Page 177 of Savage Throne
Months ago, I had dreamed of this moment—a union between Lei and Monique to solidify the future of the East.
But now, watching him sit there with that smug expression, the ring on her finger and her undeniable allegiance to him, I wasn’t so sure.
I glared at him.
And I wasn’t feeling selfishness.
It wasn’t jealousy either.
It wasn’t even the sense of betrayal that Lei had bypassed me to orchestrate this on his own.
It was something deeper.
Something darker.
You don’t deserve her, son.
I had spent a long-time forging Monique’s path to becoming not just a weapon, but a queen who could stand tall at the side of her Mountain Master.
She deserved the best—not some boy playing at being king.
She deserved a man who had not only sat on the throne but hadbuiltit, carved it from blood, death, and fire.
I thought this would be the right thing, but I’ve been wrong this whole time.
I stared at him across the table, my son, my heir, and the ungrateful bastard who had taken what I had so painstakingly created. My legacy, my plans for the East, and now Monique—all of it was slipping through my fingers and Lei was to blame.
He had shifted the chessboard, and now, the only move left to preserve the game was to remove thefalseking.
The orchestra’s upbeat melody rose.
I stared at Monique’s hand and that cursed ring.
I straightened my spine, steeling my resolve. I had always known sacrifice was necessary for power. Blood was the currency of the throne, and tonight, it seemed, I would have to pay it again.
For the East.
For my legacy.
For Monique.
She needed a ruler, not a boy.
Someone who had built the throne, not someone still learning to sit on it.
Someone who had ruined our moment.
Someone who had invited outsiders to a private ceremony.
The realization struck me—the future I had so carefully built wasn’t crumbling—it was being stolen, piece by piece, by the very heir I had once trusted.
And I bet he fucked her on the ground. Idiot. She deserved better.
I had spent time sharpening Monique but now she was a blade in someone else’s hand, and that was a betrayal I could never forgive.
Had he let us have our moment, perhaps I would be more logical about this. Therefore, this is his fault, not mine.
Lei smirked. He thought he’d won, but he had no idea. And that smirk wasn’t just a challenge—it was a gauntlet thrown across the table, daring me to strike first.
