The Lycan King's Forbidden Craving - Chapter 76: Chapter 76

"My Lord," Brigid, finally having the time to see Lord Lucas, couldn't contain her happiness.
"You?" Lucas raised a brow. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, Madam Selene isn't feeling well, so I had to replace her," Brigid explained, but Lucas barely heard her as he was busy discussing matters with some warriors.
"My Lord, can I see you?" Brigid requested, reaching to touch him but he moved before her hand could touch his clothing.
"I'm busy. Whatever it is can wait." His voice was dismissive.
He left before she could speak again. Brigid's heart fell at her feet. When was this man going to give her a chance? Was she that invincible?
For the rest of the celebration, Brigid didn't get a glimpse of him.
••••••••
Ambassador Wings
"There's no commotion. Do you think they succeeded?" Toran asked Magnus whose stood by the window.
A beat of silence passed.
"I'm yet to receive feedback from their leader. She should be dead by now. She is a slave, after all; her death won't cause any uproar."
Toran reasoned with his words; they felt true, but everything still felt unsettling.
And before they could see the King again, it would be until the Royal Banquet.
•••••••••
Study Room
"Assassins?" Lucas's brows knitted as Duncan explained the ambush. "Who could have done that?"
"Who else?" Duncan gave him a knowing look, and Lucas immediately understood. "The guards were drugged. Only someone who knew one or two things about the palace could have done this, someone restless because the Royal Banquet is close."
Lucas's jaw clenched. "Is she alright?"
Duncan’s movements tensed for a fleeting moment. “Yes, she’s fine,” he said, then quickly changed the topic. “We need tighter security, Lucas, and also an investigation. Some of them might still be lurking among us. They should be killed on sight.”
“Alright, Your Grace… The search will begin immediately. But is everything okay?” Lucas asked, but Duncan simply nodded, already preparing to leave.
“I need to be somewhere,” he said and walked off, leaving Lucas to sigh.
After that, Lucas headed to the yard as usual. He found Lylah trying to practice with her dagger.
“How’s it coming along?” Lucas asked, and Lylah immediately turned to him.
“My sister?” she asked at once.
“She’s fine.”
“Then why won’t they let me see her? I even tried to sneak…” She paused, realizing what she had said as the Beta's eyes narrowed. “I mean, I tried to ask around, but no one has any idea.”
“The next time you try sneaking around, I swear by the gods, I’ll punish you," his voice icy.
Lylah bit her lip. “But I’m a warrior. I should be able to see and stay with my sister all the time.”
“Not until you finish your training. As for your sister, you’ll surely see her at the banquet. Now get dressed for your first session.”
Lylah sighed and saluted. “Yes, my Lord!”
After a long while, Lucas was slowly losing his patience. Why was it taking almost an hour for Lylah to get ready?
Just as he decided to check, Lylah stepped out in oversized armor. Her walking was barely stable as she forced herself to move in a comical way.
She could barely see her own feet. What the hell was she wearing?
Laughter bubbled up in Lucas; unable to hold it in, he let out a small chuckle.
“What are you doing?” his voice weavered slightly.
Lylah looked down at the armor and pouted. “Doesn’t it look good?”
Lucas cleared his throat, trying to hide the humor in his voice. “Swing your dagger.”
Lylah nodded. With stiffness and effort, she swung her dagger but lost her balance and on her face to the ground.
Lucas suppressed another laugh.
“Ouch!” she yelped, her voice muffled. “How the hell do people wear this?”
“Then don’t wear it.” Lucas crouched before her with a small, amused grin. He tapped her helmet. “Get this thing off, little wolf.”
“Yes, my Lord,” Lylah muttered, struggling to stand. “Uhm… My Lord. A little help here? I can’t get up,” she tried again, but the weight held her down.
Lucas shook his head in disbelief before helping her to her feet.
However, hidden in a corner, Brigid’s lips parted in disbelief as she watch the scene.
The Grand Lord was training Lylah in private? Meanwhile, she—despite all her efforts—hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak to him during the Moonlit Ceremony.
Why?
•••••••
The room felt like a prison; the space was too small, too choking.
Each second felt like torture. Her room was locked, and no one had come in except Nyra, who brought her meals. When she asked about the King, Nyra would say he was busy.
Arianna recalled when she had asked him to please not hate her.
He had repeated that dreadful statement:
“Let go.”
After he left, she realized the reason he had covered her with his robe.
Half of her hair was silver, and her crescent mark was slightly visible—this time not disappearing. It was the first time she had seen it.
Why did everything have to be like this?
It hurt.
It hurt so much, especially when she heard or felt the King’s presence on the other side of the wall. When she heard his deep voice outside her chamber...
And not once had he asked to see her.
A day passed, and there was no sign of him. Not even her sister or her personal maid came for her.
It began to trigger the painful fact that she was still his slave. Mate? Oh, she might get rejected again.
She was just waiting in this room, waiting for it to happen.
The sky was dark outside; the night reminded her of their small outing in the city. She had felt truly happy that night... with him. She missed him. She truly did.
Just one last time, she wanted to hold him, to scent him. He had such an effect on her.
Arianna, back pressed against the headboard, began to sob, letting out the tears that burned in her eyes.
Just once.
The door creaked open, and his scent hit her nostrils, making her head snap up.
There, Duncan stood by the threshold in his casual attire, wearing a tunic.
“Your Grace,” she croaked, unable to stop herself.
“Ari,” his expression softened as he sat on the edge of her bed.
Arianna hugged her folded knees closer, her face damp with tears, eyes swollen from crying so long.
“Selene?” she asked in a worried tone.
“She’s alive,” he replied softly.
She took a deep breath of relief, glad that the head maid had lived.
“Are you here to reject me?” Her voice was barely a whisper, but he heard her.
For a moment, he stared at her. The silence in the room was heavy.
“No,” came his final reply.
Arianna’s lips parted, her heart racing.
“You did nothing wrong; why would I reject you?” he asked in a whisper, and Arianna burst into tears, relief washing over her.
He wasn’t going to reject her.
“Hey,” he called, shifting closer to hold her face, his thumbs wiping away her tears. “Stop crying. I don’t like seeing them.”
She choked between sobs. “They took away your home and everything. You hated them, and I carried their bloodline. I never wanted this... I just...”
“Shh,” he whispered. “I don’t hate you, Ari.”
“But...”
“I see you, Ari. You. You’re not one of those who took my home.” His voice echoed like a dream to her. “I’m sorry for making you cry. I just needed some time to think.”
She stared at him, wondering if this was real, but then he apologized again.
“I hate your tears, Ari. I’m sorry.”
He was actually apologizing.
“Can I be in your arms?” she whispered, and Duncan’s lips tugged up a little.
“Come here, little flame,” he replied.
Immediately, Arianna crashed her body onto his, hugging him tightly and inhaling his scent like the finest elixir she had ever encountered.
This time, he wrapped his strong arms around her, drawing her close and kissing her half-black, half-silv
er hair gently. Then his fingers stroked her hair softly.
“Little flame. My mate,” he whispered, kissing her again.
“Mate.”
His voice was gentle, reaching her very soul.
My mate.