Lycan King’s Nemesis

ASHTON

“Where is Striker?” I asked as I approached the stables in the morning, an obscured smile hinting at the background of my face for obvious reasons. It had been so since last night. One would think I won the lottery from the manner my heartbeat was plummeting inside my chest.

Just because of her.

Love felt that way.

“He is feeding in the open field, Your Highness,” Tyga said, pointing in the direction of the open plush meadow where a huge black stallion was bent feeding. These days, I no longer bother to hide them. I wonder why my mother hadn’t taken notice.

“Prepare him.” I marched forward into the stables to check on the two other horses in there. I will be going to the big ranch to check out the rest later on, not that it was necessary, as I trusted Tyga. Merely for formality’s sake. At the first house, a greyhound poked its nose in my palm, sniffing for treats, causing me to grin. I fed him one which he was fast to ravish and came back for more, I ignored him until I was done with the others.

Greedy beast.

“Here, Your Highness,” I heard Tiga say from outside and patted the three houses respectively, hence I made my way out.

“Have a good day, monster. I have a promise to keep. Wish me luck.” A snort from the first white hound had a full-blown smile stretched on my face as I made my out.

Soon, I was on my way down the path, with only one place in mind.

It was midday when I got to the beach house-as a result of how fast I galloped nonstop. I intend to share in the warmth of my mate tonight and nothing was going to stop me, not even this. I jumped down and brushed my fingers through the thick spinal mane of Striker as I scanned my eyes about the house, my mind returning to the last time I was here with my mate.

It provoked more excitement and with it contentment in knowing that what I was about to do was for the best.

I covered the distance to the door, produced the copper jiggling keys to unlock the door, and holding the chilled knob, pushed in the oak door. A quiet house greeted me. “I will be damned,” I mumbled, closing the door after me.

As I said, I didn’t intend to waste much time here so I beelined for the pantry, ransacked until I found something close to a waste bag, and then raced up the stairs to the one room I couldn’t remember the last time I had the courage to open it. I threw it open and was smacked by dust. “Ahem,” I cleared my throat, shielding my face from more aggressive assault from the disagreeable dust.

I threw the curtains aside and unlocked the windows, then began pushing everything that belonged to Emma into the bag, most especially her picture frames.

It was almost sunset before I was done. I burned everything. All of it, not leaving anything. It was hard, very hard, but very appeasing. For once since the devastating tragedy, I felt whole peace.

By the time I locked the house and made my way back home, I was literally over the moon proud of myself and couldn’t wait to share it with my little wolf.

Instead of the palace, I detoured the rogue’s place to see my sister and personally invite her to William’s funeral. I needed her to know I still loved her and despite our minor clash, I was still her brother and would always be here for her.

I knocked on the hardwood and waited. I perceived the scent of the rogue before the door flung open and he stood there glaring at me.

“I’m not here for trouble,” I uttered, lifting my two hands. “I’m here to see my sister.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, big man.” He crossed his arms which were almost my arm size across his chest, tilting his nose in the air in deviance.

I smiled and leaned closer, not to intimidate him. “Hey, I don’t know what is going on between you and my sister, I just need you to know that I already know she is here and unless you have a room worthy for a King, then step aside this minute.”

“This is my house!” He rumbled. More smiles.

In a flash, I yanked him aside and was inside the house. He knew better than to attack me.

“I said she is not here!”

“And I said I need to see her. Abigail, come down this minute!”

“You are so arrogant and stupid,” He snagged, disrespectfully. My fists bunched, but I fought to control myself. I was here for peace so I had to be calm.

“Tyler…” I drawled softly, gradually stepping forward until we were a breath away. “I… I understand you have something against me. A secret I have lived to regret every day of my life and one that had made you lose respect for me. But I have paid my dues when it comes to you… I saved you from a treacherous path. I saved you from misery, from dejection and this is the way you pay me? Disrespect me? Hide my sister?”

“You deserve everything that comes to you, King, because you were the first to come at me. And for the last time, I don’t have your sister.”

