Marked by the Lycan King

12

“What do you mean you’re withdrawing?” Alpha Ryan’s voice rose sharply as he shot up from his chair, the phone clenched so tightly in his hand that his knuckles turned white. “We’ve already channeled a significant amount of resources into this project. You can’t just back out halfway and expect us to cover everything.”

On the other end, Carl let out a soft, almost amused chuckle, completely unbothered by the Alpha’s fury. “Your understanding seems… selective, Alpha Ryan. The Lycan Kingdom never signed any binding contract with you.”

Ryan’s jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple.

“It has always been a yearly donation,” Carl continued smoothly, as if explaining something to a child. “How that turned into a ‘binding agreement’ on your end is quite… interesting.”

Ryan’s expression darkened like a gathering storm.

“Furthermore,” Carl added, his tone sharpening with precision, “our investigations suggest that you’ve been making subtle moves to transfer portions of the pack’s border lands into your personal name.”

“So tell me,” Carl went on calmly, “who exactly is breaching trust here?”

Ryan said nothing, but his grip on the phone tightened until the device creaked in protest.

“The Crimson Moon Pack is one of the richest and most formidable packs in the werewolf world,” Carl continued. “Covering this amount should not be a problem for you. His Majesty has simply decided to redirect support to smaller packs that actually require assistance and demonstrate loyalty.”

Ryan’s voice dropped to a dangerous, icy whisper. “You’re treating us like this… after everything we’ve contributed?”

“Is that a complaint,” Carl asked lightly, “or a threat?”

“We’re talking about professionalism—”

“No,” Carl cut in smoothly, all pretense of politeness gone. “We’re not. I called to inform you, not to debate with you. And unless you believe your pack is capable of challenging the Lycan Kingdom,” he added, his tone turning dangerously calm, “I suggest you accept the decision with grace.”

The line went dead.

Ryan lowered the phone slowly, his face a mask of controlled rage. He understood exactly what this meant. The Lycan King was displeased with him. This was the beginning of a boycott — and other packs would soon follow suit like wolves sensing weakness. But what had he done to anger the Lycan King so personally? Surely something as minor as a few land reallocations wouldn’t provoke such a reaction.

He pushed the unsettling thought aside for now and strode toward the dining hall, his footsteps heavy with frustration.

Breakfast had already been served in the grand dining room. The aroma of fresh coffee, eggs, and baked bread filled the air, but Ryan had no appetite.

Lyka sat elegantly beside Luna Daria, both women already eating and engaged in light conversation. They looked every bit the picture of a perfect, united family.

Ryan took his seat at the head of the table but didn’t touch his food. His gaze swept over the room.

“Where is the head guard?” he asked curtly.

As if summoned, the man stepped forward and bowed deeply. “Alpha.”

Ryan’s gaze hardened. “Report.”

The guard hesitated, swallowing nervously before lowering his head further. “We found pieces of clothing near the border cliffs… they match what Lady Myra was wearing during the ceremony. It appears they were torn during a rapid transformation.”

Ryan’s hand stilled on the table. He set his cutlery down with deliberate calm.

“So,” he said quietly, his voice far more dangerous than if he had shouted, “you’re telling me… my daughter is still missing.”

The guard stiffened. “We… we are doing everything we can, Alpha. Search parties have been dispatched, but the cliffs—”

Before Ryan could respond, Lyka let out a small, dismissive scoff.

“There’s no need to stress over that little b***h,” she said lightly, spearing a piece of fruit with her fork. “If she doesn’t want to be found, then maybe we should just let her go. Searching for her is a waste of time and resources—”

“Enough!”

Alpha Ryan’s voice cracked through the room like thunder.

Lyka froze mid-sentence, her smile faltering.

“She is your sister,” Ryan said firmly, his eyes cold and unyielding. “No matter what she has done, she is still family. You will not speak about her that way in my presence again.”

Lyka’s expression tightened with barely concealed resentment, but she forced herself to remain silent, lowering her gaze in mock submission.

“Dear, you should calm down,” Luna Daria murmured, placing a hand on Ryan’s arm. He let out a heavy cough as he leaned back, tension still radiating from every line of his body.

After a long moment, he spoke again, his tone more controlled but no less commanding. “Lyka,” he said, looking directly at her. “You and Aiden will go to the Lycan Kingdom.”

Lyka blinked in surprise. “What for?”

“You will request a formal meeting with His Majesty,” Ryan continued. “We need to re-establish cooperation with the Lycan Kingdom. Offer whatever apologies or concessions are necessary. Do not return empty-handed.”

Lyka exchanged a quick glance with Daria, her mind already spinning with possibilities. A trip to the Lycan Kingdom meant a chance to get closer to real power, perhaps even catch the eye of the mateless King himself.

Ryan stared into the distance, his thoughts dark. Whoever had turned the Lycan King against them would pay. And if Myra’s disappearance was somehow connected… he would deal with that too.