Dronti’s sharp eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, pointing metaphorically like daggers straight at Joline.
“What do you mean, Joline?” he demanded, his voice dangerously low.
“Are you daring to challenge me?” Joline shrank back slightly under his menacing gaze, her confidence wavering.
“That…
that is not what I meant, Your Highness.
I…” “What?” Dronti cut her off, his deep voice slicing through the tense dining room.
Christine leaned forward in her seat, an eager, calculating glint in her eyes.
“Let her speak, Dronti,” the Dowager insisted smoothly.
“She might know something critical to your safety.” Dronti scoffed, rolling his eyes in blatant annoyance.
Setting her fork down, Joline sat up straight and looked straight across the table, speaking with icy politeness.
“She is here to kill Dodoi.” Breena instantly choked on her food, coughing softly into her napkin.
Surprised and shaken by Joline’s sudden accusation, her mind raced.
She had assumed Joline was about to expose Dronti’s secret—that Breena was actually his personal physician rather than just an animal healer.
To her shock, Joline had stumbled directly upon her true motive.
Eliminating the beast had indeed been her initial mission upon infiltrating the villa besides wanting to make Dronti pay.
However, she could not let them suspect her real intentions.
She had to clear her name immediately.
Dronti blinked, visibly surprised by the claim.
“What are you talking about?
She does not even know the animal.
Why would she want it dead?” Christine nodded in agreement, turning to Joline.
“Yes, Joline.
Kindly elaborate on why you would make such a serious claim.” Joline’s gaze remained locked onto Breena, a smug smirk touching her lips.
“Because I have seen her several times trying to murder the jaguar during hunting expeditions in the Black Forest.” The Black Forest was an expansive, dense woodland stretching along the border between human territory and the werewolves region—a common neutral ground where both species occasionally hunted for sport.
Despite her heart pounding violently against her ribs and hot blood rushing through her veins, Breena maintained an unbothered, stoic facade.
Every word Joline spoke was the absolute truth; Breena had tried to hunt the beast down in that forest multiple times.
But how had Joline seen her?
Was she spying on her, or was it mere coincidence?
Christine observed Breena’s delicate frame before turning back to Joline, her tone skeptical.
“Are you entirely sure it was her, Joline?
Or could you have mistaken her for someone else?
The girl looks far too innocent for such violence.” Dronti folded his arms across his broad chest, his brow furrowed.
“What proof do you actually have?
Merely pointing fingers does not make her guilty.” Inwardly, Dronti suspected Joline simply felt threatened by Breena’s breathtaking appearance and could not endure having a competing beauty under the same roof.
Joline leaned forward, resting her elbows on the wood of the table.
“She was once attacked by the beast during one of those attempts.
I am absolute in my certainty that she bears a scratch on her back inflicted by Dodoi.” Silence fell over the table.
The three of them turned their eyes toward Breena, awaiting her response.
Breena sat so quietly, calmly picking at her meal, that no one would ever suspect she was the subject of such a dangerous accusation.
Slowly, she dabbed her lips with a napkin and raised her clear, composed eyes to meet theirs.
“That was not me,” Breena stated, her voice remarkably steady.
“Lady Joline must have mistaken me for another wolf.” Christine sneered slightly, her sharp nostrils flaring.
“Girl, do you take me for a fool?
I can smell the distinct scent of blood lingering on you.
Were you injured by the beast recently or not?” Breena kept her gaze fixed on the Dowager, keeping her tone soft and respectful.
“I have lingering wounds caused by my own painful shifting process, Luna Mother—not by the King’s pet.
In fact, I had never even seen the jaguar until I arrived at this villa yesterday.” Dronti sat back, torn in his thoughts.
Was Joline telling the truth, or playing a petty game?
When Breena had first encountered Dodoi yesterday, she had reacted with genuine confusion, even mistaking the beast for a common wild cat.
Furthermore, he had personally bandaged the gashes on her back last night, and he had been fairly certain they were wolf claw marks.
Still, perhaps he had not inspected them closely enough.
He resolved to inspect her back again in private and uncover what grudge, if any, his new healer harbored against his pet.
Deciding to suppress the escalating drama for the moment, Dronti spoke up firmly.
“She is telling the truth, Mother.
She has fresh wounds on her back, and they are undeniably from a wolf; I inspected them myself.
As for whether she attempted to kill Dodoi in the past, I will investigate the matter personally and deal with her accordingly.” Breena swallowed hard, knowing her time was running short.
If Dronti investigated further, her revenge plot would crumble before it even began.
Her mind raced as she desperately formulated a believable cover story.
The meal concluded in tense silence.
Christine was the first to rise from the table, announcing calmly that she had an upcoming session with the Women’s Council.
Breena finished her plate shortly after and silently retreated to her assigned room upstairs.
Downstairs, Joline lingered over her tea while Dronti quietly scrolled through his phone.
