Lycan Prince’s Secret Baby (Moonlit Forbidden Love #1)

Chapter 15

Kyle

I paced the living room of my childhood home. It was late, but I’d stopped in at my father’s house. It was right next door to the Council Chamber and granted an unobstructed view of the entrance to the cell block. My father still hadn’t left the Council Chambers, but I couldn’t risk lingering there any longer. He’d snapped at me yesterday evening when I’d stayed late. But it was the only way I could keep tabs on his movements.

Each of my footfalls echoed in the lofty room, the hardwood floorboards and whitewashed walls sparser than I remembered. I’d noticed that my father had replaced the suede couches with sleek leather ones. Now I realized that the soft green and orange rug that used to lie in the center of the room was gone—a homey touch that I supposed had been my mother’s choice. I hadn’t set foot in the living room since her wake three years ago.

I clenched my fists, then loosened them, trying to release the tension drumming through me. I’d grown increasingly aware of the likelihood that it was only a matter of time before my father’s patience wore out, and he went to Leah. I’d managed to dissuade him from torturing her to find out the whereabouts of the rebel Blood Moons, but I sensed that his mercy was fraying. The first thing my father had decreed after Leah had been taken to the cell was that I was forbidden to go there.

The memory of his voice, like the distant rumble of thunder, juddered through me. “You’re not to go down to that seductress. Do I make myself clear?” At the time, I’d been so thankful I had stopped my father in his tracks from hurting Leah, as I’d seen in the gleam in his eye, in the dangerous lilt of his tone, and the prowling stance of his body, that he meant to. I’d have agreed to anything at the time.

But weeks later, with only Mark to glean information about Leah, I was unraveling. My assistant had reported that Leah hadn’t said anything about the escaped Blood Moons despite the lack of food and confinement she endured for weeks.

My heart squeezed at the thought of her down in the cells. My wolf wanted to go to her. Some nights, I woke in a cold sweat from nightmares, where branches weighed down by snow clawed at me, a devastating scream ringing in my ears. The first few times I’d had the dream, I’d been so convinced it was a premonition of harm to Leah, I’d insisted Mark check on her. But each time, he returned with the assurance that she was all right. I’d concluded the nightmares were part of my wolf’s agony with his mate locked up and unable to protect her.

Of course, it wasn’t just my wolf that was in pain at Leah’s imprisonment. The sense of betrayal I felt after discovering the disturbed papers in the safe and the likelihood that she was the spy in our midst twisted my insides. Hadn’t I known she was deceitful when I first laid eyes on her? But her tender-hearted treatment of her pack and the hints of vulnerability she’d shown me stole past the walls I’d built.

More and more, my thoughts returned to the moments we’d spent together. I saw her determination as she challenged me about my feelings, forcing that tormented confession from me, and the way her mouth had hung open in astonishment. All of her reactions had seemed so genuine. The way she’d melted into my embrace that night felt real.

Just because she’s attracted to you doesn’t mean she’s not deceitful.

Plagued by these relentless thoughts, I heaved a sigh. It was another reason I’d come to my father’s house—to gather comfort because here I was surrounded by memories of my mother. I pottered around the shelves, examining old memorabilia—my mother’s pottery, bowls and cups she’d made, alongside my own childhood attempts at the craft.

Eventually, I pulled a family photo album down from the shelf. Dust motes swirled in the soft lamplight. I hadn’t looked at pictures of her in years. It had hurt too much after her loss. Judging from the thick dust on these, my father was the same. I stared down at a picture of her and Maria laughing together in the garden. A stab of loneliness seared through me as I shut the album, preparing to return it. But something caught my eye in the nook behind the stack.

I frowned, pulling out a notebook. It opened near the back, where a bookmark lay between its pages. A faint hint of jasmine—my mother’s perfume, drifted from the pages.

I closed my eyes, the floral scent wrapping around me as if she were here. Opening my eyes, I drank in my mom’s flowing script over the pages. It was my mother’s old diary. Part of me experienced a surge of guilt as I started to read her words. Yet, as I read, it was almost as if her reflective tone was filling the air, and I couldn’t stop reading.

“Reginald’s contempt toward our neighbors has left me feeling cold. I keep telling him that to live in harmony with the Blood Moons will bring its own rewards — trade, expertise, allies, but I fear that his greed for their territory runs too deep.”

My heart thumped at this insight. I clutched my necklace as if I were grasping my mom’s hand. The cold pendant, firm beneath my skin, told me to read on.

There was only one more entry after the one I’d already read on the other side of the bookmark.

“It’s as I feared. Reginald will seize their territory by force. I need to trust in my own decisions. I am Luna of our pack, and I have to believe that going behind his back for the sake of our people, for the sake of both of our packs, will be worth it. I have to believe that the peace and alliance I will broker will be worth the rift that will come between us as husband and wife.”

The silence hung heavily around me, seeming to smother the house. I had always believed my father supported my mother in the peace talks. That’s what he’d told me after Mom’s death when I’d been twenty-one. I was suddenly back in my university room, sitting on my bed, and pressing my mobile to my ear as my world fell apart, my father breaking the news of her death.

I rifled back through her diary entries, most of them filled with concerns about my father’s greed and ambitions toward the Blood Moons. Scowling, I knew I needed to hunt for more information.

Purpose pitched through me. I needed answers about what had happened. I glanced outside and saw the lights in the Council Chamber flicker off. My chest thrummed with urgency; my father was finally leaving the Council Chambers. I extinguished the lights in the living room to conceal my presence, straining to see if my father would head toward the cell block.

When I saw him moving this way, I ducked into the cupboard beneath the stairs.

He’d be back in a few minutes. I could wait all night if I had to to search his office for anything else that might shed light on the events around my mother’s death.

