Chapter 149: The Prince's Gambit

King Andras watched the press conference when his son, Damon, burst in, blood dripping from his claws. The conference was winding down; Sinclair was thanking the press for their support and apologizing for his deception. He then called for action against the Prince, claiming the united packs' fate was at stake if the Alpha Council didn't act.

"You idiot," Andras growled, switching off the television. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I took bad advice, but it's dealt with now," Damon replied snidely. "I got rid of that bitch once and for all."

"That's what you get for taking advice from a woman," the King grumbled. "And your incompetence has cost our family the crown!"

"Me!" Damon exclaimed. "You're the one being removed! I'm only in this position because you were too weak to fight the council and expected me to save your ass and the family legacy! You weren't even going to let me rule if I won! You expected me to be your fucking puppet!"

"Because you lack the qualities of a leader!" King Andras shouted. "You think violence solves everything! You act without thinking, taking strategy from a traitorous whore with more cunning than common sense!"

"Oh, like you're so different!" the Prince scoffed cruelly. "You stole the crown the same way I tried to. If you want to blame someone for my mistakes, look in the damned mirror!"

He charged towards his father, rage flushing his face. "I knew when to strike and who to target. I didn't go after an innocent she-wolf; I went after my enemy and succeeded because I planned for every contingency. I didn't kill Henry Sinclair impulsively, causing collateral damage! I didn't risk citizens' lives or align with extremists! I didn't commit treason! I made a strategic strike and eliminated the competition. It's not about morality, it's about using your head, Damon!"

"Then tell me how we get out of this without extreme action!" Damon shouted, livid at his father's lack of support.

King Andras shook his head. "There's no getting out of this. The damage is done, and if you think the council will overlook your treachery, you're delusional. Your only option is to flee before they arrest you."

"Run, go into exile?" Damon spat. "That's your grand plan? You don't care that Sinclair will become King? That our family will lose everything?"

"Of course I care, you insolent pup," Andras snarled. "But a good Alpha knows when they're beaten, and we are."

"Not if we gather the royal army," Damon insisted, stamping his foot. "We could overthrow the Alpha Council and Sinclair. Without their interference, our power would be limitless. No more diplomacy, just total authority."

"Total tyranny," King Andras replied, sitting down, shocked. "You're suggesting we undo years of peace, throw out the constitution, and create an empire ruled by your greed?"

The horror in his eyes was evident. "In all my years where did I go so wrong with you?"

"So you'd rather surrender and accept defeat? Pathetic," Damon derided. "Clearly, the council was right to unseat you. You lack the will to fight, to defend what's rightfully yours!"

"Maybe you're right," Andras grimaced, overwhelmed by his failure. "Because, God help me, I'm rooting for Sinclair. If the only alternative to my rule is yours or his, I choose him."

"No!" Damon roared. "It isn't fair! I'm your heir! The throne is mine! He can't have it, and I won't run!"

"You have no choice. You made your bed," Andras declared firmly. "I won't protect you from the consequences, Damon. You are no longer my son."

The king sat back, reeling from the conversation. He'd known Damon wasn't fit to be king, but he hadn't realized how unhinged he was. He thought he could control and teach him, but it was impossible.

He never imagined his son would turn violent against him, but that's exactly what happened. While Andras sat there, Damon shifted, sinking his fangs into his father's throat before the King could react. The king was dead instantly. Shifting back, Damon spat out blood, wiping his mouth. "Now you're no longer my father," he said with smug triumph.

He quickly changed clothes and found his beta. "Announce that Sinclair killed the king, and dispose of the body," he ordered. "Don't announce it until the scene is clean."

"Then mobilize the Royal Army. If they question my authority, tell them I'm the heir and the United Packs are under attack. Tell them insubordination is punishable by death I also need poison."

Damon, recognizing Lydia's tactics' effectiveness, decided to use poison. The average soldier wouldn't match the Alphas, but the leaders wouldn't expect poisoning.

"We have to eliminate the Alpha Council. Find the most potent poison and send a team to their chambers—they're likely meeting to discuss Sinclair's accusations. Slip the poison into their coffee before the servants arrive."

"But if we poison the council, why do we need the army?" his beta asked.

"The army is for Sinclair," Damon explained through gritted teeth.

"But isn't Sinclair on the council?"

"Yes, but he won't be present if they're discussing his accusations—conflict of interest. We'll attack him separately, and we need all the soldiers we can muster. Once he's gone, the army will quell unrest."

"Damon, are you sure? You're talking about a full-blown coup."

Damon rolled his eyes. "I just killed my father. Do I care about the Alpha Council or peasants?" He demanded, "We have a huge task ahead, and I need your loyalty. If you're not with me, I'll find someone who is."

"I'm with you," the beta promised, fear evident in his eyes.

"Good. Tomorrow, we'll be the most powerful men on the continent. The world will be at our feet. First the Alpha Council, then Sinclair." He looked out over Moon Valley with a cold, rapacious gaze.