Chapter 89: The Heir Apparent

Kira watched Sandra strut up the front deck, her heels clicking with an arrogance that set Kira’s teeth on edge. She was clutching the hand of the young boy—a child with amber eyes that looked far too much like a mirror of Derek’s own.

Fury coiled in Kira’s chest. She didn’t care what history lay between them, but the sheer disrespect of this woman bringing a child to this house where they were spending their honeymoon was a line she wouldn’t allow her to cross. It was clear Sandra didn’t know when to quit.

"Excuse me," Kira called out. "Can I help you with something? Or are you lost?"

Sandra didn’t even glance up. She simply ignored Kira, crouching down to the boy’s level and smiling sweetly. "Sweetheart, go inside and wait for Mummy, okay? Go on."

"No," Kira said, her tone hardening. She offered the boy a small, forced smile of her own. "Actually, sweetheart, why don’t you head back to the car and wait there? Your mother won’t be staying long."

The little boy looked between the two women, his small face pinched with uncertainty. After a tense silence, Sandra straightened, the fake sweetness sliding off her face as she gestured for him to go back. The boy nodded and scrambled back towards the vehicle.

"He has been pestering me since he heard the King had arrived at Snow Crest," Sandra said, turning to Kira with a look of feigned exhaustion. "I simply had to bring him today."

Kira crossed her arms over her chest. "Sandra," she called, her voice laced with poison. "I’m going to give you exactly five seconds to turn around and leave this property with your dignity and your limbs still intact."

Sandra’s brows drew together, and she stared at Kira as though she had just grown two heads. "Why on earth would I do that? I just told you—"

"It’s your sheer audacity for me," Kira spat, taking a step forward, trying to intimidate the woman, even though she was smaller. "I warned you last night to stay away from my husband. If you stay a second longer, you’re going to find out exactly what I’m capable of."

Sandra didn’t flinch. Instead, she looked Kira up and down with a condescending pity that made Kira want to scream. "You know, for someone who claims to have the King’s heart, you’re remarkably insecure," she drawled, her eyes dancing.

"And for someone who was discarded years ago, you’re remarkably delusional," Kira shot back.

"Am I?" Sandra stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Is that what he told you? That he dumped me? Or are you just terrified that he’ll rekindle his old flame? You know what they say about a man’s first love, don’t you?"

"Ms Sandra, that is enough," Flora’s voice rang out as she appeared behind Kira. "You are disturbing the Queen’s peace. I must ask you to leave."

Sandra scoffed looking at the older woman with disdain. "I’d like to see you try and make me. This house belongs to the Wolfes, and my son is a Wolfe. He has every right to be here."

"Not during the King’s honeymoon," Flora countered firmly.

Kira turned away, her head spinning. If Derek already had a son, why was he so obsessed with her providing an heir? Was the marriage just a sick game? As she moved to go inside, a convoy of black vehicles roared up the driveway, led by a familiar Rolls-Royce.

She didn’t want to see him again. She scoffed and stormed into the house, the door clicking shut behind her.

When Derek stepped from his car, little Ralph ran straight for him. Derek froze for a fraction of a second, his amber eyes flicking to the doorway where Kira had just vanished. Then, with a sigh, he knelt to the boy’s level.

"Hey, Ralph, how have you been?" Derek’s voice was uncharacteristically soft as he reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair.

"I’m well, Your Grace," Ralph replied, giving a stiff, tiny bow.

Derek stood, took the boy’s small hand, and walked him back to Sandra’s car.

"Oh, Drek," Sandra cooed, sashaying toward him. "I brought him to see you. It’s been far too long, hasn’t it?"

Derek didn’t answer. He simply stared at her, his amber eyes turning to cold, dead stone.

"I won’t ask what you’re doing here," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Because it is clear the asylum made a grave error in declaring you mentally fit."

He turned to the Gammas who had stepped out of the following cars. "Get this woman off this property. If she ever shows her face near me again, shoot her on sight."

"Yes, Your Grace!" the warriors barked in unison. Sandra’s cooing turned to shrieks of outrage as they hauled her back toward her car.

Without a backward glance, Derek marched into his study. Declan, Connor, and a handful of high-ranking Gammas trailed behind him like shadows. When they all entered his study, he flopped down behind his desk and fixed Connor with a stare.

"Still no word from Bruce, Your Grace," Connor reported. "We can’t pinpoint the motive for the breach yet, but we need to tighten the net, since those evil creatures have started showing up again."

"Are we really going to sit here and play dumb?" Declan interrupted, looking between the two men.

Connor glanced at him. "We have no proof she’s involved, Declan. She was in the line of fire, too."

"She is Rolf Thornclaw’s daughter!" Declan snapped. "How convenient is it that the Shadow Wolves strike the moment the King is away from the fortress?"

"That’s enough, Declan," Derek cautioned. "Rolf might be her father, but you and I know that he hates her. You know everything."

"I know the history," Declan countered, leaning over the desk. "But what if that’s the play? To make you soft? To make you let your guard down?"

Derek’s jaw worked, but he remained silent for a moment, then, he looked down at the tactical map on his tablet. "Connor, station your best units at the four main entrances. Double the training shifts. I want every young man in Dravengard ready for war. Declan, focus on the alliances. We’ll hold off on the Volkovs for now."

Declan nodded, though his expression remained grim. "I’ll keep a watch on the borders."

"Do that. You’re dismissed," Derek said, waving them away.

Connor and the guards filed out, but Declan lingered. Derek sighed, rubbing his temples. "Not now, Declan. I don’t want the lecture."

"Hear me out," Declan said, raising his hands. "All I’m saying is don’t let your guard down. You can’t trust this thing you’re feeling for her. You know you can’t. Love will only destroy you."

"For the last time, Declan. I’m not in love."

"Really? Maybe you can tell that to someone who doesn’t know you, Derek. But I’ve known that from the first day you saw that girl at that riverbank in Moonfang, you’ve not been yourself where she is. You tolerate things from her you’d kill anyone else for. Use her for the plan, finish the contract, but don’t fall for the facade."

Derek’s mouth twitched, the corner of his lip pulling upward. Declan squinted at him. "Did I say something funny?"

Derek’s smile broadened. "Speaking of the plan... I think she’s pregnant already."

Declan’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Are you serious?"

"She hasn’t said a word. She’s keeping it a secret."

Declan’s brow furrowed in confusion. "Why on earth would she hide it?"

"I don’t know. But for now, hold your tongue and let her tell me in her own time." Derek stood up, pulling his jacket straight. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Queen to deal with before we return to the capital."

He reached for the door, but Declan’s voice stopped him cold.

"What if it’s a girl, Derek? Will you still go through with it?"

Derek’s entire frame went rigid, his hand tightening on the doorknob. "It will be a boy," he said, his voice low, rough, and final. He didn’t wait for a response before stepping out.