His Abandoned Luna Chapter 110

|| Alaric’s POV ||

The room was dimly lit, the flickering glow of the television casting long shadows across the walls. I checked my watch for what felt like the hundredth time, the seconds ticking by with agonizing slowness. My father sat across from me, his face twisted in a scowl as he took another sip from his glass. The amber liquid swirled as he raised it to his lips, his movements sharp and deliberate. The news played on a loop in the background, Kael’s smug face plastered across the screen as reporters praised his “heroic” decision to step back into the race for Alpha King.

“Bastard,” my father muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with venom. Without warning, he hurled his glass across the room, the crystal shattering against the wall. This was the third one tonight.

I raised an eyebrow, leaning back in my chair.

“Have you called me over here to show me how many glasses you can break?” I asked, my tone dry.

My father’s eyes snapped to mine, his anger palpable.

“That brat knows nothing about politics,” he spat, his voice rising. “He’s a fool, a puppet dancing on strings he doesn’t even see.”

I smirked, crossing my arms over my chest. “Is that so? From where I’m sitting, he’s doing pretty well for himself.”

My father’s face darkened, his hands clenching into fists. “How can you stay so calm? He dragged your name through the mud, Alaric. Your fucking name!”

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “And? What’s new in this? He has done it before.”

My father stared at me, his chest heaving with barely contained rage.

“He doesn’t deserve to be king,” he said finally, his voice low and bitter.

For the first time in my life, I couldn’t help but agree with him. Kael was a fool, a puppet dancing on strings pulled by Cassandra and her schemes. But I kept my thoughts to myself, my expression unreadable.

“Why did you recommend Alexander?” my father asked suddenly, his narrowing down to me.

“Because I can,” I replied simply.

He sighed, running a hand through his graying hair.

“You’re so much like your mother. Fierce and untamed,” he said, his voice softening. “And I’m glad you turned out that way.”

The mention of my mother sent a sharp pang through my chest.

“You don’t deserve to talk about her,” I said, my voice cold as I stood up.

My father rose as well, his eyes searching mine.

“Listen, Alaric,” he began, his tone earnest. “I want you to step up and continue my legacy. I’ll clean up your name.”

I turned to face him fully, my gaze piercing. “Just what game are you playing now?”

“There’s no game,” he insisted. “You’re my son.”

“Don’t play that card with me,” I shot back, my voice sharp. “I’m not Kael.”

My father hesitated, his expression faltering for a moment. “Please, Alaric. You’ll have some support. I’m sure Lilac will help you too, and if she does, the Blackwoods will be behind us as well.”

I froze, his words sinking in. So that’s what this was about. The Blackwoods commanded the loyalty of most of the armies in the country. Their support would be invaluable in the race for the throne.

“Lilac and you would be a perfect couple,” my father added, his tone almost hopeful.

I clenched my fists, my jaw tightening. “You’ve misunderstood me, Father. I’m not interested in her.”

“What?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “But at the event— ”

“I wanted to repair my image,” I interrupted, my voice firm. “And she needed support for Alexander. That’s all.”

My father stared at me, his expression unreadable. Before he could respond, the television caught our attention. The screen shifted to a live broadcast of Benson Blackwood, his face stern as he addressed a reporter.

“...and the traces lead back to the Blood Moon Pack,” Benson said, his voice steady but his eyes betraying a flicker of unease.

My heart sank. Why? I had spoken to him just yesterday. Did something happen? Was Lilac safe?

“Looks like you’re in real trouble this time,” my father said, his voice low.

I didn’t respond, my mind racing. My father’s eyes were fixed on the screen, his expression thoughtful. If Benson had been forced to lie, it could only mean one thing. Cassandra was behind this.

“I’ll help you clean up your name,” my father said suddenly, breaking the silence. “The council will summon you soon.”

“No need,” I replied, my voice cold. “I can handle it on my own. And just so we’re clear, I’ll never run in your race to become the Alpha King.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned and left the room, my footsteps echoing through the empty halls of the palace. The drive to my pack was a blur, my mind consumed by thoughts of Lilac, the Blackwoods, and the web of lies tightening around me.

By the time I arrived at the Blood Moon Pack compound, the sun had set, casting long shadows over the grounds. I called for an immediate meeting, my voice sharp and commanding. My most trusted associates filed into the war room, their faces etched with concern.

Marcus, my second-in-command, was the first to speak.

“What’s going on, Alaric?” he asked, his voice low.

“We’ve been framed,” I said, my tone clipped. “The council will summon us soon. We need to come up with a plan.”