Chapter 659 - I’ve been loyal to you
The moment Voren was declared the Alpha King, Jaron knew without a doubt that Voren would come after him.
At this point, he hated his daughter so much. The stupid girl had so easily given away the crown Jaron had almost lost his life stealing from the Lycans, and now his authority was gone. Stripped away in a single moment, handed to the man he despised most.
No, he couldn’t just allow Voren to have the final laugh. Not when he had refused his daughter’s hand in marriage.
It was as if even his own family was trying to spite him, to punish him for not agreeing to let Liah choose Corvine over the suitors he had carefully selected.
Actually, after finding out that Corvine was born an Alpha, he didn’t have a problem anymore. The boy was worthy, had the bloodline, had the strength.
But the moment Corvine gave the crown to Voren, Jaron’s hatred and bitterness multiplied, festering like an open wound.
He texted Battal, his fingers trembling with urgency. ’It’s too late. You won’t get the white wolf anymore. The long-lost mythical stone has always been with one of our packs.’
The response was prompt, almost instantaneous. ’I want to see you.’
Jaron smiled, a cold, calculating expression that didn’t reach his eyes. This was his chance to escape from the pack before it was too late. ’Then send someone to pick me up.’
A few minutes later, he received another text. ’I sent someone plus another wizard, but they can’t enter the pack. Give them access.’
Jaron wasn’t a fool. Though he wanted to escape, he couldn’t create any more problems for Jasper, especially after emptying the pack’s coffers.
’No. I’m coming out.’ He texted back before lifting the phone to his ear as if he was on a call, performing for the benefit of anyone watching.
He entered his car and drove to the gate of the Silver Moon Pack before joining the SUV the Lycans rode, his movements quick and furtive.
There were no talks as they drove him straight to the hotel’s conference room. The silence was oppressive, broken only by Jaron’s voice.
Battal wore the same expressionless mask, but there were other Lycans seated around the conference table, their faces cold, their eyes watchful.
Jaron stood nervously after greeting those present, his palms sweating. "King Battal, the pack is no longer conducive for me, so I’ll like your help in relocating to the human world."
His voice was steadier than he felt. "I’ve lived in the pack all my life, but this time, it’s necessary for me to make the move."
There was silence for a while. a heavy, suffocating silence before Battal cleared his throat. "What is this you said about the mythical stone? How did you get it?" His voice was ice, each word a blade.
"Not me." Jaron shook his head quickly. "It’s the Grimroot pack Alpha, the one you fought with. He’s now the Alpha King." His jaw tightened with bitterness. "That idiot Corvine handed the crown to him like it was nothing, and now even my very existence is questioned."
Battal did not believe him. His expression remained blank, but his eyes flickered with something dangerous. "I’ve done some investigations on that werewolf, and guess what? I found nothing."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "You are lying to me. And if you don’t get me the white wolf, I will hold your returns from your investment."
Jaron’s fingers balled under the table, his nails digging into his palms. Those returns were his last hope, all he had to live a good life away from the pack after faking his death.
Yes, that was his plan. His wife will not agree with him to keep all that money and will be hurt if Jaron divorced her.
The only way was to make her think he was dead. "You can’t do that. I’ve been very loyal to you."
"And you also stole the crown just when I was beginning to trust you." Battal’s voice was flat, dismissive. "Since you mentioned the mythical stone, you have to get it too."
He paused, his expression rather calm. "Wait, isn’t your daughter married to that werewolf who killed Uri? She should be able to steal it for us then."
Jaron was sweating, beads of moisture rolling down his temples. If only he hadn’t extended the offer to the Lycans, then things would have been easier.
He had only reached out to get the return of his investments.
Thus, Jaron had channeled those away from the pack finances, putting the pack in a difficult position, but now it wasn’t his problem since Jasper was never on his side anyway.
"You told me that if I get other Alphas to invest, you will give me commission. I’ve brought a few, and yet nothing."
Battal scoffed, but his expression remained blank, unreadable. "Do you think that after you stole the crown, I will easily forgive you? The crown is the only reason we haven’t possessed the pack lands." His voice hardened. "So your returns are nothing compared to that crown."
Jaron’s expression turned to ashen, the color draining from his face. This was why he wasn’t willing to part with the crown, why he had risked everything to keep it. But Oriana and that shaman had to make things difficult for him, exposing him in front of everyone.
"Alright, give me shelter at your pack and let’s think up something." His voice was desperate. "If I go back now, you might never see me again."
Battal went into deep thought, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. Jaron was his only pawn to claiming the pack lands and enslaving the werewolves. So right now, though he hated the werewolf so much, he still had to bend.
"My pack is out of bounds to your kind, and you know that. Those I let in never come out because our traditions must be protected."
Jaron knew that. Had the crown not been brought to the outlands when the Lycans tried to dominate the pack lands ages ago, he would not have had the opportunity to steal it.
But for some reason, he always wanted to know what the Lycan packs looked like, the underground cities, the black magic, the secrets they guarded so fiercely.
"Your pack will be the safest for me, and I can give you any information you need and who you can use to steal the—"
He didn’t finish. Heavy but lazy footsteps approached, each step echoing in the corridor outside.
The door pushed open, and shock, fear, and confusion clouded Jaron’s mind when he saw the man at the entrance.
"Alpha V—" He caught himself, his voice trembling. "Sorry, Alpha King Voren. What are you doing here?"