Lycan King’s Nemesis

**ASHTON**

“They’re fucken the same!” I downed the third glass of Scotch for the evening as fury sizzled through my body at the thought of Gwendolyn. I was close to believing she was different, that perhaps, she wasn’t like Emma after all. And for the second time, I survived being fooled by the same breed of canines.

Indeed, I fell into her trap. Like I did to Emma.

Yesterday after I tried to persuade her not to go with my sister on the outing with her mate, I was certain she was going to agree. She wanted me. I knew that. I saw it in the way she looked at me, endured all the things I did to her, craving for my absolute acceptance. Unknown to me, she was a snake, cunningly toiling hard, waiting to strike at the right time.

It wasn’t up to an hour later, and I saw her leaving the palace dressed like a whore. One would think she was the one whose mate was taken out. That mutt even came to pick them. And I fucken saw the way he looked at her.

“Stupid rogue!” I squeezed the glass between my right palm so tight that it shattered, most of the scattered pieces embedding into my palm.

“Argh!” I bared my palm sharply so the tiny bits could fall off as I stood and staggered in the direction of the mantelpiece to pick up a napkin which I wrapped around my palm soaking up most of the blood.

When I unwrapped it, the pain was stifling combined with the discomfort Fang was creating inside of me, I was on the verge of going nuts.

I grabbed the bottle of scotch on my desk, uncorked it, and went back to my study restroom to take a bowl. When I came, I placed my palm inside it and poured the scotch on my palm.

“Arhk!” The pain was blinding. With my eyes shut, willing all my healing ability in, I heard a knock at the door which got my attention fast as Fangs whimpered, his ears perked up in anticipation.This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Come in,” I groaned, pushing the bowl away to the side as I flopped down on the chair, my injured hand thrust down the desk to be hidden away from my visitor.

“What did you do to her?” Abigail asked the minute she came in, her voice laced with irritation. “Must you always make her cry all the time?”

My senses were clouded with alcohol and I was going through not just emotional but physical pain and at this point, I could do harm to about anybody. Even though my sister.

“Get out.” That was the first thing I said. There was no room for argument. I was going to punish her thoroughly if she disobeyed me.

“You have really changed, Ashton.” She continued, unfazed. “What has come over you?”

With my head down, I was glaring at her hard, waiting for that word that would send me over the top. She of all people should know me better. Still, she doesn’t waste any opportunity to aggravate me. It has been like that since we were kids.

“Get. Out.” I swung my finger at the door and stood up. It was the hand that was injured so as I lifted it, blood dropped, getting her attention.

She covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes growing in size as she rounded the table, reaching me in a second. “What happened to you? How did you_” She halted as she took in the bottles scattered everywhere on the floor. “You… Ashton!”

I snatched my hand off and shifted away, my right hand pushing my hair away. “I want to be left alone.”

“Ashton, you need to fix whatever is going on with you. This is getting out of hand, please.” Her Iris turned cloudy as she spoke and it was not long after there was another knock at the door which she went to answer and came back with a first aid box.

“Sit down let me see that.” She ordered like my mother would do. I would have ignored her and insisted she left but the pain was worsening and because I was fuming, I couldn’t heal naturally. Plus, there appeared to be bits of glasses stuck in my skin I would need help pulling out.

Slowly she attended to it, finishing off by wrapping a bandage about it.

“You will need to rest, Ashton.” Gone was the former anger to be replaced by concern. Gently, she wiped the blood splattered all over my hand, and went ahead to clean out the table and shards on the floor. “Try to control your drinking habit. I must think it’s what makes you do most of the things you do.”

I didn’t say a word to her, choosing to pretend like I wasn’t hearing a word of what she was saying. Once she was done the place was back to its former clean state, and a maid came to remove all the dirt, leaving us by ourselves again. I wish she would go. I feel like the little one watching her do things I’m supposed to be doing to her. Seeing how she scolded me reminded me so much of my mother; the only person that can bend me against my will.

I was starting to worry over the knowledge that she hadn’t reached out to me since she moved to Bath. Knowing her, she would have a spy relaying to her every event from the palace and of course from me whom she assumed couldn’t function properly without her presence and was likely to fuck up at any time.

It’s not like I’m doing a great job proving her wrong, nevertheless, like I would like to think, she caused all this. If she had left me without trying to force marriage on me from the start, I would be alone and happy, still indulging in the sweetness of the ‘free-willed’ women of the brothels.

Merit won’t have come into my life and as for my mate, taking her out the first time would have been much easier.

But now…

“I’m going to leave now to check on Gwen again,” Abigail broke through my thoughts. “I do think you two should amend whatever it is, Ashton. Gwen is a very sweet person if only you get to know her.”

Seeing as I was not going to reply to her, she groaned and left.

I withdrew from my desk and went to sprawl across my couch, my hand behind my head as I stared at the ceiling, in wild reflection, this time striving to sift through the scene with Gwen. I recalled the fight, the way I acted and how she responded.

And no matter how I considered it, I found no wrong with the questions I asked. She was only pretending to be miserable to garner unnecessary sympathy to make it come off like I was the one in the wrong. That’s how they behave. Always playing the victim!

She accused me of taking sides with Merit and insisted she was my mistress which I have on diverse occasions denied. But, I asked her one question and she wouldn’t give me a clear answer.

Because I was right, and she was wrong.

That was why she cried wolf. Saying she was done.

Who is this Julian? How many other men should I be weary of? Tyler is my sister’s mate albeit, I am uncomfortable with the manner he looks at my mate. As a man, I know what those looks entailed. And truth be told, it made me shamefully uneasy, particularly as my mate liked him.

Why will she fucken encourage him if she was not attracted to him?

Did you see how she was dressed? All her curvy parts were literally a feast for any hungry eyes! Eyes that weren’t mine.

These presumptions raced in my head that I was unable to sleep throughout the night. By morning when I managed to shut my eyes for a bit, I was roused roughly by an incessant knock at the door.

I cursed, scratching my chin as I stumbled up from the couch. It felt like there was a contradictory meeting going on in my head, as a result of the bang I felt from my hangover. “Come in.”

It was Kora who came in. She seemed out of place. Well, she is always that way. Incompetent Dimwit! “Your Majesty,” she bent half over.

“What do you want?” I was still feeling sleepy and this was not how I needed my morning to go after yesterday’s troubles.

“It’s the Queen.”

Fangs whimpered, starting to wag his tail vigorously.

“What about her?” I hissed.

“S-S-She has gone missing, your Majesty.”

Sleep disappeared from my eyes as I stood up abruptly. “What did you say?” I looked about, grabbing my shirt which I had discarded sometime in the middle of the night to shrug on.

“I-I didn’t find her in her room this morning, Your Majesty. And when I opened the drawer, I discovered some of her properties missing. Something tells me she_”

I was out the door without letting her finish.

…