Lucien remained at the training ground where the king had left him with Lord Septimus.
The clash of metal and the distant grunts of warriors filled the air, yet his attention was elsewhere, the air seemed different.
It wasn’t long before a sharp voice echoed in his mind, clear, commanding, and impossible to ignore.
“Meet me in the dungeon.”
Lucien stiffened slightly at the mind link.
For a brief moment, surprise flickered across his face.
Since their return, the king had barely acknowledged the two rogues they had captured, let alone shown any interest in interrogating them.
And now, out of nowhere, he was summoning him to the dungeon.
It didn’t sit right.
“The air seems different… I wonder who made the king angry,” Septimus remarked casually, dropping one of the weapons he had been examining with a faint clang.
Lucien’s brows furrowed.
The air…
That was it.
He stilled, his sharp gaze sweeping across the training ground.
Only then did he truly notice it, the tension.
The subtle unease.
Some of the lower-ranking lycans had their brows creased, their movements stiff, as though something unseen pressed down on them.
The atmosphere felt heavy, suffocating even.
The king’s aura is leaking into the atmosphere, no wonder the air seemed different to him, though it wasn’t affecting him because he was a higher lycan and the king is just letting out little of his aura, you cannot say the same for the others.
Lucien turned to Septimus, his expression composed but urgent.
“Lord Septimus, you are welcome to stay for dinner.
The king extends his invitation.
I’m afraid I can no longer entertain you.
I will have the gamma show you around the weaponry, feel free to choose any weapon that pleases you.
But I must take my leave now.”
“It’s fine, Lord Lucien,” Septimus replied with an easy smile.
“I will manage on my own.”
With a brief nod, Lucien turned and strode away, his long legs eating up the distance as he made his way toward the dungeon.
His expression hardened, his eyes sharp and calculating as he turned a corner and collided with someone.
“Oww!” Sophia cried out, stumbling back as pain shot through her shoulder.
Irritation flared instantly, but the words died on her lips the moment she recognized him.
Lord Lucien.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were blind,” Lucien said coldly, his gaze narrowing.
“But I do know better.
You have two functioning eyes, you simply don’t seem to use them well.”
Sophia straightened, wincing slightly but refusing to back down.
“My lord, it is you who doesn’t know how to navigate properly, always stopping or entering a walkway abruptly.
So if my eyes aren’t working well, then your sense of direction….”
“Do not finish that sentence.”
His voice dropped dangerously low, sending a chill down her spine.
It was a warning, one that most would have heeded immediately.
But Sophia was not most.
Fear flickered in her chest, but stubbornness burned brighter.
“What are you going to do if I say it?” she shot back, lifting her chin.
Lucien raised a brow, mildly surprised by her audacity.
A group of maids passed by at that moment, greeting him with hurried bows before stealing curious glances at the tense exchange.
“Do you want to test that and find out… Blondie?” he said, his tone edged with quiet menace as his eyes settled on her.
“Don’t call me that,” Sophia snapped.
Lucien exhaled through his nose, clearly losing interest.
He turned to continue on his way, dismissing her, but then she chuckled.
A low, almost mocking sound.
“I meant it when I said your sense of direction is poor.”
Lucien stopped.
Slowly, he turned back.
In all his life, no one had dared speak to him this way, no one had pushed him, challenged him, or insulted him so boldly.
The last time he let her go, he had considered her defiance… refreshing.
Now?
Now it grated on him.
Her rudeness stirred something sharp and unpleasant within him.
An urge, one he did not bother to suppress.
He wanted to break that defiance, to clip those wings she seemed so proud of.
Perhaps that was why he had allowed her to continue speaking.
A trap.
And she had walked straight into it.
“I warned you,” Lucien said softly as he stepped closer.
Sophia instinctively stepped back.
“Now, I will show you what happens when you run your mouth so freely.” His lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile.
“I wonder what will happen to you now that there is no Arabella to beg or plead on your behalf.”
Sophia’s breath hitched.
“I suppose the reason you were imprisoned before was the same, your mouth,” he continued, his voice calm but cutting.
“But I am not like those who simply lock you away.
No… your punishment will be far more… instructive.”
He closed the distance between them slowly, forcing her to retreat step by step.
“Perhaps next time, you will learn your place.”