A few moments later, Neil entered the dining room and took a seat across from Joline.
Dronti glanced up from his device.
“Why are you late?
Where is Franco?” A maid stepped forward to serve Neil as he answered, “He went to the gym, My King.
You know how obsessed he is with his arm workouts and conditioning.” Dronti returned his attention to his phone, but through his peripheral vision, he caught Joline shamelessly ogling Neil.
Neil was undeniably handsome, and Dronti was well aware of Joline’s weakness for attractive men—she harbored a relentless desire to capture the attention of any good-looking man in her sight.
Busy serving his plate, Neil remained completely oblivious to her intense gaze.
Before Joline could utter a word to Neil, Dronti abruptly pushed his chair back and stood up.
He glared down at her with pure disgust.
“Do you want to get fucked by him?
Why not try seducing him, since that is what you do best?” Joline gasped, choking slightly on her tea as a dark flush of embarrassment covered her neck.
“What?
Who are you referring to, Your Highness?” Dronti leaned down until his face was inches from hers, his voice a low, lethal whisper.
“You know exactly who I am talking about.
Just make sure you do not stain my unborn heir with another man’s seed.” Cornered and deeply humiliated, Joline raised her hands defensively.
“You are mistaken, Your Highness!
I have no such intentions!” Dronti offered no reply.
He casually patted Dodoi’s head, and the jaguar rose, following close at his heels as the King headed toward the grand staircase.
Stopping at the base of the stairs, Dronti called back over his shoulder, “Neil.
Do not let our beautiful guest get bored.
Keep her entertained.” Neil blinked in complete shock, quickly dropping his fork.
“Understood, Your Highness.” Once Dronti vanished upstairs, Neil could barely bring himself to look up at the stunning woman sitting across from him.
He had always acknowledged Joline’s extraordinary beauty, but he maintained a strict professional distance out of deep respect for the Dowager’s wish for her to become Queen.
He respected his King’s boundaries above all else, knowing a mere bodyguard was entirely out of her league.
Noticing Neil avoiding her eyes, Joline let a soft, amused smile curve her lips.
She had always enjoyed the quiet, innocent types.
“Are you afraid of me, Neil?” she asked smoothly, resting her chin in her hand.
“You never seem to speak to me.” Neil paused, wiping his hands on a napkin before meeting her gaze politely.
“Not at all, Lady Joline.
I simply do not have anything of importance to discuss with you.” Joline leaned closer, her eyes glittering with playful charm.
“There are endless topics we could discuss, and I happen to be a wonderful conversationalist.
Feel free to speak about anything—I promise I won’t disappoint you.” Neil gave a modest, tight-lipped smile.
“Perhaps you should start, Lady Joline.
I am not particularly good at idle talk, as you have likely noticed.” Joline’s smile widened as she purred softly, “Oh, I have certainly noticed.” Upstairs in her assigned quarters, Breena paced nervously back and forth across the floor.
Anxiety gripped her chest as she tried to devise a plausible explanation for when the King inevitably came to confront her about the jaguar.
Hearing footsteps outside, she quickly composed herself and sank onto the edge of the bed, striving to look relaxed.
A sharp knock echoed at the door.
“Come in,” Breena called out, her voice calm.
The door swung open, but it was not Dronti.
Instead, a striking, unfamiliar man stepped into the room.
He bore a uncanny facial resemblance to the King, though his eyes held an erratic, dangerous glint.
Breena knew Dronti had no brothers, leaving her thoroughly baffled by the intruder’s identity.
The stranger stopped a few paces in front of her, a unsettling smile playing on his lips.
“Greetings, Breena.
I see you have brought your quest for vengeance straight into this house.” Breena’s breath hitched, her pulse spiking in alarm.
How could he know why I am here?
Before she could form a response, the door was slammed open.
Dronti stormed into the room, his presence instantly dominating the space.
He locked eyes with the intruder, his tone sharp as steel.
“Delpon.
Get out of this room immediately.” Delpon chuckled softly, offering no resistance as he backed toward the exit.
He paused at the threshold, casting a lingering glance at Breena.
“She is remarkably beautiful, cousin.” As the door clicked shut behind him, Breena turned to Dronti, her heart still hammering.
“Who was that?” Dronti swept a dismissive hand through the air.
“He is a lunatic.
Do not pay attention to a single word that comes out of his mouth.” Breena frowned inwardly.
A lunatic who knows my deepest secret?
He had not sounded insane in the slightest.
However, she knew better than to express her doubts aloud to the King.
Dronti dragged an armchair closer to the bed and sat down, crossing one leg over the other.
He leaned back, resting his elbows on the armrests, his icy grey eyes pinning her in place.
“So,” Dronti began, his tone dripping with quiet danger.
“It appears I am harboring an enemy under my own roof.
Tell me…
why do you want my pet dead?”