6. …dare you!

Camilla.

The heavy thud of Grandfather’s cane against the marble floor echoed like a war drum, shattering the tense silence of the foyer.

"I don't want that woman anywhere near my house," Grandfather repeated, his voice vibrating with the raw, ancient authority of a true Alpha King.

Beside Ragnar, Pamela let out a sharp, theatrical gasp. She immediately cowered, ducking behind Ragnar’s broad shoulders and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

"Ragnar, I'm scared," she whimpered, her sweet, fragile voice trembling with calculated terror. "Why is Lord Eric speaking to me like that? I haven't done anything wrong..."

Ragnar’s face flushed a deep, furious crimson. His chest heaved as he shifted his stance, shielding Pamela completely from Grandfather’s piercing golden gaze.

"That is enough, Grandfather!" Ragnar roared, his posture rigid with indignation. "You have no right to speak to Pamela like she is a criminal! She is the victim here! She almost lost her life today because of the pathetic, murderous creature you are so eagerly protecting!"

I stood by the parlor archway, the wool blanket clutched tightly over my chest, remaining utterly silent. Every harsh word Ragnar threw in my direction felt like a dull blade scraping against raw flesh, but I forced myself not to react. I watched him blindly defend the viper clinging to his back, completely oblivious to her deception.

Ragnar suddenly pointed a harsh, accusing finger straight at me, the gesture sharp and unmistakably hostile. His entire expression twisted with anger as his storm-gray eyes burned with pure venom, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that made every word he was about to utter feel like another deliberate attack.

“She is deceiving you!” he spat, his voice filled with bitter conviction.

He didn't even look away from me as he spoke, his accusing finger remaining firmly pointed in my direction.

“Look at her, Grandfather! She’s playing the silent, helpless victim, just like she always does.”

His lips curled slightly with contempt as he continued, his tone growing increasingly harsh.

He paused briefly, drawing in a breath before delivering his next accusation with even greater certainty.

“She ran to you because she knows she’s a snake! She knew she couldn't manipulate me anymore, so she came here to manipulate you!” he added firmly.

Each word dripped with accusation, his voice carrying the absolute certainty of someone who had already decided exactly what he believed about me.

He shook his head slightly, his expression remaining cold and unforgiving.

“She’s trying to use your pity to force her way back into my bed and my pack!”

The words hung heavily in the air, his accusation ringing with unmistakable hostility.

“Ragnar, hold your tongue—” Grandfather began.

His voice was dangerous and low, cutting into Ragnar's tirade with a quiet authority that immediately signaled his displeasure.

“No!” Ragnar interrupted sharply, cutting Grandfather off before he could finish.

He stepped closer, dragging Pamela along with him as though he were fighting some heroic war for her honor and had already convinced himself that he was the only one willing to expose the truth. His storm-gray eyes remained fixed on me, blazing with anger and accusation as his voice rose with every word.

“I will not hold my tongue!” he declared fiercely, refusing to be silenced or restrained. “She is the real snake in this family!”

His finger pointed accusingly in my direction again, his expression hardening with every accusation.

“She engineered the crash! She cut the lines, drove the car off the road, and tried to murder her own sister out of sheer, disgusting jealousy because she knew I never loved her!” His voice dripped with absolute contempt. “She is a liar, a murderer, and a—”

CRACK!

The sound tore through the vast hall like a lightning strike.

Grandfather had closed the distance in a blind blur of ancient speed, bringing his palm across Ragnar’s face with violent, unrelenting force. The sheer impact snapped Ragnar’s head to the side, cutting off his fiery tirade instantly.

Pamela let out a terrified shriek, stumbling backward, her delicate act dropping for a fraction of a second in sheer shock.

Ragnar froze. A thick, suffocating silence descended over the foyer. For a moment, my ex-husband simply stood there, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles twitched, his gray eyes wide with disbelief as he slowly raised a hand to touch his own reddening cheek.

No one had laid a hand on Alpha King Ragnar since he had taken the crown.

A dark, terrifying energy flared around Ragnar. His eyes bled from storm-gray to a lethal, primal crimson. The air in the room grew impossibly heavy, suffocating, as his pride, his rage, and his fractured ego imploded all at once.

He didn't hit Grandfather back. He couldn't—the instinctual reverence for the former King was too deeply ingrained.

Instead, his wild, blood-red eyes whipped toward me.

"This is your fault!" he snorted, losing every shred of his royal composure.

In a single, violent stride, Ragnar bypassed Grandfather entirely and lunged at me. Before I could even raise my hands to protect my face—or the fragile life inside my womb—his hand flew forward.

SMACK!

The force of the strike was devastating. My head snapped violently to the left, a sharp, white-hot explosion of pain bursting across my cheek.

The sheer power behind an Alpha's blow tore the blanket from my grasp and sent me flying sideways. My body hit the hard marble floor with a sickening thud, a sharp gasping cry tearing from my throat as I curled tightly into a ball to shield my stomach.

The taste of metallic copper instantly flooded my mouth.

Grandfather gasped, standing frozen in utter, paralyzed shock. He stared at his grandson, his face draining of all color, unable to fathom that the reigning Alpha King had just brutally struck a defenseless, injured woman right in front of him.

I lay on the cold floor, clutching my face, my vision swimming with tears of pain and shock.

Above the ringing in my ears, a dark, velvet baritone boomed from the top of the grand staircase, cold enough to freeze the blood in my veins.

"How dare you!”