The moment Dronti’s vehicle rolled through the grand gates of the villa, Franco hurried down the front steps to meet it.
The Head Gamma reached the driver’s side just as Dronti’s door slid open.
Taking one look at Franco’s grim, tight-lipped expression, the King pinched the bridge of his nose, his brows knitting together.
“What is with that face, Franco?” Franco leaned in close, dropping his voice to a low, cautious whisper.
“I strongly suggest you use the side entrance, My King.” Dronti raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-stride.
“And why would I do that?” “The Dowager Luna is inside,” Franco murmured, darting a nervous glance toward the front doors.
“She brought Lady Joline with her, and they have been waiting for hours.” Dronti’s face instantly darkened, his jaw clenching with immediate annoyance.
Of course.
His mother simply refused to give up.
Luna Dowager Christine was utterly convinced that Joline Drakemore—the prized heiress of the powerful Drakemore Pack—was the ideal candidate to become the next Queen.
She was aristocratic, remarkably beautiful, highly influential, and possessed the refined pedigree Christine demanded for her son.
Unfortunately for his mother, Dronti found the woman insufferable.
He had made his complete lack of interest clear dozens of times, but Christine simply ignored his boundaries.
Without a word, Dronti turned back toward the rear seat of the vehicle.
“Tell her I was called away to the hospital on urgent business.
I won’t return until very late.” “Yes, My King, but—” “What urgent business, Dronti?” a sharp voice rang out from the veranda.
Dronti went rigid.
Closing his eyes briefly, he turned around with practiced calm.
Christine stood under the arched doorway, looking resplendent in an elegant, cream-colored silk gown.
Her silver-streaked hair was styled impeccably, and her icy blue eyes burned with exasperation; she had clearly overheard every word.
Dronti exhaled a heavy, quiet sigh.
“I have a hospital to govern, Mother.
We will discuss this another time.” Christine folded her arms over her chest, taking a measured step forward.
“If you spend all your time running that hospital and dodging every decent female I introduce to you, who exactly is going to inherit it when you are gone?
I truly do not understand why you—” Her scolding cut off abruptly.
Her gaze drifted past her son, locking onto the unfamiliar figure stepping out from the far side of the vehicle.
Breena stepped down, entering the scene last as she adjusted her shirt after the long ride.
Christine’s eyebrows snapped together, her expression shifting instantly into one of deep suspicion.
“Dronti…” Her tone dropped sharply.
“Why is there a wolf girl on my estate?” Dronti leaned back against the car door, his tone completely flat.
“She is Dodoi’s personal healer.” Christine’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Your jaguar’s healer?” “You know how frequently that beast gets into territorial fights.” Dronti replied smoothly.
Breena was quietly surprised by the exchange.
So even Dronti’s mother didn’t know her own son had an ejaculation problem?
How interesting.
Breena realized she held so many powerful cards in her hands—secrets that could make this tyrant submit to her.
As the automatic door of the car began sliding shut, Christine reached out, her gloved hand catching the edge to block it.
“Forget about the animal for a moment and step inside.
Joline has been waiting patiently for hours.” Dronti didn’t budge.
“No.” “Dronti!” Ignoring his mother, Dronti tapped his knuckles against the driver’s headrest.
“Neil, start the engine.” Neil froze at the wheel.
His eyes darted frantically from the Dowager Luna glaring at him through the windshield to his sovereign in the rearview mirror.
He was trapped between the two most terrifying authorities in the pack.
“Don’t you dare put this vehicle in drive, Neil,” Christine warned, her voice dripping with command.
Dronti’s grey eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
“I pay your salary, Neil.
Move the car unless you fancy a massive dock in pay.” Neil swallowed hard, his throat clicking loudly.
“My King…” He looked at Dronti through the mirror with a pleading expression.
“It is only a brief conversation, sir.
She isn’t asking you to sign a marriage contract on the spot.
You could at least step inside and extend a basic greeting…” Dronti slowly lifted his gaze to meet his Beta’s eyes in the mirror, his voice dropping an octave.
“I will handle your insubordination later.” Neil instantly shut his mouth, regretting his life choices.
Exhaling a long, irritated breath, Dronti pushed the door open and stepped out onto the driveway.
“Fine.” Christine offered him a triumphant smile.
Dronti brushed past her without another word, crossing the threshold into the main foyer.
Neil and Franco followed right behind him.
Breena entered the villa last, stepping quietly into the magnificent hallway behind the men.
The moment she crossed into the living room area, her eyes immediately landed on the guest seated gracefully on the velvet sofa.
Breena caught her breath slightly.
Joline was breathtakingly beautiful.
She possessed long, silky black hair that cascaded over her shoulders, framing a striking oval face with luminous skin.
Her wide, almond-shaped eyes were fringed by dark lashes, and her full, rosy lips were set in a soft smile.
Her figure was equally refined—slender, poised, and impeccably dressed.
She looks like a goddess, Breena thought to herself in genuine awe.
On paper, this high-born heiress and the aloof Lycan King looked like a match made in heaven.
She couldn’t help but wonder why Dronti was so determined to avoid such a stunning woman.
As Christine and Dronti resumed their muted argument near the living room entrance, Breena noticed a clean glass jug filled with chilled water sitting on the kitchen island nearby.
Her throat was parched from the long, tense journey.
Unbothered by the royal drama unfolding across the room, Breena quietly walked over to the kitchen island.
She grabbed a clean glass from the rack, poured herself a full serving, and drank the cool liquid down in several greedy gulps.
