Lorcan & Evette

Chapter Fifty-Two

Claudio marched through the halls of the werewolf castle with a purpose, his footsteps echoing through the empty halls.

A member of the castle staff met him halfway, elated at the demon King's arrival.

"You came."

If the letter he'd received mere hours ago was anything to go by, then Claudio didn't have much of a choice. This was why immortals ought to be using phones. The Gods only knew how long it had taken that letter to reach him. In those few days, there was no saying how much the werewolf situation had worsened.

"Where is he?" Claudio demanded.

"In his office."

With the information he needed, Claudio doubled his pace.

Muscle memory didn't have to get him all the way. When the scent of booze hit his nose, finding the werewolf King came as no challenge. The sight on the other side of the door was one Claudio would never forget.

"Evie?" From the desk, the thoroughly sloshed werewolf King raised his head, staring at the door with hope. Disappointment soon returned. Seeing only Claudio, Lorcan's head slumped back to the wood. "Not Evie."

Claudio scrubbed a wearied hand over his face, then his horns.

So the letter hadn't been exaggerating.

The werewolf King was an absolute state. Empty bottles surrounded him. Papers floated all over the room. His stubble must've been days old, his hair sticking out all over the place. A wretched smell was coming from somewhere near the werewolf. The demon would bet his life the bin had been repurposed as a sick bucket.

Head back on the desk, the werewolf's hand toyed with a glass at his side.

He was still drinking. Drinking himself into oblivion.

Claudio had never seen him like this before.

"Fuck me Lorcan, what's happened to you?"

The wolf groaned, trying and failing to lift his head back up. He contented himself to life facing his desk.

"I've fucked it."

His words were sloppy, voice drowsy.

"Where's Evette?"

"Like you don't fucking know."

The letter had told Claudio pretty much everything he needed to know.

The head of the castle staff had reported that the Mistress of the future was no longer in the castle. Since her departure, the werewolf hadn't left his office. He'd spent the week slowly making his way through his drinks cabinet.

"That's why you're here?" Lorcan grumbled unintelligibly. "To tell me I fucked up. Don't you think I fucking know?"

Liquid in his glass sloshing over the rim, the werewolf slammed his face into his desk repeatedly.

"You let her leave?" Claudio asked. That had to be the least Lorcan thing he'd heard in the last century.

"She already hates me. Why give her reason to hate me more?"

Lorcan tugged his head up with a hand in his hair, pulling up just enough to get his mouth round his glass. As Claudio watched, he chucked back more drink.

"Evette doesn't hate you."

"You didn't see her face. I've fucked it forever."

"Put the drink down."

"No. I need this."

"Give me the—"

The werewolf held the glass out of Claudio's reach, snarling, "I need it."