Alpha Widweek carefully avoided the King’s piercing gaze, clearing his throat before replying, “She attempted to set the entire pack house on fire, Your Highness.
We simply couldn’t keep such a dangerous person around.” Breena couldn’t stop a faint, bitter smile from touching her lips.
In truth, she had done exactly that.
Having endured years of cruel mistreatment at their hands, she had tried to burn down her late parents’ home.
What did it matter to them if she destroyed what was rightfully hers by blood?
She saw no crime in trying to reduce her stolen heritage to ashes.
Catching sight of her expression, Hannah pointed an accusing finger, her voice sharp with venom.
“Look at her sinister smile!
She is a devil, your Highness—she wanted to burn us all alive!” Dronti ignored Hannah entirely, his pale grey eyes remaining fixed on the trembling Alpha.
“And what did you do to push her to that point?
A wolf does not simply try to burn down her own home without severe provocation.” Widweek swallowed hard, attempting to regain a shred of dignity.
“Your Highness, forgive me for asking, but…
why do you care so much about a shiftless girl?
Is she truly of such importance to you, or has she fed you lies?” Dronti leaned back against the pillar, his expression entirely unbothered.
“In case you are misinformed, she is now the personal healer to my pet.
Her peace of mind is crucial to her duties—I will not have her poisoning my beast because her thoughts are distracted by past grievances.” A wave of baffled whispers rippled through the gathered pack members.
They were all well aware of the King’s legendary pet jaguar, but the sheer absurdity of hiring a personal healer for a wild beast left them stunned.
Rich royals truly had endless money to waste.
Alpha Widweek braced himself, asking cautiously, “Well…
what does Your Highness suggest we do?
Is she here to beg her way back into the pack?” Dronti caught the laced hostility in Widweek’s tone; the Alpha was vehemently against the idea of Breena returning.
Breena had only mentioned her former pack’s name when Dronti demanded to know why she was ousted, withholding more details.
Yet Dronti wasn’t stupid—he noticed how neatly Widweek evaded answering what had driven her to arson in the first place.
Seeing the blatant disdain dripping from every pack member, Dronti knew how corrupt Widweek could be.
He had zero intention of making things easy for the self-righteous Alpha.
“I want her fully reinstated as a recognized pack member,” Dronti declared, his deep voice resounding off the ceilings.
“She will be granted absolute freedom to come and go as she pleases.” Breena’s breath hitched, a sharp no nearly escaping her throat.
She had no desire to ever step foot in this cursed place again—her current life among humans was far safer.
This territory held nothing but tragic memories of betrayal and near-fatal rogue attacks.
As a shiftless female, she would have died long ago if not for a mysterious wolf who kept intervening from the shadows to save her.
She was done risking her life.
Still, watching the Lycan King terrorize her former abusers brought a sense of satisfaction.
Widweek stood frozen in shock, while Luna Gracio failed to contain her outrage, stepping forward with her hands clasped tightly.
“Your Highness, please forgive my bluntness, but this girl is stubbornly rebellious.
She will bring nothing but chaos to our people.
We simply cannot take her back.” Dronti glanced at the Luna with complete disinterest, then shifted his gaze to Hannah before settling back on the Alpha.
“Is she your designated heir?” “Yes, Your Highness,” Widweek nodded stiffly.
“If you refuse my first demand,” Dronti purred smoothly, “then I have an alternative option for you.” Luna Gracio breathed a sigh of relief, her posture relaxing slightly.
“Please tell us, Your Highness.” “Your heir will report to my estate to serve as a low-ranking house servant,” Dronti stated calmly.
He intended to break Widweek’s arrogant pride by forcing his pampered, spoiled daughter to scrub his floors.
Widweek gasped, his face draining of color.
“Your Grace!
She is my only heir, that would be completely—” Hannah’s eyes widened in horror.
She opened her mouth to shriek in protest, but her mother instantly placed a firm hand over her shoulder, shutting her down.
If they angered the tyrant now, he would cease offering choices and simply destroy them.
Dronti checked his watch, his patience visibly wearing thin.
“Choose, Alpha.
I have important matters to attend to—do not waste my time before I make the decision for you.
Failing to pick an option means I will enforce both.
Now, speak.” Widweek stood trapped, his mind racing wildly.
He knew that if he pushed the King too far, Dronti would obliterate the Groovesway Pack without a second thought.
As much as he despised the ultimatum, he had no way out.
Yet, letting Breena back into the pack was a threat he could never allow—there was too much at stake.
After an agonizing silence, Widweek looked up, his jaw set in bitter resignation.
“How long must my daughter serve at your estate?” “No, Father!” Hannah cried out, tears of humiliation springing to her eyes, but her mother held her back with a firm, warning grip.
The entire hall gasped in utter disbelief.
The Alpha was genuinely willing to surrender his own biological heir as a lowly servant rather than reinstate Breena into the pack?
Dronti’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, finding the reaction deeply intriguing.
Widweek was hiding something monumental, and his extreme reluctance to let Breena return only fueled the King’s curiosity.
There was clearly a hidden secret regarding the shiftless healer that he had yet to uncover.
“She will serve as a maid,” Dronti replied, his face an unreadable mask, “until the day you willingly recognize my pet’s healer as a full member of the Groovesway Pack.” Widweek turned to his daughter, his eyes filled with agonizing regret as he forced out a single word.
“Fine.” Breena felt a wave of dizzying disbelief wash over her.
The arrogant girl she had once been forced to endure was now condemned to scrub the Lycan King’s palace floors.
How would Hannah—a girl who had never worked a day in her life—survive manual labor?
At the same time, Breena felt immensely relieved that she wouldn’t be forced back into this pack.
Hannah choked back her rage, her nails digging so deeply into her palms that she nearly drew blood.
Glaring at Breena with pure malice, she made a silent, bitter promise: This shiftless bitch thinks she holds all the cards.
I will make her pay for this.
Unbothered by the dramatic tension, Dronti turned toward the exit, flicking two fingers to signal Breena and Neil to follow.
“I expect her at my villa at dawn,” Dronti called out over his shoulder as he walked away.
“My floors are filthy.” “You monstrous f—!” Hannah screamed, lunging forward, but Luna Gracio instantly slapped a hand over her daughter’s mouth, pinning her arms.
“Do not court death so early, child!” the Luna hissed into Hannah’s ear.