CHAPTER 234: OFFENDER

Chapter 234

Isaac

The floor is hard. Cold enough to seep through bone, making me regret every second I spend here instead of in bed with a book—or better, with Poppy.

The only light dribbles through a barred slit of a window, high up on the wall. Barely enough to see my own hand.

I shift, pulling my knees closer. Should I take my animal form? It would be warmer. More natural. But no—I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me reduced to a beast behind bars.

Footsteps.

My ears twitch, the hairs on my neck rising.

I don’t even need to look up.

"Your Highness," I say dryly, voice echoing in the small space. "What can I do for you?"

The voice that answers is exactly the one I expected, dripping with that entitled confidence only a lion could carry.

"I thought you were smart," Felix says, "but laying a hand on royalty? Not very bright."

I smirk, though he can’t see it in the dimness. "True. But I weighed the pros and cons and, honestly? Feeling the crunch of my fist against your jaw was very satisfactory."

There’s a pause. He hadn’t expected that.

"You don’t seem worried," he mutters, his voice closer now, echoing against the stone.

"Oh, I am worried," I reply casually, leaning back until the wall scrapes against my antlers. "I mean, I did hit the

little lion. Actions, consequences. All that. But you see..." I tilt my head, knowing he’s listening, "...I still gained something."

Silence.

A chuckle slips past my lips. "Curious, aren’t you?"

He doesn’t answer. Which is as good as a yes.

"No matter what happens—expulsion, jail, a slap on the wrist—this whole spectacle made sure she’ll never, ever go back to you." My grin widens in the dark.

"That’s my victory. Not yours."

His scoff is sharp, irritated. Perfect.

I close my eyes, satisfied. "So Your Highness, why don’t you just leave me and the future mother of my kids alone?"

That hits. I can hear it in the way his breath stutters before his growl rumbles low through the dungeon air.

"You bastard, I’ll—"

I tune out the rest, his threats bouncing uselessly off the stone. Lions love the sound of their own roars.

***

Felix

I stomp out of the dungeon, jaw clenched so hard it aches.

What nonsense.

Poppy will never come back to me?

Impossible.

I cut across the courtyard, ignoring the students who shrink back at the storm in my stride. Straight to her dorm. Empty.

I grab the nearest Longear by the collar. "Where is she?"

He stammers something about the Panther’s wing, about her being seen near Nyxclaw’s private accommodations.

Running away.

My blood boils.

I push the boy aside and head straight for it, boots echoing against the stone path.

I head towards where I know her accommodations are, in the hostel building, when I’m stopped.

"I’m afraid, Your Highness—no further." Two guards block the stairwell, stepping in perfect unison.

Their armor is heavier than academy issue—blackened steel polished to a cold gleam, the insignia of Nyxclaw etched deep across the chestplate.

Ha.

Of course.

I rake a hand through my hair, jaw tight, ready to demand my way through when another voice cuts in.

"How dare you treat the Prince this way!" Velesia snaps, stepping to my side like an avenging blade. Her voice is sharp, venomous, her eyes flashing yellow.

Behind her, the guards she dragged along move instantly, fanning out in a protective wall at my back.

The corridor thickens with tension—two factions of steel and fangs staring each other down.

"We have our orders," the lead Nyxclaw guard says, his voice low, steady. He inclines his head just enough to avoid insult—but his hand rests firmly on the hilt of his sword.

A warning.

Not submission.

My gaze narrows. "Orders? From who?"

"From the Duchess," the guard answers evenly. His eyes flick once, deliberate, to the crest on his chestplate, before returning to mine. "Forgive us, Your Highness. But if you try to enter, we will stop you."

The word stop carries weight. Finality.

Velesia bristles, hissing. "You dare threaten—"

I hold up a hand, silencing her.

Because I can see it in their eyes. These aren’t bluffing. These are Nyxclaw panthers—born and bred to protect their Duchess, not to play politics. If I take one step forward, steel will be drawn, blood will be spilled.

And right now, I can’t afford a scandal,not with everything already unraveling with Poppy.

The rumors, the whispers, the looks in the halls... if blood spilled here, it wouldn’t be forgotten.

I exhale through my nose, sharp and furious, and turn on my heel. My cloak snaps behind me, the sound loud in the tense silence.

Velesia falls into step instantly, her tail lashing in outrage. "Your Highness, you can’t let them bar you like this. It’s an insult—"

"Enough," I cut her off, my voice low and edged.

She stiffens but obeys.

If there’s one thing my grandfather, the tutors, the council—everyone drills into me—it’s that I should leave the Panthers alone.

They are not to be trifled with.

And as much as it grates, I know they’re right.

I might be the heir, but I don’t have a faction. I don’t have the consolidated power of a king. Not yet. And the last thing I can afford right now is to piss off the Duchess of Nyxclaw, especially when the academy is already buzzing with talk of me chasing after a Longear.

One wrong move and the narrative changes from "the prince is passionate" to "the prince is reckless."

I force my hands to unclench, flexing my fingers before they cut deeper into my palms.

Not yet.

The time will come when I won’t have to walk away. When the crown is mine, when every faction bends the knee, not even Nyxclaw will stop me.

Exhaling hard and keep walking, every step measured, every muscle screaming for a fight I can’t afford—yet.