Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 245

Orion's POV

The leather steering wheel creaked under my grip as I navigated through the familiar streets toward my parents' estate. Beside me, Thalia fidgeted with the hem of her dress, her nervousness filling the car with the sharp scent of anxiety that even the air conditioning couldn't dispel.

*This is going to be a disaster,* I thought grimly, keeping my expression neutral. I knew my parents blamed me for not saving her. For choosing duty over blood.

"Orion..." Thalia's voice was soft, hesitant. "I really don't think this is the right time to meet your parents."

I glanced at her, noting how she'd carefully styled her hair and chosen a modest dress—trying so hard to make a good impression on people who would hate her on principle. My chest tightened.

"It's just a formality," I said, keeping my tone light. "Alpha Ezra wants our relationship officially recognized. Protocol demands we start with family."

"But your sister just—" She cut herself off, biting her lip.

"I know." My jaw clenched involuntarily. "Trust me, I'm aware of the timing."

"Can't we wait? Just a few weeks until..." She trailed off again, unable to finish the sentence. Until they're done mourning. Until they stop hating you.

I reached over and took her hand, squeezing gently. "Don't overthink it, sweetheart. It'll be a brief conversation. Over before you know it."

She searched my face, her green eyes worried. "I just feel terrible doing this now. Your parents are grieving."

"They'll be fine," I said, forcing casualness into my voice. "

*And after today, they'll weather it without me.*

The truth was, I knew my father would likely disown me the moment he saw Thalia. Bringing home a common werewolf as my mate would be the final insult after "allowing" Evanthe's execution. But Alpha Ezra had given an order, and I would follow it. I always did.

We pulled into the gated driveway of my father's estate.

"We're here," I announced, parking near the grand entrance.

Thalia's smile was forced, her face pale despite the makeup she'd carefully applied. She looked beautiful—she always did—but terror radiated from every pore.

I got out and walked around to open her door, offering my hand. She took it, her palm damp with sweat, and I pulled her close for a moment.

"Remember," I murmured against her hair, "you're my mate. Nothing they say changes that."

She nodded against my chest, then pulled back and straightened her shoulders. Together, we walked toward the entrance.

I rang the doorbell.

A servant answered, his eyes widening in recognition before he bowed low. "Good day, Gamma Orion."

"Good day. Are my parents in?"

"Upstairs, sir. Shall I announce you?"

"Please."

He hurried away, leaving us in the marble foyer. Thalia stood rigid beside me, her face flushed with anxiety.

"Do you want to sit?" I gestured toward the elegant chairs arranged near the entrance.

"No," she said quickly, shaking her head. "I definitely can't sit. Let me just... stand."

I understood. Sitting would make this feel permanent, real. Standing, she could still run if needed.

*Not that I'd let her.*

"You're the one who let that bastard Ezra kill your sister for the stupidest reasons!"

My father's voice boomed from the staircase before he even appeared. When he did, his face was twisted with permanent rage, the lines around his mouth carved deep by days of fury.

"Father," I began, but he cut me off.

"Don't you dare! You sided with that arrogant fool, let him murder your sister for—what? Some ridiculous accusations? She was your blood!"

Behind me, I felt Thalia shrink back, trying to make herself invisible. The scent of her fear spiked.

"Stupid reasons?" I kept my voice level, though anger stirred in my chest. "You call conspiracy to commit murder stupid reason?"

"She was your sister!" He roared the words like that single fact should override everything.

"I warned her," I said, each word measured. "Again and again, I told her to abandon those futile pursuits. She refused to listen. She brought this on herself."

The slap came fast, my father's hand connecting with my cheek with enough force to snap my head sideways. The sound echoed through the foyer like a gunshot.

Behind me, Thalia gasped.

I slowly turned my head back, meeting his furious gaze. My cheek stung, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me touch it. Not in front of Thalia. I had to stay composed, had to show her I was in control even when my own father attacked me.

"Father," I said, my voice carefully neutral. "I didn't come here to discuss Evanthe."

His eyes narrowed. "Then why did you come? To gloat? To show me how you've risen while your family falls?"

"I came to introduce you to someone." I stepped aside, gently pulling Thalia forward. She trembled under my touch, but stood tall. "This is Thalia. My mate."

The change in his expression was instantaneous. Fury morphed into revulsion, his lip curling as his gaze raked over her.

"A common werewolf?" The words dripped with disgust. "You mated with a common werewolf?"

"Her name is Thalia," I said firmly.

"You're not my son!" He spat the words like venom. "No son of mine would mate with a commoner! First you betray your sister, now this?"

His eyes burned with hatred as he looked at Thalia, and I felt my control beginning to slip. My wolf, Talon, stirred restlessly.

"As if conspiring to have my daughter executed wasn't enough," he continued, his voice rising, "you have the audacity to bring this... this symbol of weakness... this... this thing into my home!"

"Father!" The word came out as a growl. "Watch your tone."

"Don't tell me what tone to use in my own house!" He roared back, spittle flying from his lips.

For a moment, we stood frozen, the air between us charged with violence waiting to erupt.

Then he made a sound—half sob, half scream. "I'm cursed! Cursed!"

Before I could react, he lunged forward with surprising speed, his finger jabbing toward my face.

"As of this moment, I am not your father. I no longer acknowledge you as my son. If you call me father again, I'll give you more than a slap. I never want to see your face again."

The words hit harder than his hand had.

Instead, I smiled. A cold, knowing smile that made his face darken further.

"You'll regret this," I said softly. "Someday, sir, you'll be ashamed of what you've done. Ashamed of how you enabled Evanthe, how you ruined her life by never teaching her limits. And when that day comes, when you're choking on your guilt, you'll send someone to find me. You'll want to apologize before you take your last breath."

I stepped closer, holding his gaze. "I'll be waiting for that day."

His face went purple with rage, but I was already turning away, taking Thalia's trembling hand in mine.

"Goodbye, Mr. Hawthorne."

We walked out together, leaving him alone with his hatred and his ghosts.