Feeling instant relief as it quenched her thirst, she set the empty glass back on the counter and quietly made her way up the grand staircase toward her quarters before anyone paid her any mind.
Downstairs, Joline rose gracefully as Dronti finally approached the sitting area, smoothing down her designer dress.
“Greetings, Your Highness,” she purred, offering a radiant smile.
Dronti didn’t return the smile.
Walking past her as if she were invisible, he threw himself onto the opposite sofa, crossing one leg over his knee and leaning back into the cushions.
His face was a mask of supreme boredom.
Joline’s dazzling smile stiffened slightly.
She slowly sat back down, her manicured fingers digging tightly into the fabric of her skirt.
Dronti stared at her coldly.
“What are you doing here, Joline?” She swallowed her rising indignation, adjusting her posture.
“My father sent me to extend our pack’s regards to you.” “I see.” A suffocating silence settled over the room.
Joline waited for him to follow up, but Dronti simply stared off into space, offering nothing.
Desperate to break the awkward tension, she tried again.
“I was hoping…
perhaps we could spend some quality time together this evening?” “No.” Joline’s jaw twitched.
Christine snapped, stepping between them with a look of utter exasperation.
“Dronti!
You could at least exercise a shred of manners!” He cast a lazy glance at his mother.
“I am being polite.
I answered her question.” Joline let out a dry, bitter breath.
If this cold dismissal was his idea of politeness, she dreaded to think what his outright malice felt like.
Shaking her head, Christine turned toward the open kitchen.
“Enough of this.
I will pour us all a refreshing drink.” She walked over to the island and picked up the same glass jug Breena had used moments prior.
Unaware that the shiftless healer had already poured herself a drink from it, Christine retrieved a fresh glass, poured a serving, and carried it back to the sitting area, placing it directly in front of her son.
“Drink,” Christine instructed sternly.
Dronti picked up the glass without suspicion, taking several deep gulps just to end his mother’s nagging.
Christine then poured a second glass and handed it to Joline.
“Here, my dear.
Cool off.” Joline accepted the glass reluctantly, holding it in her lap.
She was burning with embarrassment, having sat there for hours only to be treated like an unwelcome intruder.
Looking down at the glass, she felt a sudden nervous flutter in her stomach, realizing she urgently needed to use the restroom.
“Thank you, Luna Mother, but I will drink it in a moment.” She began to stand, but Christine frowned, pressing a hand against her shoulder.
“Sit, drink first.
It is rude to leave it.” Joline’s composure cracked, a flash of genuine annoyance leaking into her voice.
“I really need to use the washroom first!” Christine blinked, startled by the outburst.
Realizing her slip in etiquette, Joline quickly smoothed her expression, forcing a contrite smile.
“Forgive me, Luna Mother.
I will return in just a moment.” She placed her untouched glass on the side table and hurried down the hallway toward the guest bathroom.
Christine watched her go, letting out a long, heavy sigh.
“That poor girl has been waiting here all afternoon, Dronti, and you haven’t given her a single decent sentence.” Dronti stood up instantly.
“There is nothing to discuss.” “Dronti, sit back down—” “The guest has abandoned the room,” he cut in smoothly, adjusting his cuffs.
“She went to the bathroom!” Christine exasperatedly threw her hands in the air.
Dronti didn’t bother replying.
Turning on his heel, he headed straight for the grand staircase, leaving his mother standing alone in the living room, fuming with quiet rage.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath.
*** Upstairs in her assigned guest room, Breena closed the door, turning the lock with a soft click.
Finally alone, she let out a long breath and walked over to the vanity mirror.
She reached up, unclasping her heavy earrings and setting them on the table.
For the first few minutes, everything was peaceful.
Then, without warning, a strange, creeping heat began to spread beneath her skin.
Breena paused, her hands freezing over her jewelry box.
She pressed her palm against her forehead, feeling her pulse thudding unnaturally against her fingertips.
“Why am I suddenly flushed?” Thinking the room was simply stuffy, she walked over to the window and pushed it wide open, letting the breeze wash over her.
It did nothing to help.
The heat inside her intensified rapidly.
A deep, feverish flush crept up her neck, painting her cheeks a dark crimson.
Her heart began hammering frantically against her ribs like a trapped bird.
“What is happening to me…?” she gasped, pressing a trembling hand against her chest.
Another violent wave of heat coursed through her blood, leaving her dizzy and breathless.
A dull, throbbing pressure built behind her eyes, accompanied by a sudden, overwhelming sense of restlessness that made her skin ache for relief.
Breena gripped the edge of the vanity, her mind racing in panic.
She mentally reviewed her day—she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, hadn’t handled any toxic herbs, and hadn’t taken any medication.
Then, a sudden realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.
The water.
Her eyes snapped open wide as she stared at her reflection.
She had walked in, noticed the jug on the counter, and poured herself a drink before heading upstairs.
Her face darkened as the horrifying truth settled in.
The water was spiked.
Breena leaned heavily against the dressing table, her knuckles turning white as another intense wave of heat scorched through her veins.
Her healer’s instincts immediately pieced it together—it wasn’t a lethal poison.
It was a potent, unrefined aphrodisiac, intended to break down inhibitions and force a sudden, uncontrollable wave of passion.
Her mind flashed through the possibilities: Christine, Joline, or someone else.
It didn’t matter who had set the trap for whom—the reality was that she had accidentally consumed a powerful potion meant for someone else.
Clenching her teeth against the growing haze in her mind, Breena’s panic rapidly transformed into searing fury.
“Fucking hell!” she hissed through her teeth, her vision blurring as the heat threatened to consume her.