The Secret Heirs of the Lycan King (by Misha K) novel Chapter 74

**Title: When Midnight Winds Carry Secrets Toward Worlds Yet Unknown**

As Joseph’s figure receded into the shadows, a tidal wave of anguish crashed over me, engulfing every sense. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing my fate in a suffocating silence. His footsteps faded, yet the haunting echo remained, a cruel reminder of my dire predicament. My body was a battlefield of pain, each pulse radiating from the wounds that marred my skin. I could feel the warm trickle of blood cascading down my back, mingling with the ropes that bound me to this cursed chair.

Time stretched infinitely, each second morphing into an eternity, as I fought against the rising tide of despair. My heart thudded violently in my chest, a chaotic symphony of fear and simmering rage. Suddenly, the door creaked open, and one of Joseph’s men strolled in, an air of casual indifference cloaking his demeanor. With a swift motion, he sliced through the ropes that held me captive, and I collapsed forward, my knees crashing against the unforgiving floor. Gasping for breath, I hunched over, the coldness of the tiles grounding me in the moment. I was alive, and that flicker of hope ignited a fire within me—a burning desire for vengeance that would not be extinguished.

With painstaking effort, I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling uncontrollably as I fumbled to unlock it. Each second felt like a lifetime, the weight of my desperation pressing down on me. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, I managed to dial the only person I could trust—Freddy, my dear nephew.

“I’m coming,” he whispered, his voice a lifeline in the darkness, reassuring me that help was on the way.

When he finally arrived, I was teetering on the brink of consciousness. He lifted me from the floor, half-dragging, half-supporting me as we stumbled toward the car. The drive home was a blur, a haze of pain and fear. I barely registered the scenery flying by, only remembering the moment I opened my eyes to find myself cocooned in the familiarity of my own bed, the sterile scent of antiseptic filling the air.

As I lay there, healing from the physical wounds, each breath reminded me of Joseph’s wrath and the torment I had endured. My mind raced, replaying the events that had led to this moment, all because of Bella. That seemingly insignificant woman had single-handedly unraveled a meticulously crafted plan that I had spent months perfecting.

“What’s the plan?” Freddy asked, entering my room with a look of concern etched across his face.

“Go to the villa,” I instructed, my voice steady despite the tempest brewing within. “Joseph wants the kids kidnapped.”

Freddy’s eyebrows shot up, surprise flickering across his features before he quickly masked it with determination. “Alright, I’ll handle it.” By dawn, he was already on the move, and I watched intently through the tiny camera clipped to his shirt, my heart racing as I observed every detail unfold.

He was a familiar face at the villa, exuding confidence as he strode into the kitchen, a warm smile illuminating his features as he approached the elderly cook. Producing a small box of chocolates from his pocket, he presented it like a royal gift. “These are from the King,” he declared in a friendly tone. “Especially for the children.” The unsuspecting cook accepted the chocolates with a grateful nod, completely oblivious to the sinister intentions behind the gesture.

Then, Freddy approached the butler, delivering the message I had crafted for him: “The kids and their nanny are to prepare for a trip to the Silver Mane Pack. King Scott demands their presence for their safety. I believe Miss Williams is with him. A car will come this evening to collect them. I’ll personally escort them.”

Through the camera, I watched the butler’s hesitation, confusion flickering across his face. Yet I knew he would not dare defy the King’s orders. Fear ruled his heart, and he chose silence over rebellion.

A small smile crept onto my lips. Everything was falling into place, just as I had envisioned.

As evening approached, Freddy returned to the villa, and I leaned closer to the screen, a sense of confidence swelling within me that the operation would proceed flawlessly.

However, as he entered, my heart plummeted. The children and Nancy were nowhere near ready to leave. No packed bags, no signs of preparation—only the sounds of laughter and the clattering of dinner being served.

“Why aren’t they ready? I told you to pack their things!” Freddy’s voice rose in frustration, panic creeping into his tone.

The butler’s expression hardened, his resolve solidifying. “I will not send them anywhere unless I hear directly from the King. His Majesty always contacts me personally.”

“Are you insane?” Freddy snapped, frustration boiling over. “Those were the King’s orders! You better pack up, or I’ll have to take them forcibly!”

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