But when my father entered, he wasn’t alone.

“You need to keep Kyle on a shorter leash. You’ve given him too much freedom. He’s got ideas in his head,” Sam said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Shock whipped through me at overhearing Sam talking about me . I held my breath.

“I’ve been too lenient on him,” my father growled, frustration in his tone laced with something sharper. “Sometimes, he reminds me too much of Tamara.” The creak of leather told me he or Sam had sat down on the sofa.

The utterance of my mother’s name made my skin crawl. His tone lacked any softness, only coldness and anger.

The clink of glass and the slosh of liquid met my ears, and I envisioned Sam helping himself to my father’s best bourbon. The elder had a taste for the finer things.

“Hmm,” Sam mused. “I’m inclined to agree with you. The more he embraces these reforms, the closer he gets to following her path. Letting him develop these ideas could lead your pack back to where it was with Tamara—her authority overshadowing yours.”

A wave of understanding crashed over me. My mother had overshadowed my father in the pack. The pack had been willing to follow her ideals, and Reginald couldn’t bear losing control to her. My heart thudded, lurching with the sickening suspicion of how far he’d been willing to go to protect his power.

A gruff agreement came from my father. “I’d thought him going off to university would be beneficial—to distance him from her influence, you know? But sometimes, I fear he’s got too much of her in his blood.” Resentment simmered in his every word, and I fought to quell my anger.

I clenched my fists. Dreaming up those reforms was when I felt most alive because, not only was I improving others’ lives, but I did feel closer to my mother. I was barely breathing as I knew how vital it was to keep quiet now.

“He doesn’t respect the traditions of the pack,” Sam added, his tone full of contempt.

“Perhaps seeing how this Blood Moon has tricked him, he’ll have more respect for tradition and less softness for those we’ve conquered,” Reginald said, his voice full of arrogance.

Disgust roiled through me at his callousness— "those we’ve conquered.” My mother’s diary swirled in my mind, her reflections painfully clear about my father’s insatiable greed for the Blood Moon territory.

“I keep thinking about that day, Sam,” Reginald continued, his voice dropping into a solemn murmur. “When the Black Moon I bribed took her out successfully. Then, all I had to do was take out the Alpha and Beta. If only Roman hadn’t gotten away, this matter wouldn’t be hanging over us still.”

“Took her out successfully.” Bile coated my throat. A Black Moon. The Black Moon Pack was a notorious pack that thrived on plundering other pack lands, getting their resources from raids. He’d bribed a Black Moon to kill my mother. Then, he’d gone to kill the leaders of the Blood Moon Pack, pinning my mother’s murder on them to give him justification for declaring war and enslaving them.

The air in the cupboard felt stifling. But I forced myself to remain silent, the sheer magnitude of his words swallowing me. My father had said it like it was nothing. “Took her out.” The weight of this revelation left me quaking with rage.

My heart raced, understanding settling into my bones as I recognized how far my father’s ambition had led him and what he’d been willing to do to seize the Blood Moon lands. Reginald had eliminated the Blood Moon Alpha, alongside the Beta of the Blood Moon Pack—Leah’s father. Another stab of pain shot through me as I realized she and her people had been wronged by me and all of the Moonlight Pack.

“With some gentle persuasion, she’ll tell us Roman’s whereabouts,” Sam’s voice reached my ear, and I realized they were back to talking about Leah. “Tomorrow, let’s make her talk. Then we’ll put the past to bed where it belongs.”

Anger and hate seared through me, and it took everything to rein in my temper and remain hidden in the shadows of the cupboard. I thought of how I’d foolishly believed that my father had been motivated in his chasing down runaway Blood Moons by his need to avenge my mother’s death.

But my father’s determination to hunt down the rebel Blood Moons stemmed from his need to silence anyone who could reveal his cold-blooded crime. Roman, the Blood Moon Alpha’s son, had escaped and knew Reginald had framed the Blood Moons for our Luna’s murder.

Rage boiled through me, urging me to storm out of my hiding place and confront them. But now was not the time for recklessness. I lacked the necessary power to face my father directly. My first priority had to be protecting Leah from these monsters. They planned to torture her tomorrow. But I was determined she’d be long gone by then.

Thankfully, Sam soon left, and I heard my father’s tread going upstairs. I slipped out of the cupboard, each step calculated as I made my way out of the house. Then, I hurried as stealthily as I could to the cell block. I wouldn’t allow them to hurt Leah. If it came down to it, I would stand against my father by any means necessary.

As I stole down the cold, damp stairs, rounding the bottom, it was as if I’d had the breath knocked out of me. Ahead, the cell door hung ajar, and the cell was empty. My heart climbed into my throat, and fear raced through me. Had Sam taken her? But both he and my father had agreed that they’d interrogate Leah tomorrow.

I stepped into the cell block, the realization washing over me—she’d already escaped.

My chest felt too full, a dozen emotions swirling through me like a snowstorm. Memories of her warmth and the comfort of her presence twisted through me, tugging at the remnants of the bond we had shared, a mate bond muddied by my prejudice but real nonetheless.

The hatred I’d harbored was so desperately misplaced. I could almost hear her voice challenging me, “The Blood Moon tricked you. Otherwise, why else would

a noble Moonlight like you say what you did to a lowly slave like me?”

She’d urged me to confront my prejudice, but I’d allowed my father’s biases to poison my mind and cloud my judgment.

Glancing around, the dim light filtering through the barred window, all Leah had endured engulfed me. I’d failed to protect her from the very tyranny I despised. The weight of that realization settled on my shoulders. Yet, admiration sparked through me. Against all odds, she’d succeeded in escaping her enslavement. She was free of my father’s oppression, and I hoped she got far, far away from here—no matter the cost, even if it meant she was lost to me forever.