His gaze swept over her once before he turned sharply and continued on his path, as though she were no longer worth his time.
Sophia stood frozen, her heart pounding, fear and regret crashing over her all at once.
“You just had to say it, didn’t you, Sophia?” she muttered under her breath, dragging a hand through her hair.
“You could have kept quiet… but no.”
Groaning softly, she made her way toward the dining hall, where she had been assigned duties for the afternoon.
Behind her, Lucien’s mind had already reached out to the head maid through a link, issuing precise instructions regarding Sophia, and the punishment that awaited her.
Sophia hurried into the dining hall, trying to push the encounter from her mind.
The vast space buzzed with activity as maids moved about, cleaning, arranging, preparing for dinner.
Grabbing a bucket of water and a rag, she joined them, scrubbing at the polished floor.
“Did you hear, Linda?
Mira and her friends were killed because the new breeder asked the king to,” one maid whispered.
Sophia stilled.
“Yes, I heard,” another replied.
“The story going around is that she’s a rogue the king picked up on his way here.
Because Mira and her friends didn’t serve her well, she reported them, and the king wanted to punish them this morning.
But she refused, insisting he kill them instead.”
“That’s too much for a she-wolf,” someone else scoffed.
“I was there this morning,” another chimed in.
“I was assigned to clean the training ground.
I heard her tell the king to kill them.”
Sophia’s grip tightened on the rag, anger bubbling inside her.
She knew they were lying.
Arabella would never do something like that.
“And to think she’s just a mere she-wolf, acting all high and mighty,” one said with disdain.
“She’s only been here for a day and a half, and she’s already ordering executions.”
“Wolves will always be lower beasts compared to us lycans,” another added mockingly.
“If she thinks she can become our Luna by seducing the king, she’s delusional.”
“She will never be our Luna,” another voice declared confidently.
“Lady Aurora is the king’s favorite, noble birth, B-class fertility rate.
It’s only a matter of time before she bears a pup.
Then she’ll be Luna.”
Sophia had heard enough.
She shot to her feet.
“What if she is a wolf?” she snapped, her voice cutting through the chatter.
“Does that make her any less strong?
And who said she even wants to be Luna?”
The hall fell silent.
All eyes turned to her.
The maids who had been speaking stood up, their expressions hardening.
“Of course you’d defend her,” one sneered.
“You’re no different.
Wolves are known for two things, being weak and whoring around.”
Laughter erupted.
Sophia’s fists clenched.
“She may be a wolf, but she’s stronger than all of you put together,” she shot back.
“And don’t you dare call her a whore.
If you do, then what does that make the king?”
Silence slammed down.
“Alphas are territorial,” Sophia continued, her voice steady despite the fire in her chest.
“I wonder what the king will do when he hears you call the woman he chose a whore.”
A visible shiver ran through them.
They knew.
Without another word, the maids turned away, returning to their tasks as though nothing had happened.
The conversation shifted abruptly, to Lady Aurora.
Sophia exhaled sharply, forcing herself to calm down.
She didn’t fully understand the palace dynamics yet, but she would.
Later, she would ask Lily.
“I don’t think you should let what they say get to you.”
Sophia blinked, turning toward the voice.
A young woman, perhaps in her early twenties, stood beside her, smiling gently.
“What did you say?” Sophia asked, having missed the first part.
“Hi, I’m Vie,” she said warmly.
“Sophia.”
“I said you shouldn’t let them get to you,” Vie repeated.
“They’re from the south, same as Lady Aurora.
Of course they support her.”
Sophia frowned slightly, confusion evident.
Vie chuckled softly.
“You look lost.”
“I am,” Sophia admitted.
“Don’t worry,” Vie said reassuringly.
“I’ll explain everything once we’re done here.
Let’s finish up first.”
Sophia nodded, grateful, and returned to her cleaning with renewed focus.
“Why are you late?”
Lucien arrived at the dungeon entrance to find the king already waiting.
Enzo stood still, his presence alone enough to weigh heavily on the air.
Lucien inclined his head slightly.
“A minor delay on the way here.”
The king studied him for a moment, one brow lifting subtly, but said nothing.
“Shall we?” Lucien asked.
Enzo gave a single nod.
And together, they stepped into the darkness of the dungeon.