Zephyrine


    A


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    Not in the usual tower but in another bedchamber. It looks luxurious, more graceful than the tower, and I wonder what ce this is until I walk further in and begin to see the royal imprint etched into the walls.


    No maids, no guards in sight. Just silence upon silence. Yet instead of the quiet bringing peace and serenity, it only brings anxiety and anxiousness.


    The first time I ever walked into the Lycan Kingdom and met the royalty, I learned how much Lycannar’s sisters meant to him and now, for him to have attacked Princess Serena in a fit of rage means one thing.


    Truly, he has lost his mindpletely, and we have to do something about it fast. Or even the strongest shackles won’t be able to hold him down.


    I walk toward the bedchamber Princess Mearez had directed me to, arriving atst <i>at </i><i>a </i>hall where a thin light glides ahead under a door.


    Silently, I walk toward it and stop at the threshold, my heart in my mouth. I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know at all.


    Slowly, I reach for the door, but then it opens. Chantel appears in the doorway, startling me with his suddenness.


    Silence falls between us as we stare into each other’s eyes. Those eyes of his ominous, expressionless. Quietly he opens the door wider and bypasses me, stepping into the hallway, silent and mysterious as ever.


    I stare at him for a while before stepping into the bedchamber. The bed is empty, but I can hear the soft sounds of water and movement from the inner chamber, the bathing room.


    My eyes linger on the bed for a moment, then drift to the w marks on the wall. Curiosity draws me closer, and I see the shes cut deep.


    Peering closer, I realize something odd. These aren’t normal w marks. They look almost…


    “When did


    you


    arrive?”


    The question, low and deep, makes me freeze. I try to regain control before slowly, very slowly, turning to face him. Lycannar.


    15:43 Fri, <b>Oct </b><b>3 </b>


    日


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    He stands there, a few steps away. He has just taken his bath, his hair still damp, only trousers on, his upper body bare.


    I don’t answer right away. Instead, my gaze lingers on his face. That beautiful face. Those eyes. He looks dreamlike and dangerous all at once.


    My eyes drop, and I see it, my ring on his finger. He is not done with me. I believe he never will be.


    “An hour ago,” I reply quietly, lowering my gaze. “Princess Mearez let me in.”


    He says nothing. Instead, he turns toward the window, looking out. <fn7692> Original content can be found at f?i?n?d?n?o?v?e?l?</fn7692>


    From where I stand, my eyes travel over his back, broad shoulders, skin marked with runes<i>. </i>The same runes now etched into my own skin. And then the reality hits me. Whether he is truly my mate or not.


    I feel nothing now. Just normal emotions. No reaction from my wolf.


    “You should go back home. I’ll ask Chantel to escort you,” his voicees, surprising me. He turns to look at me. “It’ste.”


    Silence. Deep silence. Did I hear right? Is he… asking me to leave? Lycannar?


    “I will stay the night,” I say, holding his gaze, but he does not agree.


    “Go home, Zephyrine.”


    “Why?” He looks away, reaching for his boots, but I step over to him, my heart beginning to drum. “Why, Lycan?”


    “It’s nothing. Just… leave.”


    My heart sinks at the dismissal in his voice. Never in a million years did I think he would say this. That he would ever think he could discard me after everything.


    He puts on his boots and straightens, reaching for his shirt, but I block his way angrily. He looks away.


    “Lycan?” No response. He only sets his jaw, looking aside. Anger brews in me, frustration swelling until I suddenly shove him. To my shock, the impact makes him stumble, and I’m stunned.


    He was an unwavering rock of strength that never wavered. What happened now?


    “I hate you,” I spit out bitterly. “I hate you so much.”


    “I’m trying to protect you, Zephyrine. You’ll thank meter.”


    “Lycan..”


    “Leave!” he snaps suddenly, eyes shing.


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    Tension rises like a storm. The atmosphere deepens, heavy as he stares at me anger, depression, frustration flickering across his face before he turns away, walking to the bed and copsing onto it, burying his face in his palms.


    “I’m losing it, Zephyrine. I don’t know what to do.” He swallows hard. “I feel… so tired, so weak, and I hate it. Without the tower I’m dangerous and dying. And breaking that rule, looking in the mirror… I can feel something biging and… and I’m scared.”


    He looks up now, slowly, and the frustration in his eyes makes my heart want to burst.


    “Lycan.”


    “I almost killed my sister today. I went for her neck. I can’t forgive myself for that. My people… they’re not safe with me like this. What if an attack came? I won’t be able to defend them. I don’t know what to do, Zephyrine. I don’t know.”


    Goosebumps rise on my skin at his words. Gently, I move closer and sit beside him, taking his hand tenderly.


    “You can have the tower rebuilt. Can you not?”


    He shakes his head.


    “It’s not about the tower. It’s about the spell that binds it. Only one witch can do that, and she’s not here.”


    I search his eyes, giving his hand a squeeze.


    “Where is she? I will find her for you.”


    He pauses, looking at me, then shakes his head.


    “No one can until the next full moon. Until then, I don’t know how to survive.”


    “Maybe I can help you, Lycan. Let me help with anything.” I search his eyes, swallowing hard. “You told me once if any of us is in trouble, it’s our problem. Let’s face it together and find a solution. You can’t just ask me to leave.”


    15:43 Fri, Oct <b>3 </b>


    “I can if I’m dangerous to you, Zephyrine. Do you want to be a widow?”


    “Don’t say that.”


    “I am dying. You have to leave.”


    日刷3


    “No.” I whisper, cupping his cheek. “No one will ever love you as I do, Lycan. I’m the one who has the right to leave you, not the other way around. You are mine and I am yours. Have you forgotten?”


    No words. Instead, his answeres as a tender kiss, like a light breaking through the dark tunnel.


    In the serenity of the night, epting one another for our mistakes, he kisses me tenderly and I respond. My wolf responds too, the runes on my skin warming until they burn, forcing me to groan in pain and pull back.


    And looking into Lycannar’s eyes, for once, it happens. Right in front of him. My wolf calls him “Mate.”