CHAPTER 13

CHLOERENDIA

I stood before the mess my father was creating. His eyes burned with an otherworldly rage as he destroyed everything within reach. That's why I kept my distance. No way was I letting him leave a mark on my flawless skin.

"You'll pay for this, Layla!" Father yelled, his voice cracking with rage. "You'll regret the day you crossed me, you ungrateful little wretch!"

My eyes were glued to him as he turned his study into complete shambles. Shattered glass sparkled like a thousand tiny knives on the floor, splintered wood from furniture scattered everywhere, and papers danced in the air like confetti in a tornado. Everything was a mess.

"This was supposed to be my day," I muttered through gritted teeth. "The day I would finally get rid of that eyesore. The day news of her passing would spread throughout the pack." But as usual, Layla had ruined everything by getting hold of that cursed pendant!

The moonlight Serenity was what father called it. It had been his holy grail for decades but Layla had found it, leaving me to deal with this madness.

Lost in my thoughts, I barely dodged the vase Father hurled my way. It exploded on the wall, the sound echoing through the room like a crack of thunder. "I'll find her," he vowed, his voice low and menacing. "I'll find her, and I'll make her pay."

Isn't he too old for this.

"Father?" I called, my voice barely audible over the chaos.

He didn't respond, either oblivious to my presence or choosing to ignore me.

I groaned in frustration as I bit my finger, stifling my body from trembling. I was glad Layla was gone – she'd always been a thorn in my side, but who would father offer up as a bride to the Lycan King now with Layla gone? Me?!

I paced around the study, lost in thought, when a knock at the door broke the silence.

"Come in!" Father barked.

Jenkins, our butler, stepped inside and father sent another vase flying at him, but he dodged it with ease, not a hair out of place.

"We've found Layla, sir," Jenkins announced, his voice calm and collected.

Father's gaze snapped toward him. "Where is she?" he demanded, his hand tightening around another vase, poised to hurl it at any moment.

Jenkins hesitated, the pause hanging in the air like a dare.

"Spit it out!" Father growled.

Jenkins's expression remained impassive as he spoke. "She was sold at a slave auction... And the Lycan King was the one who purchased her."

The room fell silent.

Father plopped down in his favorite armchair. Without a word, he grabbed his pipe, packed it with tobacco, and lit up, the flame casting eerie shadows on his face. The sweet scent of smoke danced through my nose.

He was furious; I could feel it in my bones. I took a step back, but Jenkins stood firm, his back straight. "Shall I fetch something to calm you, sir?"

Father's glare could have incinerated steel, but Jenkins didn't flinch.

"A drink, perhaps?" Jenkins suggested, his tone soothing.

The room fell silent again, except for Father's ragged breathing.

Finally, he nodded curtly, his jaw clenched.

I exhaled the air I never knew I was holding in, my lungs burned.

Jenkins bowed and poured a whiskey, then he carefully handed it to father. He called out to the maids to discreetly tidy up the mess, their soft murmurs and gentle footsteps wasn't enough to smooth the tension in the room.

Father finally turned his attention to me, his eyes narrowing. "What are you doing there, standing like a statue?" he snapped, taking a drink from his glass.

"You called for me," I replied, trying my best to keep my voice steady.

"Then you can leave. I have no use for you." he growled, and relief washed over me.

With a bow, I walked out of his study, my heart pounding in my chest as the door slowly creaked shut behind me.

As I walked down the hallway, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Layla was gone, a nuisance no more. But the thought of the Lycan King also filled me with dread. He was a ruthless ruler, known for his brutal tactics and insatiable hunger for power. Layla was surely in for a world of pain.

I tried to shake off the unsettling thoughts as I entered my room. The luxurious furnishings and ornate decorations were a stark contrast to the chaos that had engulfed my father's study. I sank onto my bed, lost in my thoughts.

With Layla gone, I was now the sole potential bride for the alpha of the neighboring pack. The wheels were in motion, and everything was unfolding as it should. A shiver ran down my spine as I contemplated the possibility of ruling our pack altogether, especially with Edgar out of the way. My heart quickened at the prospect, and a sly smile spread across my face.

Then suddenly, a knock on my door broke the silence. "Who is it?" I called out, my voice laced with irritation.

"It's Niam, milady," my maid's voice replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Eirlys is here to see you."

"What does she want?" I asked, my annoyance growing. Eirlys was another nuisance in my life, always eager to gossip and pry into my affairs.

"She says she has important news, milady," Niam replied.

"Important news? More likely, she's just bored and wants to gossip," I muttered to myself.

"Tell her to wait," I ordered, turning back to my thoughts.

Niam hesitated, her voice trembling slightly. "But milady, she said it was urgent."

"Urgent?" I scoffed. "Niam, I'm busy. If it's truly important, she can wait."

Niam let out a weary sigh, her tone heavy with exhaustion. "As you wish, milady."

I heard her footsteps retreat down the hallway, and my moment of peace and quiet returned. But the thought of Eirlys and her "important news" lingered in my mind. Perhaps I should see what she has to say. After all, it couldn't hurt.

With a sigh, I got up from my bed and headed towards the door. As I opened it, Eirlys was standing there, her eyes wide with excitement. I recoiled, startled, my heart skipping a beat. "What are you doing in front of my door!" I yelled.

"You told me to wait."

"Not right in front of my door…" I growled, heaving out a heavy sigh as I rubbed my wrinkled forehead, my brow furrowed in annoyance. "This better be good."

"It is! You won't believe what I just heard," she gushed, her voice barely above a whisper but bursting with excitement.

"What is it, Eirlys?" I asked, my curiosity slightly piqued despite my annoyance.

"It's about Layla," she replied, her voice dropping to a whisper. "She's been captured by a rival pack."

My face twisted into a deep frown, and rage coursed through me; I barely resisted the urge to punch her.

"It's not a rival pack, but..." I groaned, wondering why I was even explaining it to her. "Is that all?" I asked, staring at her as she continued to spew more baseless claims. Her hair, a frizzy mess of brown curls, bounced around as she spoke. Her voice, high-pitched and squeaky, grated on my nerves. And her constant nodding, a habit she'd picked up from her mother, was particularly annoying.

"And so, they're holding her captive until the alpha of our pack agrees to their demands," Eirlys concluded, her eyes wide with excitement.

"And what are these demands?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"They want a ransom, Chloe," Eirlys replied, her voice dropping to a whisper. "A hefty one."

"Of course they do," I muttered sarcastically. "An outrageous sum for a worthless werewolf?"

Eirlys's expression fell. "Chloe… She's your sister."

"Sister?" I repeated, my voice filled with contempt. "Hardly. Layla was nothing more than a nuisance."

Eirlys sighed. "I just feel sorry for her."

"You're a fool, Eirlys," I replied, dismissing her concerns. "Layla deserves whatever she gets."

Layla deserves every ounce of torment the Lycan king has in store for her.

I slammed my door shut, leaving Eirlys standing alone, and walked towards my bed. Layla had been a thorn in my side for far too long, and now she was finally gone. I felt no regret, no remorse.