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CHAPTER 106 — The Healer Returns
publish date:
2026-09-19 15:10:08
Lady LovelockA wedding under the pear trees, with blossom in everyone's hair. One chapter left, my loves. Next time, everyone gathers in the garden at sunset, and Aurora has one more toast to make. Add the book to your library so you're there for the last page. - Lady Lovelock x
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After My Alpha Rejected Me, I Became the Lycan Queen CHAPTER 107 — The Garden at Sunset
On the day of the school's twentieth anniversary, everyone gathered in the garden.It was a spring evening, and the flowers were blooming in colours I did not have names for. Cassian had planted them over years, choosing seeds from places we had visited, from places people had come from, from places that reminded us of the life we were building together. A student from the coast had brought him a twist of paper full of something blue and trailing. A widow from the eastern farms had sent a single bulb wrapped in her husband's handkerchief. He had planted every one of them, and labelled none, and knew them all.Long tables had been carried out under the pear trees and covered in every cloth the compound owned, none of them matching. Someone had strung lanterns between the branches. The kitchen had been in open warfare since dawn, and the bread had won.Iris and Tobias were there, with their daughter, a three-year-old who had never known a world where choice was not a fundamental right.
After My Alpha Rejected Me, I Became the Lycan Queen CHAPTER 106 — The Healer Returns
Iris came to us one spring evening with a man I had never seen before.I was in the garden with my skirts kilted up and soil to the elbow, fighting Cassian's sage for possession of the far bed, when I heard her voice at the gate. I would know that voice through a closed door, across a crowded hall, from the far side of a fever. I stood up too fast and left a muddy handprint on my own cheek, and I did not care in the least.She was twenty-five years old now. She was fully herself in a way that only time and intentional work can make possible. She wore the plain grey of the Keeper's temple, travel-stained at the hem, and her hair was braided back the way I used to braid it for her when she was small and would not sit still. And she was holding his hand.Not holding it the way a girl holds a hand to show it off. Holding it the way you hold a rope on a steep path, without thinking, because you trust it."I want to tell you something," she said, and I knew before she spoke what it was.Cas
After My Alpha Rejected Me, I Became the Lycan Queen CHAPTER 105 — Aurora's Final Benediction
Aurora was seventy-seven years old when she decided to write her final book.She had been writing for years, essays and memoirs about motherhood, about choice, about the specific way that love can either cage people or set them free. Her books lived on every shelf in the compound, their spines cracked by students who read them in the small hours and then came to breakfast with red eyes and very particular questions. But this one was different. She had told me she was writing the book that would close something in her.She wrote it through a whole winter and into the spring, at the corner table of the library, in a grey wool wrap with her spectacles pushed up into her white hair where she could never find them. She would not let anyone read a page. Not me, not Cassian, not the students who brought her tea and lingered hopefully at her elbow. When young Elara asked her, very politely, what it was about, my mother said, "Endings, darling," and went back to her ink.We sat in the library
After My Alpha Rejected Me, I Became the Lycan Queen CHAPTER 104 — The Second Girl
On a cold morning in the winter of the sixteenth year, a young woman arrived at the gate.The frost had come down hard in the night. The courtyard was white and silent, the well-rope stiff as wire, and I was at the woodpile with my sleeves pushed up and my breath smoking when I heard the bell at the gate ring once, then stop, as though whoever had pulled it had lost their nerve halfway through.She could not have been more than seventeen. She was dressed in robes that marked her as royalty, and she was trembling. The robes had been beautiful once. Now the hem was black with road mud and torn along one side where it must have caught on a thorn hedge, and someone had cut the gold thread from the cuffs, carefully, the way you would if you needed to sell it at an inn and did not want to spoil the rest. Her shoes were court slippers. They were not made for mountains. I could see from the gate that her feet were bleeding through them.I knew those robes. Not these ones exactly, but their cu
After My Alpha Rejected Me, I Became the Lycan Queen CHAPTER 103 — The House We Built
Cassian and I moved into the old stone cottage at the far edge of the compound.It was the original cottage, the one we had rebuilt with our own hands years ago, back when the roof let in more weather than it kept out and the only furniture was a table Cassian had made from a fallen larch and a single chair we took turns pretending not to want. The compound had grown up around it since then, the way a town grows up around a well. Now the students called it the Old House, with a reverence that made me laugh, because I remembered sleeping in it on a floor of pine boughs with my boots on.And now it was ours alone. A place where we could live as partners, not as teachers, not as the founders of an institution, but simply as two people who had chosen each other.He had asked me when we would do this. He had asked it more than once, over more than one winter, never pressing, always in the tone of a man enquiring after the weather in a country he meant to visit someday. And I had said: "Whe
After My Alpha Rejected Me, I Became the Lycan Queen CHAPTER 102 — The Woman Who Stayed
After the gathering, one of the older students asked to speak with me.It was past midnight. The lanterns in the hall were guttering one by one, and the last of the revellers were being herded towards bed by Aurora, who could clear a room faster than any Palace steward I had ever known. Iris was asleep upstairs in her old room with her boots still on. I had taken a candle to the library to be alone with the quiet for a few minutes before I faced the washing-up, and I heard the door open behind me and knew, from the careful way it closed, that this was not someone who had come for a book.Her name was Mariana, and she had come to the school five years ago. She had been a merchant's wife, trapped in a life she had not chosen, unable to see that she had the power to leave.I remembered the day she arrived. She had worn grey silk entirely wrong for the mountains, and she had apologised to the doorframe when she bumped her shoulder on it. For the first month she would not sit down until ev
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