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Chapter Fifty-Four: Setting the Trap
publish date:
2026-09-21 15:44:47
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Rejected by My Alpha, Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter Ninety-Three: Face to Face
Lyra's POVHe stepped out of the shadows of the colonnade like a man arriving at his own dinner party.I knew that walk. I had watched it cross a hundred council halls, unhurried and mild, a tall man in plain gray robes with silver threaded through his hair. I had bowed to him at gatherings and ceremonies. I had believed him kind.That was the worst part. Nothing about him had changed. Only I had."Lyra," he said, and his voice was warm. Gentle. Exactly as it had always been. "I'd hoped we might speak like this at last, without all the pretense."Cassian moved in front of me in one swift step, his sword half drawn. Rowan and Darius closed ranks on either side. Elowen leaned heavily on her cane, her face the color of ash."Stay where you are," Cassian said."Your Majesty." Malachar inclined his head. "You look well, considering. The silver can be so stubborn.""Another step, and I'll find out how stubborn you are.""I don't doubt it." The faintest smile touched his mouth. "But I would
Rejected by My Alpha, Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter Ninety-Two: Seraphine's Peril
Lyra's POVThe footstep came again, slow and heavy, closer this time.Nobody breathed. Cassian pulled me behind a fallen pillar, one hand pressed against my arm. Rowan and Darius melted into the shadows on either side of the throne room's threshold, blades drawn without a whisper of steel.A man stepped into the lamplight.He was tall, broad, dressed in the dark uniform of Malachar's private guard. He carried a bucket of water in one hand and a loaf of bread in the other, and he was humming under his breath, like a man on a boring night watch.He never saw Darius.One arm hooked around his throat. A hand clamped over his mouth. The bucket hit the floor with a soft splash, and the guard's boots drummed against the stone for three seconds, and then he went limp."Alive," Rowan whispered."Alive," Darius agreed, lowering the man to the ground. "Bound and gagged. He'll wake with a headache.""He was carrying food." Cassian's voice was low. "And water. For someone.""For many someones, I'
Rejected by My Alpha, Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter Ninety-One: Into the Ruins
Lyra's POVWe almost turned back.I stood at the mouth of the pilgrim's road with Seraphine's note crushed in my fist, and every instinct I owned screamed at me to run. *Do not trust the garden.* Garbled, frantic, half-finished. A cry for help, or a warning, or a trap."We can't go back," Cassian said quietly. "The army's already moving north. If we turn around now, we've wasted the head start.""Seraphine might be dying.""She might." He caught my hand. "And if we stand here arguing, we lose the only chance we have to reach that vault first."I looked at him. His face was gray, and the effort of standing was written in every line of it. Behind him, Darius, Rowan, and Elowen waited in silence."We go on," I whispered. "But if it's a trap, I'm never forgiving myself.""Then we'll be careful."We went in.The pilgrim's road swallowed us. It was a narrow, winding tunnel cut through the living rock, its walls carved with faded crescents and the half-erased faces of kneeling worshippers.
Rejected by My Alpha, Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter Ninety: The Hidden Path
Cassian's POVI hated every minute of being carried.It was the sixth day since the battle, and I still couldn't walk the length of the tent without my ribs screaming. So I sat propped against a stack of pillows, a map spread across my knees, while Elowen traced a faded line of ink with one trembling finger."The pilgrim's road begins here," she said. "A mile east of the river, in the cliffs. The Dominion's wards still guard the entrance.""And Malachar knows nothing of it?""He has not found it in twenty-two years. I would stake my life that he has never looked.""You're staking more than that," Rowan muttered from the next cot. "You're staking ours.""Then we are all in good company."Lyra sat at the foot of my bed, her chin resting on her knees, listening with the quiet intensity I had come to recognize. When I looked at her, the thread between us hummed, warm and steady."How long is the road?" she asked."Four days on foot. Perhaps five.""Wide enough for an army?""Not remotely
Rejected by My Alpha, Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter Eighty-Nine: Regrouping
Lyra's POVFor two days, the army did nothing but bury its dead and mend itself.The camp sprawled along the base of the ridge like a wounded animal licking its sores. Smiths hammered dented plates back into shape. Healers moved among the cots with basins and bandages. Soldiers sat in silent clusters, sharpening blades that didn't need sharpening, because their hands needed something to do.I walked the rows each morning and counted. Wounded. Dead. Barrels. Sacks.The last number frightened me most."Three days of grain," the quartermaster said grimly, standing before a nearly empty wagon. "Four, if we cut the rations. And that's before we count the wounded, who eat like horses.""Can we send for more?""From where, my lady? The northern holdings are two weeks behind us. The Whispering Forest route is slow, and Malachar's raiders have already hit one convoy.""Then we ration.""The soldiers won't like it.""Neither do I." I rubbed my temples. "Do it anyway."He saluted and left. I st
Rejected by My Alpha, Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter Eighty-Eight: Aftermath of Battle
Lyra's POVThe healers worked through the night, and I did not leave Cassian's side.I sat on a low stool beside his cot with his hand wrapped in both of mine, watching the lamplight flicker across his face. He was so pale. The strong lines of his jaw had gone slack, and a thin sheen of sweat clung to his forehead. Every breath he took rattled faintly in his chest."Hold the lamp higher," Mira said quietly.A young healer obeyed. Mira bent over the wound, her face drawn, a pair of fine silver tongs gripped in one steady hand."There's more," she muttered. "Slivers. The blade must have splintered against his rib.""Can you get them out?""I'm trying." She drew a tiny, glittering shard from the torn flesh and dropped it into a dish. It rang against the clay like a bell. "Silver poisons a Lycan's blood the longer it stays in. Every piece I take out, the wound fights a little less.""And if you miss one?""Then it keeps fighting." Her eyes found mine. "I won't miss one."I nodded, and s
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