Lycan King's Regret: Punished The Wrong Daughter

Arabella Toussaint:

He wanted to know why I was upset, and I needed to come up with some excuse. Telling him about Jasmine meant there would be more trouble between them because of me, and I didn’t want that.

I looked away from him. "I... I just saw Victor after three years. I guess I got a little emotional." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Seeing him brought back some old memories I’d rather not remember."

It wasn’t entirely a lie, and hopefully, it would get him off my back. Lucien straightened immediately. "Then you’re not meeting him again. I’ll have Bradley..." All the softness disappeared from his face.

"No." I stopped him before he could finish. "I want to do this myself, Your Highness."

His eyes narrowed. "There’s no need for you to put yourself through that." He reached for my hand as his thumb started brushing my knuckles. "I can take care of Victor and..."

"No, please." I was already shaking my head. "I’m not that eighteen-year-old girl anymore, my King. I’m not going to get scared and run away from everything that hurts." I paused, trying to find the right words. "I need to do this. Let me get it out of my system... please."

For a moment, he didn’t respond. His hand remained around mine as he studied my face, clearly not happy with my decision. But then his fingers loosened.

"Alright," he said reluctantly. "But you don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Arabella."

Some of the tension left my shoulders. "I know."

"So," he said, "why did you come here?"

Right.

Victor.

I moved closer and rested my hand on Lucien’s thigh without thinking, too distracted by everything running through my head to realize. "Did you ever consider that Victor might not be the man you’re looking for?"

Lucien’s gaze dropped briefly to my hand before returning to my face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you have footage of Victor taking Anika into that room, but that’s it. There’s nothing showing what actually happened once they were inside." I thought about the reports. "And then there’s that other girl. The one who helped Victor."

Lucien watched me carefully before giving a small nod. "We never found anything that directly showed Victor killing her. But what are you getting at?"

"I don’t know yet." I finally noticed where my hand was and quickly pulled it back. "I still need to do my homework. I need to go through everything again and talk to people who were there that night."

I hesitated before looking at him. "If we are going to start the investigation all over again, we need to rule Victor out first."

Lucien’s face twisted at my words. He pushed away from the desk and turned, walking back toward his chair without saying anything.

I got it. He didn’t like that idea one bit.

Lucien was already convinced Victor had been involved in Anika’s murder. In his mind, that part of the case was already settled. All he wanted now was to find the other girl and figure out where she fit into it.

But after talking to Victor today, I had this strange feeling that we might have gotten it wrong from the very beginning. Maybe Victor wasn’t the killer.

And even if he was, I wanted us to prove it properly this time. Not assume. Not fill in the blanks just because everything pointed in his direction.

I wanted solid proof.

Lucien lowered himself into his chair and looked at me across the table. "You spoke to him for what... ten minutes? And suddenly years of evidence mean nothing because your brother looked you in the eyes and made you doubt it?" Those words stung.

"You’re the one who asked me to help you," I reminded him. "You said we would start from the beginning, and you promised you would help me. That doesn’t work if I’m only allowed to reach the same conclusions you already have."

He pressed his lips together and said nothing for a few seconds. Leaning back in his chair, he kept his eyes fixed on mine. "Fine. Rule him out."

I blinked. What!

"But understand something, Arabella." He leaned forward, his forearms resting on the desk. "I’m letting you prove your point, Arabella. Don’t mistake that for me believing it."

I quickly nodded. "I know."

"And if following the evidence brings you right back to Victor, you don’t look away because he’s your brother." His gaze didn’t leave mine. "You put him back on that list yourself."

I swallowed, but nodded again. "Fair enough, Your Highness."

***

I entered the small wooden lodge right outside the palace where they made him sit while waiting for me. I tried to suppress the excitement bubbling inside me. Victor was sitting on a chair, hunched over the small table with his hands clasped together.

"Victor." I closed the door behind me and walked toward him. "Now you need to talk to me. Please..." He looked up in confusion.

"I spoke to King Lucien. I have his approval to look into everything again." I pulled out the chair across from him. "So, tell me what happened that night. If you really are innocent, I might be able to prove it."

Instead of looking relieved, Victor wiped his face with the back of his hand. That was when I noticed the sweat. There was too much of it for someone sitting in a cool room. Even after wiping his forehead, tiny beads appeared along his hairline again.

"Victor?" He lowered his eyes to the table. "You need to talk to me," I reminded him. "If you really want me to prove that you didn’t do it."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." But he said nothing else, and I waited. His fingers tightened around each other while his attention remained fixed on the table as if there was something fascinating about the wood.

"Victor," I tapped on the wooden table, "I’m waiting." Slowly, he raised his head, and my impatience disappeared. His eyes were welled with tears.

"I..." His mouth opened, but he struggled to get the words out. "I can’t."

"What do you mean, you can’t?" I leaned forward. "I just told you I can help prove you’re innocent."

"I’m sorry." He shook his head quickly. "I ... I can’t." Then he shot to his feet so fast that the chair nearly toppled over. "I’m leaving."

"What?" I stood as well.

"I came because you wanted to meet me, Arabella. I met you. Now I’m leaving."

"Victor, stop." I hurried around the table when he headed for the door. "Where are you going? We haven’t even finished talking. I just got the king to agree..."

"No!" He spun around so suddenly that I stopped. "I’m sorry, Arabella. I need to leave." His breathing had become uneven. He wiped his face again, but this time it wasn’t sweat he was wiping away. "If I say anything, she’ll kill me."

I stared at him. "Kill you? Who will kill you?"

"She... she will." His face crumpled. "She comes every night." His words came out between shaky breaths, and this time he didn’t try to wipe away the tears. "Every fucking night, Arabella. She comes into my dreams and tells me to keep my mouth shut. She says if I tell anyone what happened, she’ll kill me."

A chill ran through me. He was now crying openly. "I can’t do it." He backed toward the door. "I can’t. I’m sorry."

"Victor..."

"I am a murderer," his voice broke. "Please. Let me go. I don’t care anymore. Just let me go." Before I could reach him, he pulled the door open and rushed out.

I stood there staring at the open door, my mind stuck on one thing. Who was trying to get into Victor’s dreams?

Was it Queen Theodora?