. “It’s pathetic, you know. Lycan women don’t cry. They fight, they kill, but they never cry.”

“Mind your own fucking business,” I growled, not caring about decorum at this moment. “And kindly fuck off.”

I moved to step around him, but his enormous arm shot out and blocked my path. Before I could even react, he was suddenly whirling us around the corner and shoving me back against the wall with enough force to knock the air from my lungs—and the phone from my pocket.

The stone was cold and unyielding against my spine, and his face loomed uncomfortably close to mine. But I wasn’t focused on that.

The phone was laying on the floor between us, damning as ever.

Thankfully, he was too focused on belittling me to see it. I managed to hide it beneath the heel of my boot before he could notice the device.

“Show a little respect,” he hissed, his hand pressing against my shoulder to keep me pinned against the wall. “You are speaking to the future Lycan King.”

My heart hammered in my chest, but I refused to show fear. I had learned enough about the Lycan world to know that my fear would only be used against me, and that this was a test.

Instead of cowering or crying out for the guards like I might have at one point, I lifted my chin and met his gaze with as much venom as I could muster, clamping my heel more firmly down on the phone to keep it hidden.

“I wouldn’t be so certain of that, Caleb,” I whispered, leaning forward so that I was mere inches from his face. “And for all you know, you are speaking to the future Lycan Queen. Perhaps my first command will be to whip you through the streets for putting your hands on me.”

Caleb’s sneer deepened, and his grip on my shoulder tightened. My words clearly didn’t faze him, not that I really expected him to.

“You don’t even act like a Lycan, let alone smell like one,” he said, his voice low and full of disdain. His nostrils flared as he bent his head down, inhaling the scent of my neck.

I recoiled, my stomach turning as I felt his nose brush against my skin.

“Get off me, you creep,” I snarled, shoving him to no avail. Even with all my training, he was still practically three times my size. My attempted push just resulted in being shoved even harder against the wall. I could hardly even breathe.

“I’m onto you, Serena,” he hissed, his breath hot against my ear. “Watch yourself.”

Then, just as quickly as he had grabbed me, he released me, taking a step back. He cast one last lip-curling sneer at me over his shoulder before striding away down the hall.

I let out a shaky breath, leaning against the wall for support. My pulse was still racing, but I forced myself to calm down. I quickly bent down and retrieved the phone.

“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath when I saw that the screen was shattered from the force of my boot. Of course. Because things weren’t bad enough already.

Before I could spiral any further, the door to the meeting room creaked open. I quickly slipped the phone back into my pocket, rushing around the corner to see Neil standing there. He looked tired but composed, his sharp features betraying none of the weariness that lingered in his eyes.

“Raven.”

I straightened, flicking my gaze toward the guards. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

He studied me for a moment, then nodded, understanding what I was hinting at. “Come with me.”

I followed him down the hall, away from the guards and any other prying eyes. Neil led me into a small, empty chamber, closing the door behind us. He turned to face me, his expression serious.

“Did you manage to speak to your father?” he whispered.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself. “Yes,” I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. “He’s… He’s sick. Stage 4 liver cancer. He’s dying, Neil.”

His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, I thought I saw genuine concern flicker across his face. But then his expression hardened again, and I couldn’t help but assume he was thinking about the succession battle and the inconvenience that my departure would cause.

“I need to go home,” I continued, my words spilling out in a rush. “Just for a little while. I can heal him—I think I can, anyway. I’ll come back, I promise. I’ll train harder, I’ll do whatever it takes to help you win the battle, but I can’t just… let him die.”

Neil was silent, his gaze fixed on me. I found myself holding my breath, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

Finally, he stepped forward. Before I could react, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his warm, broad chest. His fingers tangled in my hair as his hand cradled the back of my head.

“I’m sorry, Raven,” he murmured, holding me impossibly close.