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Chapter 381 Strings of Power
Huling Na-update:
2025-06-04 11:51:41
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Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 537 The Lake Again, but Wrong This Time
ElliottI’m not superstitious.I mean, I was raised by wolves, literally, but still.I believe in sharp teeth and instincts. In wind shifts and silent signals. In the way a pack moves like one body when the air changes.I believe in natural magic and the strength that comes from belonging to a family.I’ve seen some shit in the last few years, but this forest?This place doesn’t run on instinct.It runs on intention.And today, that intention wants us looking at the lake. Screw what we want.It appears just past a cluster of split birch trees, nestled like a secret between sloping banks and creeping vines.The surface is so still it doesn’t look like water. More like black glass, stretched thin over something bottomless.It’s creepy as hell and I want to get as far away from it as possible.Scarlett’s the one who sees it first. She stops hard, arm shooting out to halt the rest of us.“Oh,” she says. Just that. Quiet and tight. Like she recognizes it and doesn’t like it.Erik follows h
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 536 Things That Breathe in the Bark
IlsaIt’s not a sound that wakes me. It’s the pause between them that grows longer and longer, before it suddenly disappears.The woods go silent all at once. There’s no breeze, no bird calls, no distant rustling. Just stillness so complete it feels intentional.Like the forest is holding its breath to hear better.I open my eyes, staying completely still. My boots are already tied and my knife is in its sheath at my side.If I know where the threat is, I’m ready to burst into action.The fire’s burned low. Chris and Elliott are curled up together nearby, legs tangled.Scarlett and Erik lie on opposite sides of the camp now, not touching, both pretending they’re asleep.And I’m lying here while my skin itches.Like something has been watching me sleep. Like it touched me again.I sit up slowly and slide my blade free from its sheath.The fog has returned. It’s thin this time, like it’s pretending to be harmless. Just regular old fog.I don't wake the others. Whatever is out there want
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 535 Not the Sky I Remember
ChrisI wake to silence. Not peace. Not stillness.The kind of silence that hums behind your teeth and makes your skin crawl, like something’s waiting to exhale.The fire’s dead. There’s no wind. The trees don’t creak. Even the bugs are quiet.I push up on one elbow and glance around camp. Scarlett and Erik are tangled together, barely covered by a blanket.Ilsa’s sleeping with her back to me, knife sheathed, but fingers twitching like she’s dreaming of blood.Elliott lies beside me, one arm flung across my ribs, his warm breath on my collarbone.The moment should be soft. But it isn’t. Because the sky is off.I blink and rub my eyes, then look again.There’s no moon. Only stars. Far too many of them. Bright and packed together tightly.Like someone took the constellations I grew up with and shook them in a jar, adding a few million before throwing them back.“Elliott,” I whisper. “Can you see this too?”He groans and curls closer, kissing my throat instead of answering.“Seriously. S
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 534 Nothing in the Mirror Looks Like Me
ScarlettI can’t stop shaking. Not on the outside. As far as everyone else is concerned I’m fine. Perfectly in control.No, the shudder is inside me. Quiet and coiled tight, like a snare trap under my ribs.It isn’t fear. It feels more like recognition.Whatever moved through the trees today wasn’t an animal. It wasn’t wildlife. It was a message wrapped in stillness. A warning whispered in silence.And when Erik said the eyes didn’t blink, that the thing didn’t even breathe, I knew it was watching me.Like it’s waiting for me to slip so it can move in. And gods help me, I think I already am.By nightfall the others fall into our usual routine. Fire, food, blades cleaned, salt wards laid in a broken ring.I go through the motions like I’m still in my own skin even though the flame crackling behind my ribs flickers icy-blue every few heartbeats.Every time it does, heat and chill surge together, leaving me feeling dizzy, hollow, full and off balance.Erik watches me the way a cliff watc
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 533 The Cold Between Teeth
ErikThe cold comes all at once.Not from a drop in temperature. Not wind. Not even dew.Just a sensation. A bite.It slinks in behind my ribs and curls in my teeth like I just bit into snow that’s been sitting on a grave.I stop walking and Scarlett halts too, instinctively reaching for the dagger on her thigh.She doesn’t speak, but her eyes dart up toward mine, and I already know.She feels it too.Something's here.It’s not the usual forest weight. We’ve become used to that. The hush of watching eyes, the creak of trees adjusting in the breeze.This is deeper. Like the air’s gone thin and too thick at once. Like the space between us and whatever’s behind the trees is a heartbeat away from collapsing.“Don’t react,” I murmur.Scarlett’s voice is ice. “Eyes on the ridge?”“Three o’clock,” I say. “Between the black pine and that boulder that looks like a kneeling man.”“I see it,” she says, barely a breath.And I do too.Silver eyes.Not glowing. Not flashing. Just there.Reflective
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 532 Nothing That Bleeds Is Sleeping
IlsaI wake to the smell of blood.Not a scream. Not snapping branches. Just the sharp, metallic scent that hits me like a punch to the nose.I sit up instantly.My knife is already in my hand before I’m fully conscious, my heart pounding a silent war drum behind my ribs.The fire’s a slow smolder, barely more than embers now, and the forest is quiet. Not the good kind. Not the peace-before-dawn kind.The bad kind.The something-holding-its-breath kind.The others are still asleep. Scarlett and Erik curled together like flame and flint. Chris and Elliott tangled in the haphazard sprawl of lovers who don’t yet know they’re not alone.There’s no movement I can hear. No signs of a struggle that I can see.And yet the smell is overpowering in its intensity.That’s when I look down at my shoulder and find the origin of the scent.The fabric of my shirt is torn. Four long rips through the sleeve, frayed edges sticky with blood.The flesh underneath has barely been grazed, but unmistakably c
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