h4Chapter 80: Chapter 80: A FATHER’S RAGE/h4

    strongIVAN’S POV/strong

    Blood oozed where my ws broke skin, rivulets running down the maid’s throat as she wed uselessly at my grip.

    The harder she fought, the deeper I dug in. Her veins bulged purple, her face mottling as she sputtered for breath.

    The maid kicked weakly, choking.

    "P-please—Your Highness—I didn’t mean any of it—"

    "Didn’t mean it?" My voice was a snarl, vibrating through the room with a low, lethal timbre. I pulled her back and mmed her harder against the wall, my ws sinking deeper. "You spat filth at my son. You called him a mistake. A bastard. Useless. Stupid. A pest. You also dared to sully his mother’s name in my house. My mate’s name. Branded her a whore and a dick-hungry bitch in heat, was it?" I leaned in, my teeth bared. "Now tell me again how you didn’t mean it."

    Her face twisted with panic. "I-I was only—repeating! Rumors—just rumors the others whisper, Your Highness!"

    I eased just enough pressure for her to gasp out words. "What rumors?"

    "They... they say the moon healer is a—whore," she stammered, shaking. "That the boy—your heir—may not be yours. That she tried to get rid of him years ago, and has now brought another’s son to be imed by you. They said she’s been whoring herself out to Alphas in taverns all the while she was gone, and that is how she ever made it into reputable packs as their supposed healer—because she was fucking their Alphas all through her stay. J-just like she is doing right now." Her tears spilled, desperation choking her voice. "I swear I didn’t start it! I-I don’t even believe them! I lo-love Lady Maeve. I-I made a mistake, Your Highness. I should’ve kept my mouth shut! Please—mercy. P-Please, forgive me—"

    "Forgive you?" A humorless, ruthless smile split across my lips as I squeezed again, relishing the way her eyes bulged. "Ah, but darling, you said it yourself—mistakes can only be corrected by being erased from existence. There is no forgiveness for those who hurt my family. That boy, the one you so generously spewed poison on, is the very bone of my bones, and the blood that flows through his veins is the same as the gold in mine. You spat on the throne of Ash Creek, right in my very face, the second you crossed that line. And as for his mother..." I chuckled darkly. "Who happens to be the envy of every schr and whimpering healer across the kingdom—you dare brand her with the filth of your gutter tongue? Maeve does not spread her legs for favor, little maid—she spread her life thin to save this pack while worms like you were too busy gossiping. And if she ever took another man into her bed, it would still be worth ten of you. She is the mother of my heir. My fated. My damnation. And by the goddess, rubbish like you will rue the day you ever let her name touch your tongue."

    I lifted her higher until her feet dangled, toes scraping helplessly against the floor. Her nails raked at my wrist, but she was already fading, her body trembling fromck of air.

    "You wanted to make a child cry, hmm? Well, congrattions—you seeded. Now it’s your turn." I smiled. "Guards!"

    They marched into the room in numbers, obeying the call of their Alpha. She wheezed, tried to form more pleas, but only broken gasps came out.

    "Save your breath," I snapped, my scowl darkening. "Drag this filthy thing to the throne hall and announce an immediate gathering of every royal worker and resident of this mansion."

    Then I let her go.

    Her body pooled to the floor like a sack of rotting meat, coughing violently as she clutched her bleeding throat.

    But the guards barely gave her the time to catch her breath before pulling her by the arms and dragging her sobbing, pleading self away.

    It was truly nauseating to witness. I rolled my eyes, a sour taste on my tongue.

    I cleaned off my bloody hand with the handkerchief in my pocket and picked up Asha’s gift from the ground where it had been tossed in my rage.

    With her out of sight, a heaviness imed the space where fury had burned, and emptiness seeped into the room the second the guards shut the door behind them.

    My chest twisted—pain, ugly and strange, an attack on my senses. I turned toward the silence, which in its stillness amplified the soft sound of a hushed sniffle.

    My heart broke, and I rushed to Maeve’s room—which was empty. Empty, at least, as much as a little boy might will it to be. The sniffle quieted at my presence.

    I could already sense him, his small presence tucked away in the corner of the chamber. I knew where he was without looking.

    The faintest shiver of his scent, tainted by deep misery, leaked from the closet, its door slightly ajar.

    I caught a glimpse of him hiding, making himself smaller in the dark as he cried and tried to keep himself invisible.

    My chest clenched so tightly I almost couldn’t breathe.

    I stepped further into the room, careful not to let him catch me staring, my voice soft as I called: "Asha?"

    There was no response.

    I tried again, forcing a light lilt into my tone, as though this were a game.

    "Asha, buddy... are you in here?"

    Still nothing. My lips tugged with the ghost of a smile, though my chest ached.

    "What about the Fish King? Is he here?"

    From inside the closet came a muffled sound followed by a broken, heart-wrenching whisper:

    "Go away."

    The words nearly tore me apart, but I braved through it and took a step closer.

    "Are you sure? You’re not even going to see what I got you?"

    There was a pause. I could hear him sniffle. Then, so faint it tugged painfully on my heartstrings, came:

    "W-What is it?"

    I crouched beside the closet door, leaning close enough that he could hear the smile in my voice. "Hmm... why don’t you guess?"

    Another sniffle, then his trembling little voice offered, "A... a puppy?"

    Augh escaped me before I could stop it. "Not a puppy."

    "...A sword?"

    "Not a sword, either." I lowered my voice conspiratorially. "It’s a miniature fishing rod set. Itesplete with its own hook, fish, and even a little fish keychain. I thought maybe the Fish King deserved his own little kingdom."

    There was a rustle inside the closet. For a heartbeat, I thought he might fling open the door in a burst of his usual excitement.

    Instead, his voice came out too quickly, then too quiet:

    "Thank you... Drop it. On the floor. I-I don’t want you to see me."

    Shock shot through me. I pressed my palm t to the wood, voice a soft beckon.

    "Why? Why wouldn’t you want me to see you?"

    Silence stretched again. Then, so small it nearly broke me:

    "Because I look stupid and... and you’ll be mad. I don’t want you to think I’m a scaredy-cat. I don’t want you to... to never take me on the helicopter again."

    His little voice broke off, clouded with the painful gasp of a suppressed sob. My vision blurred. I had to swallow hard to find words.

    "Oh, Asha," I said, still trying toce yfulness through the ache in my chest. "Nothing could ever make me not take you on that helicopter. Not if you wanted to go. The only person who could stop me is your mother. And she—" I chuckled, even as my throat burned, "—she terrifies me."

    A weakugh bubbled from the closet, wet with tears.

    "Mummy is scary when she’s angry. But... good scary." His voice broke again, thinner this time, before he whispered: "The maid was bad scary."

    The tears started again, full and unrestrained, shaking his little body in ways that twisted and tore my heart apart. That was all it took.

    The sounds gutted me—like the continuous ripping of everything that made me strong. A man immune to emotions was undone by this little boy.

    I couldn’t wait any longer. I opened the door slowly, and this time, he didn’t stop me.

    He was curled into the corner, little body trembling, his cheeks streaked with tears. My heart shattered.

    I scooped him into my arms, holding him against my chest, rocking him like I’d been starving to do since the day I learned of him. Goddess.

    "Hey... hey. Don’t cry, little man. The maid was horrible. She was wrong. Every word she said was a lie. Do you hear me? Lies."

    "But..." his breath hitched, tears soaking into my shirt. "Why does it still hurt? The tears... they don’t stop. Even when I want them to."

    The sound of his tiny voice breaking like that was worse than any battle wound I’d ever endured.

    My wolf howled inside me, swearing to rip the maid apart limb by limb.