Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 55

**Chapter 55**

Roana,

How could they possibly know I was a silver wolf just by glancing at my scar? The way he blurted it out was unsettling, as if he had rehearsed this moment a thousand times. A knot twisted in my stomach, a mix of dread and confusion.

I turned my gaze back to the grill, my fingers gripping the edge of the table with a fierce intensity. My heart raced as I scanned the faces around me, suspicion coursing through my veins like ice. Whispers had always floated around about my true lineage, insinuating that my parents might not be my biological ones. Yet, the thought of undergoing a DNA test had never crossed my mind. I had always dismissed it as just idle gossip, but now, faced with the reality of their knowledge, I felt the ground beneath me shift.

“Who is your Alpha?” I inquired, striving to keep my tone steady and composed. Perhaps I could flip the script and extract some vital information from them.

He seemed momentarily taken aback, clearly not anticipating my question. After all, he was the one who had initiated this unsettling conversation. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that any words spilling from his mouth could be laced with deceit.

He exchanged glances with the other two before responding. “Alpha Burningowl of the RedFlame Wolf Pack in the South Eastern Coast Area.”

As soon as that name left his lips, my muscles tensed involuntarily. My mind froze for a heartbeat before it surged into overdrive, desperately trying to process the implications of what he had just revealed. Alpha Burningowl was not merely a casual acquaintance of Cassian; he was one of Cassian’s most trusted allies, a man whose loyalty was unwavering.

Moreover, the RedFlame Wolf Pack didn’t even reside in the South Eastern Coast Area. That pack was situated adjacent to the Royal Territory, intricately woven into Cassian’s affairs. The very thought sent a shiver down my spine.

To complicate matters further, Burningowl was not a silver wolf. His beast was a stunning, supreme gray wolf, a creature that bore the bloodline of pure Alpha.

The realization that these three individuals possessed knowledge about my wolf, my childhood scar, and were attempting to weaponize it against me was chilling. It could only mean one thing: someone had deliberately fed them this information.

For a fleeting moment, I entertained the idea that they might mention a pack from the Northern Region, perhaps even claiming I was the daughter of some infamous Alpha.

But one truth was glaringly evident. Someone was pulling strings from the shadows, someone who knew far too much about my life and was intent on manipulating my very identity.

Who could it be? My parents? No, while they were arrogant and self-absorbed, they weren’t foolish enough to defy the King. This puppet master had a detailed understanding of my life, and everything seemed meticulously orchestrated.

But why? Why now?

As I sat there, grappling with the weight of these revelations, I was oblivious to the movement behind me. The faint shuffle of boots was a warning I failed to heed until it was too late.

The sudden jolt of pain as a blow landed on my left shoulder caused me to gasp, a surge of agony radiating through me like a bolt of lightning. My knees buckled, and I felt the wound from the earlier gunshot reopen, warm blood cascading down my arm.

“Bitch!” the man at the grill spat, his claws extending ominously in the dim light. “As expected, Boss was right. You were the woman Cassian married.”

Clutching my shoulder, I turned to face them, warmth pooling on my sleeve. The realization hit me hard; they had been stalling me, pretending to engage in conversation merely to buy time. Inside my mind, Rye howled with fury, her anger pressing against my skull. She despised cowardice.

Someone had studied me meticulously—my wounds, my scars, my history. Such precision could only mean one thing: they were not random rogues. They were pawns in a larger game, working for someone with a sinister agenda.

**Chapter 55**

“Don’t you think you’ll regret that?” I managed to say, forcing myself to straighten even as the pain radiated through my shoulder. My jaw clenched tightly, and I fought to remain still, even as the throbbing sensation threatened to cloud my vision.

“Regret?” They erupted into laughter, their voices sharp and mocking, slicing through the tension. “You’ll regret ever raising your hand against us, you damn bitch!”

I attempted to move, but the pain surged like wildfire, spreading rapidly. My left shoulder felt like a lead weight with each heartbeat, blood seeping steadily, and my fingers tinged with numbness.

“They poisoned us,” Rye hissed, her voice quaking with rage.

“Seems like you realized that now!” the man by the grill taunted, advancing closer. His cruel smirk twisted my stomach. “The bullet may have passed through your skin, but the poison is still inside. It takes about three hours to take effect. Just enough time to ensure you don’t escape.”

His laughter grated against my nerves, a sound that sent chills down my spine.

“So,” I forced out, struggling to draw breath, “you’re saying I’m going to die now?”

“Well, not just yet.” His grin widened, dark satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Not until we get what we want. A little revenge for what you did to us. And maybe…” His gaze slid down my body, making my skin crawl. “Maybe a last-minute pleasure before you die.”

The implication behind his words made my stomach twist in revulsion. Rye’s growl reverberated through my mind, a violent storm of fury. My body quaked, not from fear, but from the pain and the heat building beneath my skin. The poison was spreading rapidly, and my left hand had already turned heavy and useless.

“Fine,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, struggling to maintain my composure. “Before you kill me, at least tell me who informed you about my scar. How did you know I was a silver wolf?”

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