CHAPTER 184: CHAPTER 184: LOSING MIND

The sound of her voice made Vaelen’s aura explode outward. The royal warriors around them took a step back. The entire room seemed to suffocate under his presence.

Drevan flinched, his instincts screaming at him to kneel again, but he fought it desperately. "Prince Vaelen! I swear I didn’t know it was her. I didn’t come here to harm anyone. Someone tricked me... someone wanted this to happen!"

Vaelen’s eyes glowed brighter, like molten gold. "And why would anyone need to trick you, Alpha Drevan? Who do you think you are that someone is plotting against you?"

"Or did you do something that made someone want revenge against you?"

Drevan’s jaw locked. His voice shook. "Because..." He couldn’t complete his sentence because the prince’s next word made him tongue-tied.

He had done something, but he couldn’t even remember what. What was actually wrong here at all? Wasn’t everything he did just to gain power in life? And this he knew: he had done many unforgivable things.

But how the hell could he remember what this threat was for? Wasn’t everything he did just to gain power in life?

Not thinking about all of this, he suddenly realized that he had actually almost killed a girl in his anger just because of a useless note, which now didn’t even exist at all.

Was he that drunk, or was someone really playing with him?

Whatever it was, he knew he had messed up really hard. That a single note actually made him react like this. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he realized the severity of it.

And now he had actually committed a crime, and most probably he had actually made himself look savage in front of the prince’s eyes; he literally wanted to kill that bastard who dared to pull this on him.

The man must have known how much he wanted to get the prince’s attention here for his project, but now he had successfully entered his most-hated person’s list.

And judging by the way he stood against the girl, she must not be ordinary. But who is she? He had never heard about any Lycan princess.

Is she the bastard daughter of the Lycan King... because this was the only possibility he could think of... but the prince has always hated those existences and never associated with them until now...

He looked at the terrifying girl once again and made a mental note to find out more about her.

On the other hand, Vaelen said nothing. His hand still rested on Serena’s shoulder, his expression unreadable, but his mind was racing.

He looked back down at the empty note in his hand. Blank as if it had never been written on. Yet the paper smelled faintly of blood, even though there was no blood on it.

Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.

Vaelen slowly turned his eyes back to Drevan. "You’d better pray, Alpha, that your words are true. Because if I find out you touched her for anything more than what you claim..."

His voice lowered in a final, cold warning. "...I’ll make sure your wolf dies before you do."

The room fell into silence. The warriors stood ready, tension hanging like a blade in the air.

Drevan bowed his head slightly... not in submission, but in bitter restraint. His pride burned, but even he knew better than to challenge a prince now.

"I’ll find out who did this," he said through gritted teeth. "Whoever set this up, they will pay for this. They’ll get worse than that."

Vaelen’s stare stayed fixed on him. "See that you do."

He turned to lead Serena out of the room, his arm around her shoulders as she leaned weakly against him. But before he left, he looked back once more, his gaze dark and sharp as a blade.

"And, Alpha Drevan," he said quietly, "if I ever see fear in her eyes again because of you... there won’t be a second warning."

The moment the prince and Serena disappeared through the door, the silence shattered.

Drevan’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. The veins on his temple bulged, and his chest heaved. He could still feel the weight of the prince’s aura pressing on him, the humiliation of being made small, of being looked at like a beast barely worthy of a leash.

Then he caught the eyes of his pack: his own men. The warriors who were supposed to respect him and fear him.

But they were looking at him with something else now.

Contempt.

Pity.

Disgust.

Something in him snapped.

"What the hell are you staring at!?" He roared, his voice cracking through the air like thunder.

The nearest warrior flinched, taking a step back, but that only made Drevan angrier. He moved fast, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him against the wall.

"Do you think I’m lying too? Is that what you all think!?" He snarled, his eyes flashing gold, his fangs half-bared.

"N-no, Alpha—"

"Then why the hell are you looking at me like that!?"

