The Lycan King's Puppet-Chapter 67: Violence Vs Restraint

He hadn’t actually meant to say that, but he couldn’t control it. Nevertheless, it was the truth and violence only recognised the violent truth

What else would have compelled him to ever say such a thing? And she was wearing the dress he had requested for her the previous day.

It matched the black he was wearing perfectly. Too perfectly

And her hair... She was doing it differently. It exposed the soft skin of her nape to his view. She was standing close enough for him to smell every scent she had bathed with.

And his senses were incredibly heightened.

He jerked every time Aunt Adisa’s fork clattered on her plate. Even Uncle Casmere’s breathing was so loud.

Every sound was worse than amplified, forcing themselves on him with maddening intensity. Claire’s breathing had increased from the fast rhythm he had grown used to, to a rhythm that could only be matched by a speeding cheetah in an open savanna.

"May I be excused?" She asked curtly, her tone icy.

She stepped away from his side, putting distance between them.

Adisa glanced at him.

"What do you mean by wolfless, Yeren? Her father was the great black wolf of Loodswood and he-"

"My father is dead." Claire cut her off to say.

Yeren’s grip on his fork tightened, yet he said nothing. He couldn’t. Her being by his side brought him a certain sense of calm.

"No, you may not." He said after a while.

Casmere averted his gaze pretending to focus on his meal.

"Your Grace..." She began, ready to leave the table whether he consented or not.

His next action shocked her.

His hand beneath the table shot out and gripped her limp one.

Yeren felt her freeze beside him. She had not forgotten to wear her gloves, he noticed.

Claire darted a side glance at him.

There was no sign of tears in her eyes - for which he was grateful, but he couldn’t bring himself to apologize.

"Miss Stenly, I believe the wine-maker would like to have a word with you. As it is the King’s special day, you should serve special wine as well." Andon said, rising up from the table.

"This wine suits me just fine." Yeren said quietly.

Andon tilted his head, his lips curving with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

"Blood. Blood. Blood. Tear him to pieces. Tear them all to pieces." His Lycan kept saying in his head.

His hand was moving before he could think. Gritting his teeth, he held it below the table. The shaking didn’t stop.

It wasn’t planning on stopping.

Yeren’s grip on Claire’s hand loosened, but instead of gladly pulling her hand away, she held his hand.

"What is she doing? She rejected me! Make her go away, she rejected us." His Lycan growled.

"Are you alright, dear? Should we bring in the gifts we brought for you? Believe me, you’ll love them." Aunt Adisa said, also rising up from her seat.

"Help me, Andon. The maids here seem quite deaf to unfamiliar people such as myself." Adisa left the room on Andon’s arm.

Casmere turned to them. "Well, the instrumentalists that arrived with us should be in the ball room, Your Grace. Do join us for a dance when you... em finish your food." The older man’s gaze darted to Claire before he left as well.

Only Eliza remained.

"I’ve never known you to be rude, Yeren. Not even to a servant. Please tell me it’s not happening again."

What would he tell her? How would Claire react if she knew he had no control over his Lycan when it was unleashed.

"Join your father, Eliza. I want to be left in peace."

Eliza stood up, a pout on her pretty face.

"Fine. I’ll leave you alone. Come with me, Miss Stenly." She held out her hand.

Claire was still holding his hand.

"She stays with me."

Eliza glanced at Claire, raising a brow.

"I will remain with the King." He heard her say.

Eliza stared at her for a long time before she left the hall in a swish of long skirts.

"Claire-"

"I understand." She let his hand go.

"You don’t-"

"You made it very clear-"

"I didn’t... I didn’t want to-"

"Then who did? Your ghost? And, you were wrong about one thing - I have a family name."

"Don’t listen to whatever I say - it’s not me talking."

Her eyes widened.

"Then, who is talking to me?"

From her tone, it was clear she didn’t believe him.

Of course, she wouldn’t. No one expected the calm and composed King to become an uncontrollable madman at the sight of the blood moon.

Claire leaned forward and poured herself a goblet of wine.

"Terrible." She muttered in between gulps.

"Don’t drink anymore wine." He said when she made to pour a second time.

Her eyes met his. He finally saw the tears.

"Don’t feel bad. She deserves it for hurting us."

"Stop sending me beautiful dresses, some addressing me by my name, stop... stop treating me as anything other than a nameless servant."

Could he? 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Part of him wanted her to understand, while the other part was afraid of what she’d think of him when and if she knew.

And it was only going to.get worse. He could rip her neck off without realising it.

"Stay away from me then." He heard himself blurt out, pushing away from the table and leaving the hall.

He could feel her eyes on him as he left.

Servants were carrying a large wooden box into the room when he arrived at the ball room.

True to uncle Casmere’s words, a band of instrumentalists were playing a soft melody.

Elise looked at him, but quickly looked away when he met her gaze.

Andon walked up to her and asked her hand for a dance.

Casmere and his wife were already on the floor, waltzing and twirling to the tune.

"Join us, dear. It’s been so long since I was at a ball."

Eliza rolled her eyes at her mother’s words, provoking a grin from Andon.

He owed Andon an apology. And by the end of it all, he was sure he’d owe everyone he knew an apology.

"Thank you, but I do not have a partner, neither do I want to dance."

"Nonsense! Where is Miss Stenly?"

Claire walked in just then, her eyes puffy and bleary from crying.

"There she is!" Turning to her, Aunt Adisa said, "Please join the King ona dance."

Claire looked at him slowly.

If she kept looking at him that way...