Defying the Lycan King-Chapter 22: The Wicked King

So cold, Kira thought, her consciousness drifting in the grey space between sleep and wakefulness.

A phone buzzed relentlessly somewhere close. She groaned, rolled over to escape the noise, only to roll straight off the bed and hit the floor with a thud.

"Ouch!" she yelped, eyes snapping open.

The first thing she saw was the underside of a mahogany desk and a towering bookshelf crammed with books. Her neck ached from the awkward angle she had slept in. Morning sunlight slipped through the blinds, casting striped shadows across the room, birds sang outside like nothing was wrong, and from the courtyard below came the sharp bark of men’s voices issuing commands.

The phone buzzed again.

Kira pushed herself up, rubbing her sore neck as the fog of sleep cleared. She was in Derek’s study. Right. Last night flooded back: storming in to annoy him, prattling on until she had fallen asleep right there on his couch. She had even asked him to wake her when he finished.

"Wicked King," she muttered under her breath. "Absolute jerk. Couldn’t even be bothered to wake me."

She stood, hugging herself against the morning chill. He hadn’t even bothered to toss a blanket over her. No pillow, no warmth, just the cold leather of the couch and an equally cold floor. She sucked her teeth in annoyance.

The phone buzzed again, and she shot a glare at the phone on the desk. If it didn’t shut up soon, she was going to smash it.

Then, she realised it looked like hers. She crossed to the desk. Yes, it was her phone, placed neatly beside a folded note in that familiar sharp cursive. She snatched it up and read:

’Here’s your damn phone, and you can resume school whenever you want. I hope never to be disturbed by you again.’

She huffed a breath, rolled her eyes, a slow, triumphant smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite herself. She tapped the phone against her chin.

"Sweet Kira: 1. Ruthless King: 0," she whispered, fist-pumping in victory.

"That’s enough strength building for today. Spar," a familiar deep voice boomed from the courtyard.

Curiosity pulled her to the window. She parted the blinds just enough to peek.

Her breath hitched.

Bare-chested men sparred under the rising sun, bodies gleaming with sweat.

She spotted Declan and Connor, but her eyes immediately locked onto her wicked husband. Derek was in the centre, moving with a deranged, terrifying power as he fended off multiple warriors at once. She couldn’t look away. There was something primal, almost hypnotic, about the way he fought. He wasn’t just training; he looked like he was fighting for his very life.

"Is that how sparring usually works?" she murmured to herself.

One by one the warriors fell until only Connor and Declan remained. She watched, astonished, as Derek brutalised his way through the last of it.

Nothing about him is soft, she thought.

The fight ended with Declan slamming Derek against a wooden barrier. They stayed there for a heartbeat, glaring at each other, chests heaving, before Derek shoved him away and began to stride toward the edge of the yard.

As if he sensed her gaze, his head snapped up, straight toward the study window. Kira squeaked, yanked the blinds shut, and pressed her back against the wall. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she placed a palm on her chest.

"That was close," she breathed. "Right. Time to get dressed. Go to school. Escape this madhouse."

She turned to leave, but a sudden, guttural roar from below stopped her cold.

"Brian!"

Her feet carried her back to the window before she could think. She peeled the blinds back again. Brian had just sauntered into the yard, shirtless and smirking, looking every bit the entitled prince he was.

***

Derek was already turning away when the scent hit him. Brian’s musky, arrogant scent flooded his senses, and Leo went absolutely feral.

Leo howled, clawed, and tore at his ribs to get out. Derek tried to shove the beast down, but the possessiveness surged white-hot and unstoppable. He couldn’t remember the last time Leo had reacted this violently. His human side screamed that the marriage was open, that he didn’t care who she met or what she did. But the primal part of him wanted to rip Brian apart for daring to touch what was his.

"Brian!" Derek’s voice wasn’t a greeting; it was a death knell.

Brian froze, his brows shooting up. The cocky grin faltered for a fraction of a second before he masked it with a tilt of his head. "Morning, cousin. You look... a bit on edge."

Derek’s hands flexed at his sides, his stare deadly. He was never going to confront Brian directly, but Brian wasn’t walking away unscathed. Not after what he had done in the past. He was going to get back at his bastard cousin for always wanting what was his.

He stepped closer, voice deadly calm. "You’ve always wanted the throne. Claimed I didn’t deserve it."

Brian’s brow furrowed. "What are you on about?"

"What you couldn’t win legitimately, you can try to take with force," Derek growled. "Here’s your chance. Challenge me. Now. Winner takes the crown."

Brian’s eyes narrowed, then widened with dark amusement. "You’re serious?"

"Deadly."

"Have you lost your mind?" Declan hissed, stepping forward to intervene.

Derek raised a hand, silencing him without looking away from Brian.

Brian laughed once, short, sharp and delighted, but the smugness returned full force. "A public humiliation? Bold move, little cousin. I accept."

They began to circle. There was no warm-up or rules. Derek didn’t wait; he exploded forward like a cannonball.

He didn’t spar, he destroyed. He didn’t give his cousin a second to breathe. His fists crashed into Brian’s ribs, jaw, stomach. Brian managed to block a few hits, but Derek was faster, stronger, angrier. A knee to the gut sent Brian doubling over, and a brutal uppercut snapped his head back, spraying blood across the dirt.

Brian snarled and swung wild, catching Derek’s cheek, but the pain only fed the beast. Derek tackled him, pinning him to the earth, and began to pummel him.

.

Up in the study, Kira’s breath caught in her throat. Horror twisted in her stomach as she watched the man she had married turn into something feral and unrecognisable. Unable to watch another second, she slammed the blinds shut and bolted for the door.

"Enough! You’ll kill him!" Declan roared, grabbing Derek’s arm. Connor and three other gammas piled on, hauling the King back by sheer force of numbers.

Derek’s chest heaved, his eyes glowing a brilliant, lethal gold. Leo howled inside him, demanding more, more, more!

Brian coughed blood onto the ground, grinning through split lips and swollen eyes. "Still got it, cousin."

Derek shook off the hands holding him, turned, and stalked toward the tree line without a word.

Declan caught up to him in three strides. "We should go for a run. Now. Clear your head."

"Great idea," Derek ground out, his voice sounding more like a growl than human speech.

Clothes tore, bones snapped and reset, black fur rippled over skin as Leo burst free—massive, lethal and terrifying. Declan and Connor shifted in seconds, grey and russet beasts falling in beside him.

They bolted into the woods, paws thundering against the earth, leaving a stunned silence in their wake.