Chapter 149: A Soap Opera

Words : 1186 Updated : Sep 27th, 2025

Chapter 149: A Soap Opera Renar knew damn well that if the secret about the lycans’ birth curse and looming extinction ever reached the public, it’d start a war between lycans and werewolves, where all this time, each side fighting for the right to rule the werewolf society. A war nobody wanted. The scars and ruins left by the war centuries ago between werewolves and lycans hadn’t fully healed yet. The bitterness still lingered, and distrust still poisoned the air. Every effort to build justice and unity in Ashenhold would go up in flames overnight if the werewolves turned rogue and attacked. Ashenhold had always been a sanctuary—one rare place where humans, lycans, and werewolves coexisted under lycan rule. Many werewolves banished by their packs from the countryside had fled here, seeking shelter. Packs often cast out their outcasts—those who were wolfless, cursed, or simply considered liabilities. Rogues, abandoned and alone, found refuge in Ashenhold. It became their only home. Renar took a deep breath. He understood well why his grandfather fought so hard to keep the truth buried. Because if that weakness leaked, werewolves like Varrel Quinnel, who are vile, power-hungry bastards, wouldn’t hesitate to revolt, or worse, lead an invasion to seize Ashenhold. "Then I guess we’ll just have to live with the noise for a while," Renar muttered, annoyed. "Unless you’ve got another scandal lined up to bury it. Caelum’s still unconscious, if you’re planning to use him as a distraction." His tone was biting, because he knew his grandfather well—cold and cunning enough to use his own blood if it meant keeping the Tuffin name at the top. The furrow on Damian’s brow deepened, his frown showing how hard his brain was grinding. "Renar, how much are you sure the perpetrator still doesn’t know about our real secret?" he asked, voice low and serious, enough to make Renar flinch. "We can’t say for sure how much they know, but..." Renar exhaled sharply. "There’s no point in leaking our tech research unless they’re aiming for something bigger. If they truly knew about the cursed bloodline, they’d aim for total exposure, not just the artificial womb story. And the one who leaked it was from Zeran’s aide team. I know exactly how much access an aide gets, and no... there’s no way they’d reach that deep. Not to that secret." Damian nodded slowly, absorbing Renar’s explanation while something smug began curling on his lips—an idea clearly forming. "Then first, make sure of that. Torture the damn mole if needed. Squeeze every drop of intel out of them. Especially if they’ve got ties to Varrel. That bastard stinks. This isn’t just about ousting Tuffin from the election. There’s something else going on." Renar raised one brow, catching the shift. "Then the second?" Damian stood from the sofa, grabbed the remote, and turned the TV back on. The same trashy talk show was still ranting about the scandal. "They’re asking when we’ll make a public statement," Damian said, and then turned to Renar with a wicked grin that barely hid the sadism underneath. "So we give them an answer. And we use what the public eats up best—romance." Renar narrowed his eyes. Damian continued, dark glee in his tone, "After we get that wolfless female back, we release a headline like this: ’Varrel Quinnel Exposed—Sperm Swap Scandal in IVF Procedure.’ We spin it so it looks like Varrel swapped the sperm out of greed, but Zeran, secretly replaced it again with his own... because he fell for her at first sight. Fate. Love. Second chance mate. And soon they’ll be getting married." The entire office rang with Damian’s booming laughter, but Renar’s jaw dropped. "What the hell did you just say? Grandpa, are you directing a soap opera now? We could just expose Varrel’s depravity as it is—" "Are you stupid?" Damian snapped, still grinning. "If we expose it exactly as it is, the public will start questioning the credibility of our IVF centre. But if we toss in a twisted plot with a hopeless psycho-romantic angle, they’ll focus on the love story. They’ll forget the politics and drool over the star-crossed lovers instead. And make sure Lethia feels betrayed—don’t let her accept Zeran’s love right away. We can milk the enemies-to-lovers angle. People eat that shit up. Imagine the headlines. The sympathy. The tears. The stock prices are soaring." Damian’s laughter grew louder, his grin spreading like a villain who’d just crafted his masterpiece. Renar stood frozen, speechless, staring at his grandfather. It sounded like a joke, a sick, twisted one, but he knew better. That gleam in Damian’s mischief-filled eyes, soaked in calculation, meant he was dead serious. He’d go through with it, one hundred percent. "But Grandpa—" "Renar," Damian cut him off, voice turning cold. "There is no but. Just do what I say. It’s for the good of the Lycan society. For Ashenhold." Renar gritted his teeth, stomach churning. "And what if Zeran won’t play along? You know damn well your sons are too full of pride for any circus play." Damian smirked, eyes narrowing. "Tch. And I know exactly what they’re like when they fall in love. Zeran may not realize it yet, but that girl, Lethia, already made him almost punch Caelum in the face. I can feel it. The madness called love is there." Renar let out an irritated sigh. "We can talk about that romance scenario later. We need to find her first before we can even pull off that shit show." Damian locked eyes with him, gaze steady and piercing. "No, we can launch the media play anytime. In fact, if we drop the news as early as tomorrow, it might help you find her faster. Varrel’s side will start to panic once the sperm swap scandal hits the public. They’ll make a mistake trying to contain the fire." For the first time during this madness, Renar actually found himself slightly agreeing with his grandfather’s twisted logic. But still, must they really use Lethia like this? He could already picture her face getting annoyed, voice dripping with sarcasm, throwing one of her biting comments about being the centre of attention. A faint chuckle escaped him. Damn, he missed that sharp tongue of hers. He prayed hard that she would be fine and survive this. Renar stood, staring Damian sharply in the eye, his resolve hardening. "I’ll talk to Zeran first and let him decide, he’s the main actor in this circus after all." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked out of the study. His mind raced, heart unsettled. Renar knew Zeran had plans to marry Lethia, but only because of the pup growing inside her. Thinking about Zeran and Lethia confessing love to each other in some fake romantic fantasy made Renar’s stomach twist. A bitter chill crept through his chest. A small, selfish part of his dark heart whispered what he refused to admit: He wished the main actor could be him. He didn’t want Lethia to accept Zeran’s love. Not even if it was all just part of the script.

Chapter 149: A Soap Opera

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