Lucien

I had painted the same pair of eyes twelve times today alone and countless times for a month now. The rest of the face never stayed the same. The nose changed, the lips blurred, the jawline shifted every time my brush touched the canvas. But the eyes remained clear in my mind.

A strange color, eyes bluer than the ocean, I stared at the painting in front of me, irritation crawling under my skin. I knew those eyes, I had seen them somewhere but I just couldn’t remember where I had seen them.

I dipped my brush into the paint again, dragging a careful stroke along the curve of the cheek. It didn’t look right but I don’t know and can’t remember. All I know is, she is a woman, just like the others I have fucked but this one is unforgettable.

I exhaled slowly and dropped the brush on the table, the door to my study opened. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“Still painting her?” Abel asked as he stepped inside.

My Beta stopped beside the desk, his eyes moving over the scattered canvases leaning against the wall. “How long are you going to keep painting a face you don’t even remember?” he asked.

“As long as it keeps me sane,” I replied calmly.

Abel smirked and leaned casually against the desk. “It’s funny,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “The face keeps changing every time. That lip—looks too big. Did she get Botox?” He laughed softly.

I leaned back in my chair, studying the painting again. They called me the mad king because they didn’t understand the curse. Every woman I touched disappeared from my memory the moment the night ended. Names, faces, voices gone. My mate had made sure of that before she died and that I will never truly be happy.

But these eyes refused to fade, I rubbed my temple. “I remember these eyes clearly,” I muttered.

“But you can’t remember her face or where you met her?” Abel asked.

“I don’t know.”

Abel shook his head. “She might be one of the women you murdered, her ghost must be hunting you.”

I didn’t respond, having a serious conversation with Abel is pointless, his brain rarely works except during wars.

“Not sorry that my presence is not comforting, I didn’t come here to discuss your mysterious woman,” he said. “My sources sent word.”

My attention shifted to him immediately. “What is it?”

Abel’s expression hardened. “Your brother has been meeting with members of the council. Secretly.”

I stared at him for a moment before my gaze drifted back to the unfinished painting. Ryker had always been ambitious, too ambitious, the reason why he rose against me, divided the kingdom into two and still wants to be the king of both kingdoms.

“Where?” I asked.

“Different places each time,” Abel said. “They are careful.”

A faint smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. “Let them meet,” I said.

Abel frowned. “You are not going to stop them?”

I leaned back in my chair, my eyes resting on the painted eyes again. “No.” My voice was calm. “If my brother is gathering snakes…” I tapped the table lightly. “I’d rather see the whole nest before I burn it.”

There’s a reason I am king, and not Ryker. He keeps scheming, but I will always be one step ahead. I smirked, feeling the familiar thrill coil in my chest. “What I am more interested in,” I said, “is raiding the Black Blood pack tonight. Their Alpha thinks he’s clever but tonight, I will show him who truly rules.”

Abel’s grin widened, bright and fierce. He loved the sound of war more than anything else. “I’m in. I will go prepare the men. Thank goddess—his cup is finally full,” he said, practically vibrating with excitement.

Hours later, Parts of the Black Blood pack’s compound were reduced to rubble, the rest scorched and smoking.

We had killed their Alpha. Twenty little girls, terrified and shivering, now huddled behind my men, alive, unharmed, safe for the first time in their lives. Their Alpha had been cruel, monstrous even, and his pack had been no better. Only a few loyalists had stayed to fight; the rest had fled into the shadows like cowards.

The girls were going to be trafficked to Ryker and he was going to use everyone of them as his breeder, a way to grow his kingdom.

I was about to signal we leave when a faint sound drew my attention, a door creaking in a small corner flat, half-hidden behind a boarded-up shop.

I stopped, “Hold,” I ordered, my voice cutting through the murmurs of my men. Every one of them froze immediately. I stepped forward, my hand resting lightly on the pistol at my hip. “Check that flat,” I said. “No one leaves tonight.”

Abel, my Beta, moved forward beside me, calm and silent, his eyes sharp. The others fanned out around the building, guns ready, covering every possible exit.

Abel’s voice cut through the quiet night, firm and commanding. “Come out now or we burn this building to the ground.”

The door opened slowly and two women stepped into the dim light, hands raised in surrender. Their clothes were torn, faces streaked with dirt and fear.

Abel’s tone didn’t soften. “Kneel. In front of the king.”

They obeyed instantly, I stepped forward. “Raise your heads,” I said, voice low, deliberate, leaving no room for hesitation.

I waited, watching the two women as they knelt, heads raised as I commanded. Their fear was palpable, every muscle tensed like a wire ready to snap.

A knife appeared, small but deadly, and her lips moved, chanting a rapid incantation I didn’t recognize.

Then she screamed. “Ryker is my king and the only true king!”

“She—” Abel began, but it was already too late. She swung the knife toward me with deadly intent.

Abel’s rifle was up before anyone could blink. The shot rang out, precise and final. The woman collapsed instantly, the knife slipping from her fingers and clattering to the concrete.

I didn’t move, My gaze stayed on the second woman, cold, measured. Abel’s eyes flicked toward me briefly, a quick, questioning glance that passed between us like an unspoken warning. I followed his gaze and saw the other blonde woman, kneeling, trembling, but her eyes met mine, and my chest tightened, there was something hauntingly familiar in them.

I opened my mouth to warn Abel, to stop him, but he moved faster than I could react. His rifle rose, steady, aimed directly at her.

“Abel—wait!” I snapped, my voice slicing through the tension, but my words didn’t reach him in time.

The trigger clicked, the bullet fired.