The Lycan King's Healer

#Chapter 5: A Ferocious Pup

Aldrich

“You said your father is dead!” I exclaimed to the boy. He shrugged, sinking away.

Cathy whipped her head around to me, a dangerous warning in her eyes. She then looked down to Theo. “I told you not to talk to strangers,” she reprimanded him coldly.

“Mommy, I was wrong,” he murmured, “please don’t be angry.”

This was a different child than the one I found hanging from the hole, rebellion and panic on his face. This was a boy who truly adored his mother, guilt replacing that rebellion.

She knew that. I watched her delicately run her fingers through the boy’s hair, the same hair as mine. He was still dirty, and she was brushing away fragments of the wall from his scalp.

“It is none of your business who his father is,” Cathy growled, weaving her fingers in his hair, “do not yell at my son.”

“Tell me, which bastard is the child’s father then, if he’s not mine? How dare you have s*x with another man!” I demanded, anger fully encompassing my voice. I couldn’t contain it, not even in front of the boy.

Cathy turned from the boy and carried out the threat that was formerly in her eyes, raising a hand.

It came down across my face, hard.

I heard my servants gasp behind me, knowing any guards of mine would haveslaughtered the woman right then and there. General of my pack, a god of war, being slapped by a peasant woman who liked to grow flowers.

I felt the imprint of her hand on my cheek, my face flushing red with anger and embarrassment. Permission to be treated like this in front of my servants was not a good look. I had to tend to the wound upon my image of a tough army general. How dare she compromise that?

“You crazy woman, how dare you hit me!” My anger showed in my voice, crackling and sparking like fire, slowly morphing into fury. She should have been grateful I did not imprison her somewhere else on the spot!

I started to consider it, a growl escaping my lips.

She matched my stance, no longer the scared and skittish woman I locked away. “I will hit you if I want to. If you don’t leave, I will do it again.”

I scoffed, “You act as if you own this residence. I hate to remind you, blondie, that it’s my property. No matter how many flowers you’ve decided to plant.” I took a hanging rose and destroyed it in my palm, the petals floating onto the floor.

She didn’t react, her face turning to stone. Her face remained calm, but she stepped closer. I saw her jut her fingers out, preparing to do something. Before she could, I grabbed her thin in midair, glaring at her.

“You’re good at destroying things,” was all she said in a dark murmur.

“Don’t bully my mommy!”

I looked down to find the boy stationed in front me, guarding his mother with his little arm. He glared.

“Theo, go to your room.”

“No, mommy! I’m a big boy now,” he ordered, still separating me from his mother. “I can protect you. Don’t be afraid–I will beat up the bad guy who bullies you!”

The boy bent down and grabbed a stick from one of the plants. He crouched down in a defensive stance and growled at me like a small beast, an angry puppy while waving the stick up at me. His eyes were no longer admiring, but threatening as he could manage.

“Whoever bullies my mommy is my enemy! I will fight you to the death!”

The servants behind me murmured in unison of pity for the boy, and I heard some even ask me not to harm them.

I only stared at the boy. Stick jutted outward, sweeping his long hair out of his eyes, nostrils flaring, I saw myself even more in him. My temper immediately softened at the sight of him.

But I had no proof that he was mine. Clearly, his mother would not allow investigation, either.

I took one long somber look at the boy before leaving the cottage without a word.

***

Celebration raged at the palace. My return was an event at home; late night revels and dancing and drinking carried on through the night, fireworks decorating the sky in bursting colors of pinks and golds. The King and Queen, my parents, tried to speak with me after a long awaited union, suitresses tried to dance with me, and the partygoers offered me luxurious drinks.

A princess of the village north of us was giving a valid attempt in snagging my attention, her attitude bold as the green gown she wore. But it only reminded me of a particular set of eyes.

“Dance with me?” she asked without any question in her tone, more of a demand. She must have been used to accepted requests; her confidence and boldness was unwavering.

I looked at her with unveiled disinterest, slightly curious to see if her boldness would lengthen. “I just returned from a four year war, and I’d prefer to sit. But thank you.”

She did not dare show a sliver of annoyance; she disappeared into the crowd without a word, despite my rude attitude. Disappointing. That was the thing I disliked most about it here. I got away with everything—war was the only thing that humbled me. Even the most bold and demanding of princesses sinked away at a shred of my rudeness.

The girl with the green eyes in the cottage was the first person to ever talk to me like that.

I retreated outside to the grand balcony, the thought of being around so many people admiring me making me nauseous.

The fireworks were still going, blasting into the sky like combusting jewels. As the sparks shimmered down in the sky, I wondered if Theodore had ever seen fireworks before. I sat outside the banquet alone, hip against the gilded railing. It was better this way.

A servant eventually offered me a flute of champagne, and I merely looked at him instead. “When was the boy born?”

“I’m sorry sir, but I know nothing of the child’s birth.”

I turned away from him. Staring into the sky, I connected Theodore’s name with the stars.

I had to know him. I had to know her, and what happened these past years.

Throughout the night, even as the revelers chanted and sang my name as if I was a folklore legend, I only thought about the woman who was my wife, and the boy that may be my son.