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CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
We step into the castle's grand foyer, and the imposing figure of Lord Easterlin emerges from the shadows. What is he doing here so late?
"Your majesty, you finally return," Lord Easterlin's voice resonates through the cavernous space, a mixture of relief and urgency coloring his words as he strides purposefully toward Nickolas.
"Callum, what brings you here at this late hour?" Nickolas inquires, his tone measured yet tinged with a hint of curiosity.
"I have news of my daughter's whereabouts, Your Majesty, and I couldn't wait until morning to share it with you," Lord Easterlin's words send a jolt of shock through me. Why were they looking for Ember? Did something happen that I didn’t know about?
“Really?” Nickolas asks, excitement in his voice from Lord Easterlin’s news. A sense of betrayal claws at my insides, cutting deeper than any wound I've ever known. He expresses an emotion I never thought I would see him show, yet
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NICKOLAS I twirl my bourbon glass, captivated by the intricate dance of ice cubes within, each movement offering a temporary respite from the weight of reality pressing down on me. Shifting my gaze upwards, I observe Amelia sleeping soundly in her bed a few feet away. Her golden locks cascade over the pillow, and a subtle pout graces her lips, an endearing sight that unexpectedly tugs at my heartstrings. Images flash through my mind with vivid intensity, relentless and unyielding. I envision my hands entwined in her hair, gripping it with a fervor matching the intensity of my desire. The thought of her lips wrapped around my hard-on ignites a surge of arousal coursing through me. I moisten my lips, hoping the bourbon hasn't dulled the taste of her juices lingering on them. I hadn’t intended to punish her at Eric’s, but seeing her moving to sit next to him after spending the whole dinner like they were a couple on a date, I lost it.
Mated To My Hated Enemy CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
AMELIAI lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling and counting the crystals on my chandelier for the tenth time since morning. Despite waking up hours ago, I lack the motivation to get out of bed, feeling utterly drained before even starting my day. Maybe it’s because what happened last night knocked some reality into me and has me pondering over them.My hand drifts unconsciously to my neck, the memory of what transpired replaying in my mind. The bruise from Nickolas's grip has likely faded by now, but the sting of his actions lingers. I berate myself for my foolishness, for daring to touch him despite knowing how rigid he is about personal boundaries. It was foolish of me to reach out to him to inquire about his troubles. Even if he hadn't reacted violently, I doubt he would have confided in me. I'm such a fool at times, but I can't entirely blame myself.The sight of him, reeking of alcohol with a bleeding hand, stirred some
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I kiss Beatrice goodbye as we prepare to part ways. She mentions she's headed to the flower shop to pick up flowers for Nickolas's mom before visiting her grave. I hadn't realized it was the anniversary of his mother's death. I inquire about Nickolas's mom, and Beatrice doesn’t hesitate to share. She reveals that Nickolas's mother, Holly, was a human sex slave who was adored by Nickolas's father. Beatrice explains that Holly vanished for a time, and 18 years later, Nickolas was brought to the castle by Leo, who was searching for his mate worldwide. It's speculated that Holly may have realized the dangers of being pregnant before Jane and escaped to her home in England. This revelation sheds light on why Nickolas has a British accent.As much as I consider accompanying Beatrice to visit Holly's grave, I ultimately decide against it. Nickolas and I share no semblance of a relationship. He would probably throw a fit if he saw me visiting his mother’s grave. Moreover,
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"Come back here, you bitch!" Ember's enraged voice echoes behind me as she gives chase, her footsteps closing in fast. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to focus on the path ahead and resist the urge to glance back. Every wasted second could mean the difference between escape and capture.I push my human legs to their limits, the branches and underbrush whipping past me in a blur as I race through the woods. Though the temptation to shift into my wolf form tugs at me, I know the risks outweigh the benefits. Shifting would only make me easier to track, and I can't afford to take that chance.As I continue my desperate flight through the woods, the thought of unmasking my scent to throw off my pursuers crosses my mind. However, the memory of the spell Nickolas cast to stop my heart should I unmask gives me pause. I can't afford to take the risk of checking if it was still there, especially now with danger hot on my heels.Wi
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With a ferocious leap, I pounce on Adam, bringing him crashing to the ground beneath me. Ignoring his screams of pain, I sink my teeth into his shoulder blades, tearing through flesh and muscle with relentless force. His cries grow louder, his pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears as I continue to savage him without remorse.Adam's screams reach a fever pitch as I bite down harder, determined to inflict as much damage as possible. With a savage twist, I rip his arm from his body, blood gushing from the wound and splattering across my fur.A grin spreads across my muzzle as I gaze down at my handiwork, relishing in the sight of Adam's blood staining my claws and coating my face. But I'm far from finished. With a predatory gleam in my eyes, I prepare to unleash further torment upon him, tearing him limb from limb until he's nothing but a broken shell of a man, begging for the mercy he'll never receive.Adam bo
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Mated To My Hated Enemy CHAPTER FIFTY
AMELIAMy eyes flutter open, squinting against the harsh light filtering into the room. As I move to shield my eyes with my right hand, I'm startled to find it stuck in something. Turning toward it, my eyes widen in surprise as I see Nickolas sleeping soundly on my hand.A rush of confusion floods through me as I quickly scan my body, only to find that all my wounds are miraculously healed, with not a single scar in sight. It's impossible. What the hell happened?With a sense of disbelief, I carefully extract my hand from under Nickolas's head, sitting up as I stare in awe at my fully healed body. The events of the previous night flood back to me in a whirlwind of memories, but none of them offer any explanation for this miraculous recovery.“You’re awake,” Nickolas says, his voice tinged with exhaustion as he yawns, dark circles under his eyes. My gaze shifts to his h
Mated To My Hated Enemy CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
My heart pounds as I stand in front of Nickolas's bedroom door, a bowl of medicine in my hand. It's a strange turn of events—I'm the one who almost lost my life, yet it's Nickolas who now needs herbs to recover. Because of what he did, I'm almost fully healed, but I can’t say the same for him. Beatrice told me he sustained some injuries while he fought the lycans, and on top of that, he gave me his blood. Beatrice explained that his status as the king of lycans is the only thing keeping him from being bedridden. If he were an ordinary lycan, he would be fighting for his life right now.Still, none of this explains why I find myself at his door with a bowl of medicine. Beatrice made a bet with me, challenging me to prove her wrong—that Nickolas doesn't truly care about me. To do so, she suggested I get close to him. According to her, once I'm close enough, I'll be able to discern his true intentions. And so, here I am, about to enter his room an
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