<i>Zephyrine </i>


    .35%–


    Finished


    “He is here, Zephyr.” Dessyn’s voice floats through the chamber above the thick tension, and I go cold.


    It’s said all over the empire that the cursed Lycan King has a mistress. A rogue who caught his eyes and stole his senses. That’s me.


    Morwen left her duties as a priestess, abandoned her coven, to “save” me. But I can’t leave him. Just because he is cursed doesn’t mean he is… bad. Is he?


    “Zephyr?” Dessyn’s voicees again as she walks from the window to the bed where I sit. “Zephyr, he’s entered the Pack.”


    I stare ahead into empty space, my mind spinning. I’ve always loved and respected Morwen, and I will continue to but only if she stops being rude to Lycannar.


    I sent Blue to inform Lycannar I’m inviting him to dinner. Only I have that audacity. Blue returns with a small nod and the words he will arrive and here he is.


    Gently, I rise from the bed and move toward the living room, Dessyn behind me. I can tell she hates her mother’s behavior as much as I do. Even Nathan seems exhausted from her ranting.


    I arrive in the living room to see Morwen standing in the center, eyes fixed on the door. I pause at her smirk. She’s issued a challenge that Lycannar won’t dare cross this doorway. I called it a bluff, but now, staring at the door, I feel hesitation.


    Somehow I can tell he is right outside. I can feel the warmth in the air, the scent of flowers mingled with the sharp tang of blood. The unmistakable presence of Lycannar.<fn2a1e> This update is avable on </fn2a1e>


    I stand there, hoping he wille to me, that he will open the door and step in. But no knockes. Not a single footstep.


    “Demon.” Morwen spits, and goosebumps flood my skin.


    I can’t bear it any longer. I move toward the door and open it. He is standing there. His eyes, pale gold, glow softly. Something in the air seems to unsettle him.


    His gaze move ahead to lingers on Morwen, then he takes a step toward the exit. My heart shatters, and I rush after him, just in time to stop him at his horse outside the Pack.


    “Lycan?” I call out, and he stops, turning. He looks pale, and horror floods me. “Lycannar.”


    I call him again in panic. He pulls me into his arms, hugging me tenderly. I feel his struggle to stay sane, to control himself, and I hug him too, softly rubbing his back.


    “Lycan…” I whisper as I finally pull back to look at him, cupping his face in my palms. “Are you okay? Lycannar?”


    He stares at me in silence. Before he can answer, footsteps approach. Morwen halts before us, ring straight at him.


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    Finished


    “A man who can’t enter the house of a priestess, and you think I’ll sit aside while you marry my daughter? Never. Whatever you feel for her should die tonight, Lycannar Blood. Zephyr is off–limits to a creature with no ce in this world.”


    I stiffen, turning toward her, but she keeps her gaze fixed on Lycannar, who won’t meet her eyes. Protectively, I hold him close, standing between them as though to shield him.


    Morwen res once more, then finally walks back into the Pack.


    Her departure leaves silence and ache behind. I turn to him; he stares after her, a small frown on his face.


    “Lycan. I’m sorry. You don’t need to listen to her. I’ll talk to her.”


    He doesn’t hear me. Instead, he asks, voice low,


    “Who is she?” He shifts his gaze to mine. “I thought you said your parents are dead.”


    “She’s… Dessyn’s mother. She’s like a mother to me too,” I reply quietly, my palm brushing his arm. “Lycan… are you okay?”


    He frowns but nods.


    “The house…” he murmurs, looking ahead. “It has a lot of… holy relics. They weren’t there when I came days ago.”


    My breath hitches. I recall how he turned away from the Moon Goddess’s statue before.


    “Morwen must have brought them with her. She’s a priestess.”


    I sense his tension at the word. A priestess. What does that have to do with anything?


    In silence, he lowers his gaze, swallowing hard.


    “I can’t go in there. It’s too dangerous for me, especially now that I’m weak,” he mutters, and my heart races.


    “How do you mean, Lycan?” He looks away. I stand my ground, pressing. “I deserve an exnation. You can’t enter because of some holy relics?”


    He takes a step back, but I grasp his wrist, forcing him to meet my gaze.


    “Don’t I mean anything to you?”


    “You know you mean everything to me,” he replies, finally meeting my eyes, then sighs. “I’m cursed. Holy relics are one of my weaknesses. They strip me of my sanity. If I dare walk into that house… I’d end up… killing everyone unknowingly. I’d go on a rampage.”


    His words crush me, and I feel tears rise, but then a carriage approaches.


    The Crest of the Hue Pack glimmers on its side, and I freeze. Nyroth Hue is here for dinner.


    The carriage stops, and he steps out, apanied by Kai.


    “Zeph, my goodness. What are you doing out here?” Nyroth asks, as if he doesn’t even see Lycannar. “You shoulde in, my beloved Mate. Thanks, by the way, for inviting me to dinner.”


    22:29 Fri, Sep 5 <b>R </b>


    He walks into the Pack, whispering to Kai as he goes,


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    “Maybe I should sleep over in her chamber tonight. I missed touching her body. She looks so lovely in her nightgown.”


    I want to sink into the floor. He said that to provoke Lycannar.


    I nce at the Lycan King. No expression, but his eyes lock onto mine, burning with fury.


    “My love, listen…” I begin, but he pulls away, mounts his horse, and in a sh, gallops into the night, back to his vast kingdom.


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