Misguided Wolves

35. Crown of Ambition

*This chapter contains sensitive subjects such as s****l assault that may be triggering.*

***

Castiel’s schemes wove together flawlessly. He’d shattered Kate and Elliott’s bond, sowed chaos in Elliott’s family, and erased Fror from the map. Deborah’s arrival even strained Sol and Mahni’s bond, her charm ensnaring men while marking Mahni for elimination. Castiel smirked, sensing Mahni’s end nearing. Soon, he’d outshine his father, Charles, and his useless brother, James—lazy, lust-driven, handed the throne for being eldest. Castiel’s jaw clenched, but he steadied, ambition ablaze.

After weeks in Vargr, Castiel returned to Vintr, stunned when Charles greeted him warmly—a rare gesture. James scowled behind their father, their mother beaming with pride. Promising omens.

“My boy!” Charles roared. “Great to see you!”

“Father, an honor,” Castiel said, masking surprise.

Charles gripped his shoulders, kissing his cheeks. “Much to discuss—no time to waste! To my office.”

They trailed Charles to the purple hall, entering his opulent office—no books, just white walls, black onyx floors, and purple tapestries flaunting trophies. A polar bear pelt, the last king of an ancient clan felled before Vintr’s rise, lay underfoot—a forgotten triumph Charles cherished. Extinct dark wood furniture with purple cushions and golden thread screamed extravagance. They sat, awaiting his words.

“You and Deborah impressed me, Castiel,” Charles said. “I thought you’d fail. Deborah’s securing Vargr, James will take my throne, and Fror needs a leader. Take a third of Vintr’s people and rule it.”

Castiel’s breath hitched. He’d aimed for crowned prince, not this. “Does that mean…”

“Yes!” Charles proclaimed. “I, King Charles of Vintr, grant you, Prince Castiel, power over Fror. Henceforth, you are King Castiel!”

James rolled his eyes, seething, as their mother presented a wooden box, her ambition to elevate her children over James—born to the late queen—realized. Castiel knelt, bowing. “I’m honored, Father. I won’t fail.”

Charles crowned him with a jewel-encrusted golden crown. “Stand tall, king. Soldiers and commoners are ready. Go—much to do.”

James and Castiel exited, James shoving Castiel’s shoulder, growling, “Don’t get cocky. You’re second choice, like your mother.”

Castiel slammed James against the wall, claws at his throat. “Hold your tongue, or I’ll rip it out!”

James smirked, face reddening. “At least I’m not a freak like you.”

Castiel squeezed until James gasped, then released him, stalking to the green wing. Guards and servants packed, Cassie rushing to him, beaming. “My love! King and queen! I’ll plan a grander wedding!”

Castiel nipped her ear, hands on her hips. “Let’s celebrate.”

She giggled, pushing back. “Not until our wedding night.”

Scowling, he let her go. “Pack your things.”

Cassie hesitated, dragging her feet. Castiel ordered a guard, “Summon Isabeth to my chambers.”

In his chambers, Castiel slumped, James’s taunts echoing. His hybrid nature—wolf-serpent, inherited from his mother—drew lifelong scorn. Charles valued their abilities but loathed their appearance, a secret since their rare birth shocked Vintr. Isabeth entered, cheeks flushed, biting her lip, her scent of jasmine sharp in the dim candlelight.

“You wanted me, Your Grace?” Her voice trembled, eyes darting to his crown.

“What do you think of my… condition?” Castiel asked, voice low, eyes narrowing.

She froze, caught off guard. “It’s unique. You’re one of a kind.”

“Unique?” He surged forward, seizing her neck, claws grazing her skin. “Not a freak? An abomination?”

She shook, pulse racing under his grip. “No! I love His Majesty!”

With a dark chuckle, he hurled her onto the oak table, its edge biting her hips. She gasped, scrambling for balance, but Castiel fisted her hair, yanking her head back, pinning her chest to the wood. Her dress tore as he hiked it, the fabric rasping against her thighs. “You’re my glorified w***e,” he snarled, breath hot against her ear, his musk of cedar and iron thick.

“I’d never judge you!” she choked, tears welling, her nails scraping the table. “It’s an honor to serve!”

He freed himself, his arousal evident, and rammed into her, the table creaking under his force. Her cry mingled pain and submission, her body tensing with each thrust. “Who’s my b***h?” he growled, claws digging into her hips, leaving crescent marks.

“I am!” she screamed, voice breaking, quiet sobs escaping as her tears stained the wood.

Castiel reveled in her surrender, his aggression purging James’s words. Isabeth, his most loyal, took his cruelty, redirecting it onto the harem, keeping them subdued. His hand cracked against her ass, the red handprint blooming instantly, a mark of his dominance. Her whimpers fueled him, her jasmine scent mixing with sweat and fear. He drove deeper, grunting, the table shuddering, his hybrid strength unrestrained. Her sobs softened, her body yielding, adapting to his rhythm, a twisted devotion in her compliance.

He leaned over, canines grazing her neck, teasing a mark he’d never give. “No right to judge your king,” he hissed, thrusting harder, chasing release. Her breaths hitched, a mix of pain and desperate loyalty, her fingers clawing the table’s edge. He climaxed with a primal roar, spilling into her, collapsing atop her, his weight pinning her trembling form. Her ragged breaths matched his, the room heavy with their mingled scents.

Catching his breath, he kissed her shoulder, voice softening. “Sorry for the roughness. James got under my skin, and Cassie keeps refusing me. You know how I get.”

Isabeth recovered swiftly, smoothing her torn dress, crouching to clean him with a slow, deliberate lick, her eyes gleaming through thick lashes. “No apology needed, Your Majesty,” she purred, voice steady despite her flushed cheeks. “I’m glad to help. Cassie’s refusal is shameful.”

She straddled him, cupping his cheek, her touch bold. “I’m always here, my love.” Her lips brushed his ear, her breath warm, stirring his blood anew.

Castiel lifted her chin, smirking. “You’re my favorite, Isabeth. You understand me.”

Pouring water, he asked, “How’s Kate adjusting?”

“The girls are divided, but I’ve made Kate more open-minded,” Isabeth said, adjusting her hair, confidence returning. “Not fully devoted, but enough for your plan.”

“Good. Tell the girls to pack—we’re moving to Fror.”

Isabeth scurried off, colliding with Cassie at the door. Their tense exchange reached Castiel, who admired Isabeth’s defiance. Cassie entered, hurt in her eyes. “What was she doing here?”

“I needed a release,” Castiel said coolly. “Since you refuse, I found a willing participant.”

“Why keep the girls?” Cassie pleaded. “You promised to free them when we marry, yet you add more. Am I not enough?”

Castiel growled, “I’m king! My word is law!”

Her eyes teared. “I just want clarity…”

He softened, smiling. “I’m sorry, beautiful. I’ll keep my promises, but I need the girls for the plan. You’re my queen, my mate. I imagine you when I’m with them. Soon, you’ll wear my mark…” He grazed her neck, then pressed her belly. “…and carry my heir.”

Blushing, Cassie giggled, relaxing as she left. A trusted guard entered, chuckling. “You smoothed that over, bedding others openly.”

“It’s easy,” Castiel said, bored. “A smile, sweet lies—they’re putty. Stubborn ones need… persuasion.” He flashed his claws, grinning darkly.

The guard laughed. “Teach me. Commoners and servants are en route to Fror. You’ll follow in days.”

“Perfect. Keep me updated.”

Alone, Castiel studied his marble chessboard, jade pawns gleaming. Moving pieces, he murmured, “The game’s getting interesting.”