Chapter 84: Sloppy Move
Then Galen spoke again. "Rowena," he said quietly.
Aveloria’s eyes widened slightly. "Rowena."
Theron looked confused. "What about her?"
"She’s missing," Galen said. "Her body wasn’t among the dead."
Lucien nodded. "She slipped out. I’d stake my life on it."
Aveloria closed her eyes briefly. "I should have seen that coming."
"And she wouldn’t have acted alone," Lucien added. "There’s a high chance some of the elders on the council are involved."
Galen grimaced. "I saw some of them turn tonight. Not many, but enough to know this runs deeper than we thought."
Aveloria sank into the chair behind her desk, finally allowing the exhaustion to show. "I wanted to save my kingdom," she said quietly. "I still do. But right now, I feel helpless."
Theron moved before anyone else could speak. He stepped forward and pulled her into a firm embrace.
"You don’t have to carry this alone. We’re here. All of us." He said.
For a moment, she didn’t move. Then her hands came up, gripping his back as if grounding herself. When he finally pulled away, she took a steadying breath.
"I still want to help," she said. "I want this kingdom to be clean again. Not just for the throne, but for the people."
Lucien nodded. "Then listen carefully."
He stepped away from the window and toward the desk. "I’ve spent years dealing with wanderers. Some call me a hunter. Others call me worse. I don’t care what name they use."
Aveloria straightened slightly. "You said before they serve a Witch."
"They do."
"Eirene has something to do with what happened tonight. I’m sure she had something in mind for such a large number of wanderers present." Aveloria said.
"Maybe the plan was to disrupt the bonding ceremony." Galen blurted.
It clicked. They all turned to look at him, but only Theron looked lost.
"I don’t understand whatever is happening in here," Theron replied.
"I’ll explain everything to you. But know that it’s all related to the Prophecy of the Tetrabond."
Theron nodded slowly, with a slight understanding of the situation. "Galen? You’re right. But if she wanted to disrupt the ceremony, why didn’t she push through before Aveloria activated her own plans? She should have acted before the Priestess started the bonding ceremony."
"I honestly can’t think of anything," Aveloria muttered.
"A change of mind, perhaps?" Theron added.
"Something greater must have happened for Eirene to go back on her initial plans. I mean, it is clear she’s a witch who has been using black magic."
"Maybe she’s also the Queen of wanderers, as they all listen to her," Galen stated.
Lucien shook his head in disagreement. "I thought so too. But according to my findings, there’s a title of a Witch Queen. The one whom they all bow to. Whoever becomes the vessel has all the wanderers wrapped in her claws. And if Eirene had been the Witch Queen, tonight wouldn’t have been so easy. You wouldn’t have survived the first confrontation."
Her stomach tightened at his words.
"That means Eirene was a messenger," Theron said.
"A high-ranking one, but still a servant. The Witch Queen title would have suited her, but she didn’t hold it. I’m sure of it." Lucien confirmed.
"That makes sense." Aveloria sighed.
Lucien paced slowly as he spoke. "The wanderers have been capturing young wolves. Isolating them. Breaking them down. Forcing them to embrace darkness until they no longer recognize who they were."
Aveloria clenched her fists. "Children?"
"Some children. Some of age." Lucien said. "And because of what happened tonight, the Witch Queen will respond. There’s a strong chance they’ll declare war."
Theron cursed under his breath. "And the small packs will suffer first."
Lucien nodded. "They always do. They don’t have walls like this palace. They don’t have armies."
Galen leaned forward. "Then we can’t act alone."
"We won’t," Theron said. "If war is coming, the regions need to be warned."
They spent hours discussing strategies. How to fortify their borders. And planning how to protect small packs without drawing immediate retaliation.
By the time the discussion ended, the candles in the study had burned low. Theron and Galen were the first to leave, both exhausted but determined.
Lucien stayed back. "You need to rest."
Aveloria stood by the desk, staring down at scattered maps and notes. "This is the part you tell me I told you so."
Lucien’s forehead creased. "What do you mean?"
"Remember our first meeting? You said the wanderers would come for me."
"Hmmm." He grunted. "You’re still one lucky woman. I mean, you have all of us to fight with you."
"Lucien?"
"Yes."
"Thank you," she said quietly, not looking up. "For showing up. For fighting with me."
"You deserved it," Lucien replied. "At least, now I get to be with you every day."
Aveloria lifted her brows. "That’s unexpected. I thought you’d always dreaded the idea of commitment and belonging somewhere."
"I still am. But I’m bonded to you now, heiress, which means I’m stuck with you."
The room was silent except for the crackle of the dying candles. When she finally looked up, Lucien was already standing in front of her.
"Come here." He spread out his arms. As if controlled, she walked into his arms, and he embraced her tightly. He sniffed in the scent of her.
"I miss your scent so badly. You have no idea how many times I fantasized about our last night together. I still taste you on my tongue every night." He groaned.
Aveloria pulled away, her eyes met his. "Lucien, I know staying right here may feel like a cage or—"
His lips touched hers, silencing her immediately. He pulled her close to him, trapping her to the desk. Her fingers tightened around his neck, dragging him even closer.
"Show me how much you missed me." Aveloria rasped.
Their teeth clashed, tongues tangled with the desperation of longing. She reached for his belt, the damnable layers of leather and buckles, but his hand clamped over hers.
"Here? Now?" His thumb traced her lower lip.
"Take me, Lucien."
Lucien ripped her clothing apart; the sound of tearing silk drowned her gasp. He lifted her onto the desk in one motion, scrolls and maps tumbling to the floor. The cold oak bit into her thighs as he dropped to his knees.
He didn’t hesitate in his next move. His tongue and fingers were merciless. Slow, swirling strokes that dissolved into sharp sucks, his fingers plunging into her without warning and breathing space.
Aveloria fisted his hair, thighs trembling, but he only growled against her, curling his fingers, feeling her wetness until she shattered. Her back arched, her moans filling the walls of the study. Lucien didn’t let her breathe.
He flipped her, her hands gripping the edge of the desk, his cock rammed into her dripping cunt with a single brutal thrust. The slap of skin echoed off the ceiling as he fucked her raw, one hand winding in her hair to yank her head back.
"You’re mine, Aveloria." He snarled, biting her shoulder hard enough to bruise.
When his fingers pressed against her asshole, slick with her own arousal, she keened into the desk. The stretch burned brutally but blissfully, as he pushed in alongside his cock, filling her thoroughly.
His free hand found her clit, rolling it in punishing circles until her vision whited out again. He didn’t stop. Not when her thighs shook, not when her nails gouged the oak. Lucien fucked her through three more peaks, his release painting her womb only to start again, harder, his teeth at her skin as the candles guttered out around them.
By the time they both came over and over again, Aveloria was left breathing heavily on the desk.
