Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 35

**Fireflies in Winter Rain — Neil A. Varma**

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The night stretched interminably, an oppressive blanket of darkness that seemed to swallow every hope of sleep. My chamber, dimly lit by the flickering flame of a solitary candle perched precariously on the windowsill, felt like a prison. The shadows cast by the candlelight danced erratically across the walls, echoing the chaos roiling within me. I sat at the polished wooden table, my fingers tracing mindlessly over its smooth surface, nails scraping against the wood as if seeking some form of release.

My breath was heavy, each inhale weighted down by a volatile cocktail of anger and helplessness.

Roana Milestones. Just the thought of her name sent a bitter taste curling on my tongue, a reminder of everything I had lost. She had no right to intrude upon our lives, no claim to the space she had audaciously seized. And yet, there she lay—unconscious and fragile, cradled in Cassian’s arms, like a delicate flower that had fallen from grace. His touch was tender, the kind of tenderness that stung like a wound reopening, and with every gentle caress, my heart twisted in agony.

Precious. That single word churned within me like acid, burning away the remnants of my composure. My sister was meant to be the one who held his affection, the one who mattered most. I had built my world around that belief, so how had he slipped away from my grasp so easily?

I watched him move past me, his arms enveloping Roana as if she were the most valuable treasure he had ever discovered. When I dared to question him, his voice was sharp, edged with irritation, slicing through the silence like a knife. The way he regarded me—his gaze filled with disdain as if I were nothing more than a bothersome fly—cut deeper than any physical wound I had ever endured. He had never spoken to me like that before she arrived. Never.

I pressed my lips together, the metallic taste of iron flooding my mouth as I fought to contain the rage simmering just beneath the surface. But I could not allow it to consume me—not yet. Not until I had devised a plan to dismantle her presence in our lives without leaving a single trace that could lead back to me.

Slow and steady would always be the wisest path.

Leaning forward, I examined the small vial resting in my palm. The liquid inside was clear, deceptively harmless at first glance. But I knew better; this was a concoction born from patience, intended for those who wished to extinguish lives gradually. A few drops wouldn’t bring about her immediate demise—no, that would be far too crude—but they would sap her strength, drain her vitality, and ultimately render her powerless. The perfect weapon against a wolf who fancied herself invincible.

Cassian would never suspect a thing. His trust in me was too profound, even if his anger had flared tonight. If I chose my words with care, he would believe me without question. And Roana—oh, Roana—she would never suspect me either. She carried herself with an air of superiority, believing she was above others. Her silence would be her undoing.

Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow.

Tomorrow I would greet her with a smile. Tomorrow I would feign kindness. And tomorrow, she would drink what I offered with willingness, each swallow betraying her body a little more.

A small, twisted smile crept across my lips in the dim glow of the candlelight.

I would be the gentle, kindhearted Carolyn that Cassian trusted. I would welcome his little prize until she vanished from our lives entirely. All I needed now was patience.

As the night dragged on, the first whispers of dawn began to stir through the hallways. I extinguished the candle, smoothed my hair, and prepared the mask I would wear for the day ahead.

Morning arrived, wrapped in a soft, golden light that filtered gently through the windows. I dressed in delicate hues—pale lavender woven with silver threads—an outward display of innocence and grace. When I looked into the mirror, the reflection staring back at me was not the Carolyn who had cursed Roana’s existence mere hours before. No, she was warm. She was kind. She was every bit the disarming presence I needed to be.

Stepping out, I let my footsteps fall lightly, each step measured and deliberate. The servants passed me with bowed heads, none daring to meet my gaze—they knew better.

In the dining hall, Cassian was already seated, his expression inscrutable as always. His presence loomed large, filling the room with a commanding energy. Still, I forced a gentle smile, my voice smooth and sweet as honey.

“Good morning, Cassian,” I said softly, the care in my tone carefully calibrated. “I thought perhaps today we might share breakfast together. All of us.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “All of us?”

“Yes,” I replied, tilting my head just enough to present an illusion of innocence. “Including Lady Roana. I think it would be… healing for all of us to sit together. She’s new here; she must feel so out of place. Perhaps if I extended my hand to her, she wouldn’t feel so alone.”

Cassian’s gaze lingered on me, a hint of suspicion flickering in his eyes for a brief moment before he nodded. “If she wishes to join. She’s feeling weak. I won’t force her to come downstairs.”

Perfect. “Then I’ll invite her and apologize for anything I’ve done so far. I realize now that it would be selfish if we didn’t consider your well-being as well.” I smiled brightly before turning to head upstairs.

Cassian’s brows furrowed, his deep golden eyes following me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

I found Roana in their bedroom, still weak and pale, though she sat upright. She looked exhausted, her eyes heavy with the weight of sleepless nights that had offered her no respite. Even in her frailty, there was a sharpness to her features that irritated me to my core. She did not deserve such resilience.

Softening my expression, I clasped my hands demurely before me, adopting the guise of a caring sister. “Your Highness,” I said gently, my voice dripping with false warmth, “I thought perhaps you might join us for breakfast this morning. Cassian will be there too. It would be good for you.”

Her lips parted slightly, brows knitting in confusion, but she remained silent, her face cold and distant.

“And—” I forced a look of regret, “I apologize for anything I’ve done. Please consider it foolish jealousy, and forgive me.”

For a moment, I feared she would refuse. Her silence stretched on, and I felt my nails dig into my palms. Then, finally, she gave a small, reluctant nod.

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