The Lycan King’s Mark (Nevara) by Tiffanie L. Campbell novel Chapter 87

Chapter 87 – Smoke and Mirrors

Nevara

Michelle’s hand hovered on the door handle, her body tense, spine straight. She looked like she couldn’t get out of the room fast enough.

But fate had other plans.

The door swung inward before she could open it, and Kael stepped through, eyebrows raised.

“Oh shit,” he said, blinking. “She’s awake?”

Thoren nodded from where he stood at my side. “Yeah. About five minutes after we thought she was gone for good.”

Kael’s

eyes locked onto mine, full of awe. “Damn, Nevara. That bond must’ve kicked in late.

But it worked.”

He grinned. “So you two are fully bonded now? Congratulations. Not exactly the romantic setup, but hey-”

He looked around, noting the tension thick enough to cut with a blade. His grin faded. “Why does everyone look like they’re one sarcastic comment away from ripping throats out?”

“Because,” I said tightly, “that bitch behind you is the reason I was taken.”

Kael blinked. “Michelle?”

I nodded sharply.

He glanced back at her, then at me, brow furrowing. “No. I don’t think that’s right.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I muttered, tossing back the blanket. “Here we go again.”

“I’m serious,” Kael said, raising his hands. “This is actually what I came here to tell Thoren.”

Everyone froze.

“I found the culprit.”

Thoren straightened. “Who?”

Kael stepped out into the hallway without another word.

Seconds later, he returned-dragging a young man in cuffs behind him,

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Hopkins.

My stomach dropped.

“What the hell is this?” Thoren demanded, stepping forward.

Kael gave Hopkins a shove and pushed him toward the foot of my bed. “Tell them what you told me.”

Hopkins kept his eyes on the floor.

“Start talking,” Thoren growled.

Kael folded his arms. “We found letters. Handwritten correspondence from Tobias. In Hopkins’ personal box. Hidden in a false bottom of his trunk in the barracks.”

Michelle looked shocked. “Letters?”

“Yeah,” Kael said. “It’s the only way rookies can communicate outside. They’re not allowed devices. No phones. No tablets. Builds discipline, they say.”

Nevara’s voice was tight. “I’m aware.”

Kael continued, “We intercepted the most recent reply. Confirmed the handwriting. Ink

matches. Even the scent-faint traces of wolfsbane.”

Thoren’s jaw clenched. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Kael nodded at Hopkins. “Tell them.”

Hopkins finally looked up-barely.

His lip curled in a sneer. “It means I worked alone. I wrote to Tobias. Told him her route. Her weaknesses. Her solo mission. Everything.”

I felt sick.

Thoren took two strides toward him. “Why?”

“Because,” Hopkins spat, “why the fuck should some low-class wolf-some outsider-get treated like royalty while the rest of us bust our asses? She lives in the palace while we’re sleeping six to a bunk and taking orders from a king who’s too busy banging his pet project to see what a joke this whole thing is.”

The words were barely out before Thoren had him by the throat.

In one fluid motion, he closed the distance, lifted him off the ground, and slammed him

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against the wall. Hopkins’ feet dangled inches above the floor.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” Thoren snarled, eyes burning gold. “You dare speak of my mate and your future queen like that again, and I’ll rip your tongue out before you even get the chance to beg.”

Hopkins struggled against his grip, gagging.

Thoren leaned closer, voice deadly calm.

“Do

you believe the future queen should live in a bunkhouse?” he hissed. “Among half-trained recruits? You think she doesn’t deserve comfort? Protection? The right to safety after nearly being raped and possibly killed by rogues?”

Kael stepped forward, but not to intervene-just to make sure no one else did.

Michelle looked pale, her hands clenched at her sides.

“Thoren,” I said softly. “Let him go.”

His eyes didn’t leave Hopkins. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

“I know,” I whispered. “But I do.”

That made him pause.

His grip loosened.

Hopkins dropped to the floor like dead weight, coughing and gasping for breath.

“I want him locked up,” Thoren growled. “Put him in the deep cells. No daylight. No contact. No chance to do more damage.”

Kael nodded. “Already cleared with the guards.”

Two warriors came in, dragging Hopkins to his feet.

Hopkins didn’t look at me.

Didn’t look at Thoren.

Just kept his head down, eyes dead, like he didn’t regret a single fucking word he’d said.

As they dragged him toward the door, I leaned forward, just enough that he’d hear me.

“You didn’t just betray me,” I said coldly. “You betrayed your king. Your kingdom. You’ll rot for

this.”

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His mouth twisted into something like a smirk-one final defiant flicker of his hate-before the guards yanked him out of sight.

The door slammed shut behind them.

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