Page 55 of Asking Fur Trouble

THIRTY-EIGHT

His eyes locked with hers as if searching for answers. His intense gaze sent warmth cascading down her spine. She knew she should let him make his own choices, but she couldn’t stand by while Kynon manipulated him with lies.

“There’s something you should know about Kynon,” she said, licking her suddenly dry lips. “I’ve been asking around—Emesyn and some of Oberon’s sources have been... illuminating.”

Charov’s eyebrow arched. “And what exactly have they illuminated?”

Bess shifted in her seat, the leather creaking beneath her. “Remember at the ball, how you mentioned Kynon’s hunger for power? It goes deeper than ambition. Apparently, he’s had his eye on your throne for years.”

“That’s hardly surprising,” Charov grunted, his thumb tracing circles on her hand.

“No, but this might be—he’s not the benevolent leader he pretends to be.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice though they were alone in the backseat. “Behind closed doors, he’s abusive to his staff, even his family. The public face of compassion? It’s all fabricated.”

Charov stiffened, his shoulders squaring. The bear inside him seemed to rise to the surface—not in a shift, but in the dangerous gleam that entered his eyes.

“Explain.”

“His household staff rotates constantly because he fires them for the smallest infractions. Sometimes worse.” Bess shuddered. “Emesyn’s cousin works there. She says he threw a solid gold paperweight at a maid for moving his desk items while cleaning.”

The temperature in the transport seemed to drop. Charov’s fingers tightened around hers.

“And Nya?” he asked, his voice deadly quiet.

Bess swallowed hard. “She wears high collars and long sleeves for a reason, according to several sources.”

A growl rumbled in Charov’s chest, vibrating through the space between them. The sound was primal and protective—entirely bear.

“If he’s put his hands on anyone—” His free hand clenched into a fist.

“That’s not all,” Bess continued. “The petition he mentioned? If it exists at all, it’s nowhere near as widespread as he implied. Oberon has connections throughout the territory, and no one’s heard anything substantial.”

Charov leaned back, his eyes flashing with something dangerous. The sophisticated royal veneer slipped, revealing the apex predator beneath.

“He’s manipulating you,” Bess concluded, her heart hammering. “Using your grief and uncertainty against you.”

“And you’re certain of this information?” His voice was controlled now, but barely.

“As certain as I can be without seeing it firsthand.”

His jaw set in a hard line. She watched the doubt cloud his eyes. His broad shoulders tensed beneath his tailored suit, and he shook his head with a skepticism that stung more than she expected.

“These are serious accusations, Bess.” His voice was silk over steel. “Kynon has been a trusted advisor to my family for years. My father considered him a close friend.”

Bess bit her lower lip, tasting the remnants of her berry-flavored lip balm. “I understand how it sounds?—”

“Do you?” Charov’s eyes narrowed, sending shivers down her spine despite the heat of his gaze. “You’ve been on Nova Aurora for mere weeks, and you’re accusing one of our most respected nobles of abuse and manipulation.”

The air between them crackled with tension. Bess’s heart hammered, but she refused to back down completely.

“I’m only sharing what I’ve heard,” she said softly. “But I get it—you’ve known him your whole life. Your father trusted him.”

His expression softened slightly, but the doubt remained. “Exactly. My father was an excellent judge of character.”

Bess recognized the insurmountable wall before her. Challenging Charov’s perception of his father’s judgment while he was still grieving would be cruel and futile.

“You’re right,” she conceded, squeezing his large hand. “Let’s drop it for now.”

Relief relaxed the hard lines of his jaw. He nodded once, the authoritative gesture of a man accustomed to having the final word. “Thank you.”

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