The Lycan King's Puppet-Chapter 102: Wolf or Not?

She burst out laughing at that point. It was either laugh... or cry. And crying wasn’t her best option. The genuine promise in his eyes made her weak in the knees.

She couldn’t trust him. Aurora’s life was on the line.

"I don’t believe you-"

He stepped even closer, filling the space between them with his aura and alluring scent.

"Then, I’m afraid I’ll have to send you to the dungeons, Miss Stenly."

Her throat worked. Dungeons? She couldn’t go to the dungeons, not now, not ever.

What could she even do?

Something moved in the shadows.

Yeren’s gaze snapped in that direction before she even noticed that anything had moved.

"Wait here for me. Don’t move."

Why would she even want to move?

He left her there, stalking quietly in the darkness.

Something sparked as metal hit metal. The sound of clashing swords was deafening.

Yeren wasn’t with a sword, was he?

The thought of him getting hurt because of her was...

Even if he could supposedly heal himself, she didn’t want him to risk his life for her - it was just unthinkable under all logical circumstances.

A woman’s scream cut through the sound of grazing metal.

Was it her? The woman who Uncle Jarren had sent?

Everything in her hoped it was that shameless woman.

"Don’t harm her." Yeren’s voice came through.

So... he wasn’t the one involved in the heated sword play? A wave of relief washed over her.

"Restrain her and take her to the dungeons."

"You’re making a mistake, Your Grace. You’ll regret this!"

It was definitely her, Claire thought with a small smirk.

Curiosity made her want to take a look.

But what did catching her mean? Was it a good thing or a bad thing? How would Jarren react when the news reached him? He’s probably expecting her to arrive with her abductor by noon or so the following day.

And there was no way in heaven or hell that she was going to ask Yeren to release the bloody woman from whatever cozy cell they planned to put her in.

But it all meant one thing - she had to tell him everything if she wanted to keep her sister alive. He was the only one that could help her at this point. If she let Jarren react first, it’d be ugly - he’d always had a terrible temper since she’d known him.

Yeren came back.

"Was that the person you came to meet?"

How did he...?

She turned her face away, mostly to hide the shame and surprise warring there.

He held her chin and forced her to look into his face.

"What did she want with you?"

She drew in a deep breath.

"My uncle wants me back."

Claire heard his breath hitch. "And you were willing to go? Like a lamb to the slaughter? Do you know how hard it was to get his claws off you the first time?"

The concern in his voice was apparent. Why then had he been acting so cold with her for the past day?

"Do you think I’ll willingly go back there?"

He stepped away, running his hand through his hair. "I think you will do anything to prove to me that I don’t control you."

Control her? Of course, he controlled her. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

And a large part of her foolishly liked it.

"That has nothing to do with it!" She couldn’t help raising her voice.

"Then, pray tell, what is it about?"

"My sister..." Her voice broke.

"What about your sister?"

She wished the tears burning behind her eyes were fake, but they weren’t. They stung her eyes, begging to be shed.

"It’s either me... or her. I don’t know what he intends to do to her..." Claire trailed off.

His next actions surprised her. Yeren pulled her against his bare chest. She wanted to pull away, afraid he’d regret his actions and become cold towards her.

"I’ll send a letter to the Capital tonight. I’ll arrange to have your sister heavily guarded... or brought here, if you would prefer her company."

Claire thought of how easily the woman had come into her room. Nowhere was safe.The problem wouldn’t be completely resolved by increasing the number of guards around her - if people like Maria roamed the palace freely, then Aurora still wasn’t safe.

"What’s bothering you now?"

She looked up at him, at where she believed his eyes were.

"The maids, the servants, none of them can be trusted. And your guards won’t be able to save Rory from them."

Yeren’s whole body tensed, but he didn’t seem surprised in the least.

"Spies. You can’t eradicate them, Miss Stenly. That’s how important people dig their nails into my private affairs."

