Chapter 8 The King’s Apology
|| Lilac’s POV ||
The drive home was a blur of streetlights and racing thoughts. My knuckles ached from how tightly I’d been gripping the steering wheel, the leather creaking under my desperate hold. The damage was done. Kael’s public meltdown, the wolfsbane scandal, the press swarming like vultures— it was all out there now, immortalized in headlines and gossip columns.
And then there was me.
His future Luna. The woman he’d humiliated in front of the entire kingdom.
A bitter laugh nearly escaped me. How quickly the mighty fall.
But beneath the anger, beneath the sting of betrayal, something else pulsed through me–relief.
Because now, finally, I had my opening.
While Kael scrambled to salvage his reputation, I could disappear. No more expectations. No more pretending. Just… freedom.
The familiar sight of our home should have comforted me. Instead, it felt like a gilded cage I was about to break free from.
I barely managed to shut off the engine before the front door flew open.
Mom rushed out, her face pale, her hands already reaching for me before I could even step out of the car.
“Oh, sweetpea,” she whispered, pulling me into a crushing hug. Her scent–vanilla and the faintest hint of lavender–usually soothed me. But tonight, I could feel the tension in her arms, the way her fingers trembled against my back.
She’d seen the news.
Of course she had.
“I’m fine, Mom,” I’murmured into her shoulder, forcing my voice steady. Lies, lies, lies. But what else could I say? That my fiancé had just publicly shattered any illusion of our perfect union? That I was glad for it?
Behind us, tires screeched against gravel.
Dad.
I didn’t even have to turn to know it was him–his fury rolled off him in waves, thick enough to choke on. When I finally pulled back from Mom’s embrace, I saw him stalking toward us, his jaw clenched so tight I feared his teeth might crack.
1/4
“Get in the car,” he growled.
No greeting. No hesitation. Just three words, sharp as a blade.
“We’re done with this engagement.”
1 blinked.
In all
my
life, I’d never seen my father like this. He was the calm one, the steady one, the man who could negotiate peace between warring packs with nothing but a few well–placed words. But now?
Now, he looked ready to burn the world down for me.
Pride swelled in my chest, fierce and unexpected.
This was what loyalty looked like.
The drive to the palace was silent, the tension in the car so thick I could barely breathe. Dad’s grip on the steering wheel was white–knuckled, his gaze fixed ahead like a predator locked onto its prey. Mom sat beside him, her spine straight, her expression unreadable.
And me?
I stared out the window, watching the trees blur past, my mind racing.
What will they do?
What will I do?
The Reventhorn Castle loomed ahead, its spires cutting into the twilight like jagged teeth. The massive gates–twisted iron and intimidation disguised as elegance–swung open before us. The royal crest gleamed under the torchlight, a silent reminder of the power we were about to challenge.
The guards stiffened as we approached. Their faces were carefully blank, but their fingers twitched toward their weapons.
They weren’t just wary because my father was the Royal Beta.
They were wary because Benson Blackwood wasn’t just a name, he was a legend. A war hero who’d bled for this pack more times than any of them could count. And tonight?
Tonight, he wasn’t here as a loyal subject.
He was here as a father.
The whispers started the moment we stepped inside. Servants ducked their heads, nobles paused mid–conversation, their eyes darting toward us before quickly looking away.
And they were all waiting to see how this would end.
The throne room was exactly as I remembered–cold, imposing, designed to make even the strongest wolf feel small. The ceilings stretched endlessly upward, the walls adorned with tapestries that told the history of our pack in threads of gold and blood.
At the far end, Alpha King Darius and Luna Cassandra sat rigid on their thrones, their expressions unreadable.
But I didn’t kneel.
Not this time.
“Benson.” The king’s voice cut through the silence like a whip. Calm. Controlled. But beneath it, something darker simmered. “What brings you here?”
My father didn’t flinch. “With all due respect, my king,” he said, his voice steel wrapped in velvet, “we would like to call off the engagement of Kael and my daughter.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
I saw it–the way Luna Cassandra’s breath hitched, the way her fingers dug into the arms of her throne. The way the king’s jaw tightened, just slightly, before smoothing back into that infuriating mask of calm.
“Benson,” he began, his tone almost… pleading. “I hear your concerns. But reconsider. Kael is not a man who loses his temper easily. The circumstances-”
“My daughter is young and innocent.” Dad’s voice was quiet, but the threat in it was unmistakable. “She is not cut out for this.”
Luna Cassandra leaned forward, her eyes softening in that way she always did when she wanted something. “Benson, please. Kael was wrong, I don’t deny it. But he’s a good man. A good leader. He’ll make amends.”
Mom stepped forward then, her voice cool, her words deliberate.
“Nevertheless,” she said, “he should not forsake his mate.” A pause. A blade hidden in silk. “Even in agony, a true mate is supposed to protect. To cherish. A mate comes first, always–especially when she is to be Luna.”
The word mate hung in the air like a guillotine.
It took everything in me not to flinch.
Because that was the heart of it, wasn’t it?
Kael had never treated me like a mate.
Just a pawn.
against the marble as he closed the distance between us, stopping just inches away.
And then–for the first time in my life–I saw something in his eyes that wasn’t calculation.
Regret.
“Kael was wrong,” he admitted, his voice softer now, almost… human. “And I will ensure he takes responsibility.”
Then, to my shock, he turned to me.
“I apologize on his behalf, Lilac.” His gaze bore into mine, searching for something. Forgiveness? Submission? “Pardon him, this once. For my sake.”
The words were a slap.
A command disguised as a plea.
Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? A king never apologized–not unless he had no other choice. And Darius Reventhorn needed me. Needed my family’s loyalty. Needed this alliance to hold.
My fingers curled into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms.
Manipulative bastard.
But what choice did I have?
So I smiled. Sweet. Demure. The perfect future Luna.
“Of course, my king,” I murmured, bowing my head just enough to seem obedient. “I understand.”
And inside?
Inside, I was already planning my escape.