I shrugged, suddenly done with this. “Fine. Do you want to spill my secret to my family? Go ahead. Go ahead and tell them I paid you to murder my ex because I was so much in pain all I cared about was to have my pound of flesh. What about you? Don’t forget you were also involved. I only blame myself for giving you the life your own people took from you.” I saw a flicker of regret pass over his face. “So, go ahead and do whatever you want. I hope you gain from it.”

“You will not…”

“You- you murdered Emma?” I heard a feeble voice say from the staircase and jerked back in shock. I have never seen the look of disgust from Abigail as I saw now. “You killed her?”

“Abigail…”

“I can’t believe this! Brother! How could you?”

I stepped forward, she stepped back, fear replacing the former. She grasped the baluster tightly as tears shimmered in our similar-coloured eyes. “You are a murderer, Ashton. How could you murder a woman you claimed to have loved? We all pitied you and stood by you, blaming her for what she did to you and you went behind us to kill her? Does mother know this?” A tear fell down her face.Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

I swallowed, unable to say a thing. What do I have to say? She was right. I was disgusting. I was a murderer. A sick man and I need to hide away. “Williams would be buried on Saturday. You can come if you want.” With that, without another glance at Tyler, I made for the door with a heavy heart.

.

.

.

That evening, I came late to dinner. My mate sat there, looking radiant as always, a reason to swell my heart, but the weight seated there made it impossible for me. She shared a look with me, which turned to worry as she noticed my disposition. Oh, what did I do to deserve a gem like her?

“Are you okay?” She asked gently as I sat down beside her at the table.

“Yes,” I forced a smile. I was about to tell her, thanks for asking when the dining door swung open and Abigail walked in. My heart dropped.

“Abby!” Gwen was out of her chair, going to hug her friend. “You are here for real.” She moved away from her, holding her by the shoulders. She faced her family. “Mom, Dad, meet Abigail, the one I told you about. The princess and Ashton’s only sister.”

“Oh…” Salome purred. “She is so beautiful just like her mother.”

“Thank you,” Abigail said, her smile not reaching her eyes. “I’m glad to meet you too. I’m sorry I haven’t been here since your arrival.”

“I particularly like your eyes. Seem to be a family… acquisition.” That was Theresa.

“That’s my junior sister, Theresa, and her husband.” Gwen introduced them.

“Oh… nice.” Abby made her way toward my mother and bowed slightly. “Mother…

“If truly you think me your mother, Abigail, then you should think twice before plunging this family into further scandal than we can stomach.”

“Mother, not now.” Abby hushed, sitting down. Gwen came back to sit too and began eating. Underneath the table, I took her free hand and squeezed as though telling her to forgive me for the doom I envisaged Abby was here to wreck.

“I am most displeased with you, Abigail, and certainly tired of cuddling to your nuisances. You are no longer a child! We are the royal family and the other members of this Kingdom look up to us. But you have chosen to be recalcitrant, selfish, and stubborn. Look at your brother!”

“Mother…”

“I am tired of being the one who is left out,” Abby sobbed, tears starting to stream down her face. “You won’t even spare me the shame in front of our guests, Mother. It’s always about him. What about me?”

“Because you do not consider us when you often choose to be wild!” Mother was not relenting.

“At least I am not a murderer!” Abby thundered. My hands froze, my spoon dropping loudly.

“Excuse me?” My mother quizzed, the corner of her eyes creasing in rage. Any minute and she will lose it.

“I said at least I am not a murderer,” Abby repeated, looking directly at me. “You make it look like I was the devil spawn herself meanwhile your dear perfect son here is going about murdering his former women. Did he tell you he killed Emma?”

“Abby…” I grunted, fisting my right palm.

“Oh… I’m sorry, brother, maybe, it’s time Mother knew you ain’t a saint anyways.”

“What is she talking about, son? Em-are we still talking about the same werewolf girl who broke your heart?”

There was intensive silence as I tried to process my next words. I knew I couldn’t lie most as I didn’t want my words to be against my sister’s coupled with the fact that I was tired of bearing this hefty guilt. “Yes… yes, mother. I did it.”

…