Chapter 819
Chapter 819:
Dominic’s and Clayton’s expressions darkened as the same realization seemed to strike them, their faces etched with growing concern.
“Bring Evelyn here,” Dominic commanded the nearby soldiers, his voice sharp as winter frost.
The mention of Evelyn stirred memories of Anthea, threatening to cloud my judgment.
As if reading the conflict in my eyes, Dominic’s cold voice cut through my hesitation. “This questioning concerns Makenna’s safety. We cannot afford to overlook anything, regardless of past connections.”
Drawing a steadying breath, I nodded. Any lingering doubts melted away before the fierce need to protect Makenna.
We would stand as her shield against any threat, consequences be damned. The world itself could turn against us—our resolve would not waver.
Bryan’s POV:
Evelyn rushed toward us, her complexion ashen and still bearing the remnants of panic from the earlier banquet’s chaos.
Upon spotting us, she offered a tentative greeting. “Your Highnesses, do you require my presence? Has Makenna been found?”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed to slits, his voice dripping with frost as he asked, “You seem particularly invested in Makenna’s whereabouts.”
“I trained her personally,” Evelyn murmured, her gaze fixed on the floor as she released a weary sigh. “Not to mention pulling her from the lake that day. How could I not worry about her welfare?”
The memory of Evelyn’s asthma attack during Makenna’s rescue flashed through my mind, softening my edge slightly.
“What prompted you to propose this banquet to the king? And why the repeated warnings about the sex slaves becoming rogues if they failed to gain favor?”
𝖀𝗽𝗅𝗈𝖆𝖉 𝖙𝗋𝗮𝖈𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝗈 𝗀ⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⧉𝖼𝗈𝗆
A visible tremor ran through Evelyn’s frame, fear etching itself across her features as she hastily explained, “Your Highness, my role demands I ensure these women bear heirs for the Lycan royal family. Their prolonged failure to receive your attention… it compelled me to suggest the banquet to His Majesty.” She paused, shoulders slumping in apparent resignation. “Regarding the threats of banishment and becoming rogues—those were His Majesty’s words, not mine. I merely echoed them to instill urgency in the women, hoping it would drive them to earn your favor. I harbored no ulterior motives.”
“Are we to believe that?” Dominic’s skeptical gaze bored into Evelyn, weighted with suspicion.
The color drained from Evelyn’s face at Dominic’s skepticism, her knees buckling beneath her as she collapsed to the floor with a hollow thud.
“Your Highness,” she pleaded, her voice quavering, “I speak nothing but truth. May divine retribution strike me down in the most horrific manner should even a whisper of deceit pass my lips.”
Her fingers twisted desperately in the fabric of her garments. “My sole devotion lies with the Lycan royal family’s prosperity. My only wish is to see these slaves bear your heirs. Nothing more.”
She lifted her tear-streaked face, eyes swimming with desperation. “Consider this, I beg you—what power could a mere slip of a woman like myself hold over such a multitude of slaves?”
Though her defense appeared airtight, an insidious doubt crept through my mind, whispering that beneath this pristine surface lurked darker depths. Memories surfaced unbidden—heated confrontations with Makenna, each thread inexplicably leading back to Evelyn.
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