Her blood ran cold.

"But they serve you food. They enter your private chambers, they prepare your bath... How can you be comfortable?"

Yeren rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I have private maids. I understand the system better than you ever could, Miss Stenly. They cannot betray their Alpha - except they want a death wish."

Something amongst what he said calmed her instantly. She wondered if he knew that he constantly ran the risk of being poisoned.

"It’s too cold out here. Let’s go inside."

Claire wanted to see the woman to make sure that the guards had caught the right person.

"I want to see the prisoner first."

"Go ahead. Gael would escort you." He said to a guard she hadn’t realized was with them.

She jerked in shock when the guard laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Bring her back to my chambers when she’s done. I need to send an urgent letter."

She watched him leave, still shirtless.

Gael, as he was called, guided her to where the woman was locked up, carrying a lighted fire torch from the sconce at the entrance.

Anytime she thought of the dungeons, she always imagined a place with large spiders, clogged with thick spider webs and reeking of human excrement and possible death.

He led her down a flight of stairs, reaching out to grasp her hand in his.

The calloused skin of his gloves rubbed against the soft skin of her hand almost painfully.

The stairs were endless. What was it with castles and unending stairs? She hated using them, but she had no choice.

They finally arrived at the landing, which was cooler than the air above.

If the shame didn’t kill a person, the cold definitely will, she thought with a shudder.

The firelight wavered dangerously as wind rumbled through the corridor.

Another guard stood there, holding a jiggling ring of keys.

"Don’t touch the bars, miss. They are made of silver." The man with the keys warned, opening the cell without even inquiring who they came to see.

Were they mind linking? What did it feel like to talk to a fellow wolf without having to actually talk?

"She’s not a wolf - I doubt it would bother her." Gael said, audibly this time, his voice muffled by the helmet he wore.

He sounded so sure, like he doubted the very possibility of her being a wolf. What if it burned her? Did she touch it?

She stepped inside the cell, ignoring the urge to do something rash. The smell of damp stone hit her first.

Someone sat by the wall at the corner, leaning heavily against it.

"You’ve come to gloat, haven’t you?"

Claire swallowed, unable to breathe properly.

"I came to make sure it was you." She turned around, her dress swishing around her ankles.

"You think you’ve won. I warned you. Expect your sister’s head come dawn if you don’t release me this instant!"

Words, she told herself, that’s all it was. The plump woman couldn’t do anything from the confines of the cell. And the news won’t reach Jarren this night - if at all it will.

As she walked away, the woman growled, struggling against her shackles. The sound made her jerk, clutching the bars to steady herself.

The burning was instant. It felt like the skin of her hands were on fire.

Claire pulled her hand back to her side instantly, struggling not to clench it as pain fired through it.

It still felt like it was burning after she pulled her hand away.

"Fetch the salve and salts!" The guard with the ring of keys instructed Gael as he reached for her hand.

Claire bit her lower lip to stop herself from crying. She had never felt such intense pain before. Tears threatened to spill once more.

Gael rushed away, his chainmail rumbling as he took the stairs two at a time.

"Breathe." The guard held her palm up to examine the damage. She refused to look - she didn’t want to know how bad it looked.

And it would be bad. Her beautiful hand.

"I warned you." His voice was low, but not condescending.

Claire could barely process his words. The sting still didn’t cease.

It wasn’t as if she’d been daring and careless - it was a mistake. The plump woman startled her.

Gael returned with the salve and sweet-smelling salts.

They had to hold her hand still before applying it.

Claire prepared herself for the intense pain, but all she felt was... cool relief. The salve worked magic on the burn, soothing it in ways she never thought was possible.

She looked down at her hand, it was a bit rough, but most signs of the scald had disappeared.

As he continued to rub it in soothing circles, her hand became smooth.

"What’s that?"

"It’s a healing salve - only for wolves."

Only for wolves?

Wait.

Did that mean she was a wolf as well?