He threw the man aside. The warrior hit the ground hard, gasping for breath. The others lowered their eyes instantly, but it was too late. Drevan’s fury was uncontrollable now. He overturned the table beside him, sending bottles and papers crashing to the floor.

"DAMN IT!" His roar shook the room. "One damn note... one and everything falls apart!"

He kicked the fallen chair so hard it shattered. "Whoever did this to me... whoever made me look like a fool in front of him... I’ll skin them alive."

The warriors stayed silent. No one dared to move.

He turned, breathing heavily, his eyes wild. Sweat rolled down his face, mixing with the faint traces of blood from his knuckles where he had punched the wall.

"Find out," he hissed. "Every single person who could’ve slipped that note into my hand. I want names before dawn."

"Yes, Alpha," they chorused, scrambling to obey.

Drevan stepped out of the room with his chest still heaving. He expected the corridor to be empty, but instead the hall was packed.

People pressed along the walls, faces half-hidden in shadow. Men he knew. Men he thought loyal. Men he hated. And men he had enemies with. All of them were there, like vultures waiting for a carcass. Damn, then someone had really invited the entire crowd here. Bastard!

They fell quiet as he appeared, but the silence was not respect. It was hungry. It was full of whispers. Drevan’s stomach turned.

"You damn fool," someone spat from the back, voice loud enough for the whole hall. "Touching a Lycan’s kin? Did you forget who you are, old man?"

A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd. Drevan’s fingers curled into fists. The anger that had been simmering in the prince’s presence flared back, brighter and harder to control.

He moved forward without thinking, eyes fixed on the man who’d spoken. The man, a barely young Alpha from a nearby hold, met Drevan’s glare with a grin that said he had expected this. "What? Not your favorite night, Alpha? God, you’re ancient and still chasing skirts. Even with a prince in the room, you had to grope a pretty thing."

The words hit like knives. Drevan swallowed. His jaw ached. He wanted to tear the man’s head off and smear it on the wall. Every muscle in him screamed for violence.

Before he could close the distance, other voices joined in.

"Desires clouded your mind. Eyes want what they want, even if the head knows better." Another Alpha stepped forward, pushing through the crowd with his underlings. "If she weren’t with the prince, I bet half of you would be crawling after her. No shame left in some of you."

Heat crawled up Drevan’s neck. His face went hot. He could feel the pack around him like a pressure, tightening. Men glanced at each other with smirks; he knew they were doing it to rile him up just to please his enemies.

Someone snickered. Someone else muttered that the prince would be laughing if he knew how Drevan had been made a fool.

Drevan’s hands trembled. He felt blood in his mouth from where his teeth had cut the inside of his cheek.

He lunged.

The young Alpha had barely had time to react. Drevan’s fist smashed into his jaw with a brutal, bone-cracking impact. The man spat teeth and blood, collapsing to the stone with a sick sound. The first roar from the crowd came then... half-pleasure, half-horror.

Most of them were cheering, and Drevan could not let it go; they were challenging his authority.

Drevan didn’t stop. He grabbed the fallen man’s hair and dragged him up like a rag, driving his knee into the man’s chest so hard the ribs popped under the force. Blood sprayed, warm and metallic, painting Drevan’s lips scarlet.

The old fury ate him whole; the memory of the prince’s glare, the blank note, the smell of blood on paper—all of it turned to a single animal purpose: to destroy those who made him small.

"Enough!" someone shouted. A heavy hand landed on Drevan’s shoulder. He spun, teeth bared. It was one of his oldest friends, Hark, a broad-shouldered wolf who had been with him through years. Hark’s face was pale, eyes wide with fear that Drevan might lose himself completely.

"He’s baiting you," Hark hissed, voice tight. "They set you up to snap in public."

Drevan’s head throbbed. He wanted to rip Hark’s throat out for saying what he already knew. For telling him the truth in a moment where truth was laid bare.