Defying the Lycan King

Derek sat behind the wide oak desk in his private study, the low lamplight on the table casting long shadows across the scattered reports. Stacks of folders lay open before him— welfare summaries, supply logs, and financial traces for the Western Packs under his rule. The smaller packs on the borders had been sending concerning updates for weeks and he needed to sort them out before his so-called honeymoon vacation.

Fiona, Ruby’s assistant, stood on the other side of the desk, with her tablet in hand as she walked him through the latest figures.

Derek tapped a finger on one particular line in the latest border-pack report. "This allocation for the Silverpine Pack. The grain shipment was logged as dispatched three weeks ago, yet their alpha says they received nothing. Explain."

Fiona swallowed, flipping through her tablet with trembling fingers. "Your Grace, according to the records, the shipment left our central stores on the fifteenth. The manifest is signed and sealed. But... the Silverpine alpha’s report claims the wagons never arrived. I’ve cross-checked the route logs, but the final checkpoint entry is... incomplete."

Derek’s eyes narrowed. "Incomplete how?"

Fiona hesitated. "The signature on the final receipt is missing. Normally Miss Ruby would have the handwritten ledger entry from the escort team. She kept a separate, more detailed trace for the smaller packs because they sometimes... adjusted the numbers to suit their needs. I don’t have access to her private ledger."

Derek leaned back in his chair, jaw tightening. The welfare of the border packs was delicate. He had trusted Ruby to handle these sensitive traces precisely because she knew every alpha personally and kept meticulous off-the-books records. He missed her efficiency. Usually, he could ask a question and she would have the answer before he finished the sentence. Having to deal with Fiona’s stuttering was a reminder of why Ruby was his right hand. Seeing the chaos her absence caused made him realize just how much he relied on her. She didn’t just manage packs; she was the heart of its logistics.

He drummed his fingers once on the desk. "Send for Ruby."

Fiona blinked. "Your Grace... she is under house arrest."

"I know what she is under," Derek said, eyes hardening. "Send for her. Now."

Fiona bowed quickly. "Yes, Your Grace."

As the assistant hurried out, Derek leaned back and rubbed a hand over his jaw. He opened his mind-link and sort for one of the gammas in charge of guarding Ruby’s quarters.

’You’re to allow Ruby Veyle out of her quarters and escort her to my quarters. Just for tonight.’

***

Kira trudged up the grand staircase, her shoulders hunched in exhaustion. She had spent almost the entire day at Aethewulf organising and sharing fliers for her first charity fund raiser, in preparation of a honeymoon she still couldn’t quite believe was happening. Halfway up, Ruby’s shrill voice drifted out from Derek’s study.

Kira froze, wondering what Ruby was doing in the King’s quarters. Wasn’t she supposed to be in confinement? She told herself it was none of her business anyway.

This marriage was open. Whatever. She had packing to do, a week-long forced proximity to survive, and far more important things to worry about than whether Derek was currently entertaining his so-called bestie.

She was halfway past the study when the door swung open. Ruby stepped out and stopped dead when she saw Kira.

"Oh! Your Highness." Her smile was sharp and fake. "You’re back. I was just about to make coffee for the King and me. We’ve got rather a lot of work ahead of us tonight."

Kira felt the familiar prickle of irritation bloom low in her belly, but she kept her face perfectly composed. Ruby would always find every opportunity to remind her of her position. Kira was tired of it all and needed to put her in her place. Time to stop playing nice.

Kira mirrored her smile. "Oh, I’m definitely back, Miss Veyle," she said sweetly. "It’s the best part of being the Lady of the house, always having a home to return to. Must be tiring, practically living in the palace corridors the way you do. Don’t let me keep you from your very important coffee duties."

Ruby’s face paled, then flushed a deep, angry red as she caught the jab. Her mouth opened, closed, opened again, but no sound came out.

Kira didn’t give her the chance to recover. She offered a tight, dismissive little smile and started walking past.

"Oh, and Miss Veyle?" She tossed the words casually over her shoulder. "Could you be a darling and ask Ishita to send up some tea when you’re finished ’making coffee’? I’ve got rather a lot of packing to do in our bedroom."

She didn’t wait for a reply as she walked down the corridorr until she disappeared into the master suite. She shut the door, and leaned against it for a single heartbeat, letting out a slow, satisfied breath.

"That did it, I guess."

Outside in the hallway, Ruby’s hands curled into tight fists. She glared at the empty corridor where Kira had disappeared, chest heaving.

Who the hell did that little runt think she was? The werewolf hadn’t even looked rattled seeing her in the King’s quarters. She hadn’t even looked jealous. Ruby wanted to wrap her fingers around that girl’s neck and snuff out the life from her. She hated that runt more than anything in this world.

She turned to leave, but nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Kai leaning against a nearby doorframe. He was buffing his fingernails, a predatory smirk on his face.

Ruby almost collapsed with embarrassment. Of all the things she wanted right now, Kai’s stupid jabs were not one of them. What the heck was he even doing here?

"Ouch. That sounded like a bit of a demotion, didn’t it, Ruby?" Kai taunted. "From ’Welfare Manager’ to the ’Tea Girl’ in under sixty seconds." He lifted his gaze, smirking viciously. "At this rate the Queen will have you scrubbing the courtyard stones before breakfast."

"Get lost," Ruby hissed, and pushed back into Derek’s study.

Derek didn’t look up from his laptop as she snatched her purse from the sofa.

"I’m leaving," she announced abruptly.

He kept typing. She waited by the door, jaw tight, pulse hammering, for him to ask why or something. For anything. She was sure he overheard them outside his study door.

Silence.

"Since your queen clearly doesn’t want me here," she added, voice trembling with the effort to stay composed.

That finally earned her a glance. Derek’s eyes were cool and unreadable. He studied her for a long moment.

Her heart leapt. Was he finally going to defend her? Reprimand that stupid little werewolf? Remind everyone who had known him longest?

Then he returned his attention to the screen. "Have a good night, Ruby," he said evenly. "I’ll send for you when I need you."

Her jaw dropped. For one stunned second she couldn’t move. Fury and humiliation burned behind her eyes.

She wanted to scream that she had known him since they were children, that his marriage wasn’t real, and that he should be choosing her over some wolfless traitor who had no right to speak to her like that. But she knew Derek. He hated raised voices, hated drama and disorder.

So she balled her hands into fists, swallowed the words, turned on her heel, and yanked the door open.

"Good night, Your Grace."

The door slammed behind her. Derek didn’t flinch.