Defying the Lycan King

Flora had already laid out breakfast on the wide deck table by the time they returned from their run. Fresh fruit, warm bread, eggs, and a pot of strong coffee waited under a light muslin cloth to keep the sea breeze from stealing the warmth. Kira and Derek went upstairs to freshen up.

Derek finished first and came down in a simple black shirt and trousers, hair still damp, and stepped out onto the deck. The morning sun was climbing higher, turning the sea into glittering shards of light. He saw Flora, but Alistar was nowhere in sight.

It was quite surprising that the old loyal dog wasn’t hovering for once.

"Where’s Alistar?" he asked Flora as he pulled out a chair.

Flora wiped her hands on her apron. "He’s gone into town to fetch some medicine for Maya."

Derek remembered the little girl vividly. "How is she?"

Flora let out a weary sigh, her shoulders dropping slightly before she managed a nod. "We are still trying our best, Your Grace."

Before he could press further, the sliding door slid open, and Kira walked, now dressed in simple denim shorts and an off-shoulder blouse. Her hair was tied in a loose bun on top of her head, with tiny strands falling over her face. She had caught the tail end of the conversation and slid into the seat opposite Derek, curiosity bright in her eyes.

"Who’s Maya?" she asked, reaching for the coffee pot.

Derek’s nostrils flared instantly as her scent hit him—warm skin, faint lavender from her soap, and that sweet jasmine that was purely her. He had a sudden, almost uncontrollable urge to lean across the table, bury his face in her neck or her hair, and draw in a deep lungful. Heat surged low in his belly, blood rushing south so fast it made his cock twitch hard against the fabric of his trousers.

What the hell is wrong with me? he thought, jaw tightening as he shifted in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust the problem rising beneath the table. Leo stirred deep inside, rumbling with sudden, insistent need for closeness. He forced his expression to remain blank, fingers curling around his coffee mug a fraction too tightly.

He couldn’t fathom what was going on. He was a man who knew how to control his urges; it came naturally to most Lycans. Werewolves might act on every primal instinct, but Lycans were more sophisticated and more disciplined. The mate craze was none of their business. True, Lycan hormone was always at its peak during their teenage years. But Derek was no teenage boy with a pulse in his throat, yet here he was, a grown adult, fighting an urge that had no right to exist for the daughter of his enemy.

He hadn’t married her out of affection, only political expediency and his own selfish plans. She came wrapped in very mysterious circumstances, which he was still trying to unravel. With Rolf’s blood running through her veins. He knew exactly where her loyalties lay, and it wasn’t with him. Her answer to his question on the beach had proven that.

"I’m loyal to no one. Only to myself," she had said.

He wasn’t a fool. If he let his guard down, she would use his desire just as Sandra had.

"Maya is our granddaughter," Flora’s voice pulled him back from the edge of his thoughts. The woman was smiling softly, though her eyes held a shadow of sadness. "Both her parents... they died during the war. She’s been quite... special ever since."

Kira paused, her mug halfway to her mouth. Her brow furrowed in genuine concern. "Special? What’s wrong with her? Is she ill?"

Flora seemed to hesitate, her gaze flickering to the doorway as if checking for someone. "She’s just... quiet, Your Highness. Doesn’t speak much, if at all. But she’s a sweet girl." She quickly smoothed her apron, clearly wanting to change the subject. "But enough of that. I’m heading into the village shortly to check the morning catch. I want to get some fresh sea bass for dinner."

Kira’s gaze flicked towards Derek for a moment. She noticed how he quickly averted his eyes from her and focused on his meal. He made no comment, offered no attempt to join the conversation.

Flora turned to Kira with a warm smile. "Is there any particular dish you’d like, Your Highness? I’d love to make you something traditional from Snow Crest. You might enjoy it."

Kira’s face lit up. "That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Flora. Anything you think I’d like. I’m not picky."

Flora beamed, gave a small nod, and slipped away toward the path that led to the village, leaving the deck quiet except for the distant crash of waves and the soft clink of cutlery.

The moment the older woman was out of sight, Kira turned her attention fully to Derek. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, eyes fixed on him.

"Speaking of food... what’s your favourite?"

Derek didn’t even look up from his eggs. "Eat your breakfast, Kira and don’t speak to me."

"Oh, come on," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "We’re supposed to be on a honeymoon. We should at least know the mundane things about each other, just in case someone asks. Imagine the scandal if the Queen doesn’t know what her King likes to eat." She tapped her fingers on the table. "Make it easy for me, Derek. One dish. That’s all."

Silence. He speared another piece of egg and chewed with infuriating slowness.

"Fine," Kira huffed, leaning back. "I’ll go first to show you how it’s done. My favourite colour is teal—like the sea out there. I love spicy noodles from the university food stalls, and I could spend hours reading old adventure novels or organising charity events. Your turn. Favourite colour? Food? Something you actually enjoy doing when you’re not being all kingly and brooding?"

Derek continued to eat in silence, his expression as unreadable as a stone wall.

Kira knew their relationship was fake, but they had been together for weeks. She had hardly gone a day without any interactions with him, no matter how cold. They had slept together, ridden in the same car, shared meals. So, even if their marriage was a farce, she was actually getting used to him in a way that baffled her. Knowing there was nothing else she could do, she had resigned her fate to this marriage, deciding to give it her all until the contract expires. There should be a kind of rapport between them; they ought to be friends, or at least acquaintances, before the contract expires. They shouldn’t part as enemies.

Her lips curved into a mischievous smile. She leaned forward slightly, voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone. "Fine. Want to hear a joke instead?"

Derek’s head snapped up instantly. His eyes narrowed into a fierce glare. "No," he snapped.

Kira’s grin widened in triumph. She sat back, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

"There, there, Derek," she said sweetly, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "I only wanted to get a reaction out of you. I seem to know exactly what makes you tick, after all."

Derek stared at her, stunned by her audacity. For a King, he was remarkably easy for her to rattle, and the realisation only made his blood run hotter.