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Chapter 472 Iron Beneath the Flame
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2025-07-04 11:33:18
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Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 486 Feral Oaths
HildaI don’t need omens to tell me what’s coming.The scent of it is already in the air. Burnt copper, cracked threads, lightning without a storm.Something is about to break. And this time, I’m not going to wait for it to come to my door.I’m going to meet it at the edge of the woods, teeth bared.Cerelia stands beside me in the small clearing behind the inn, arms crossed, brows furrowed. She looks like she hasn’t slept in days.Which means she’s been dreaming too.The dreams aren’t just Scarlett’s anymore. They’re bleeding into all of us. Threads tugging in our bones, whispers curling at the back of our teeth.The Weave is fraying, and my daughter is at the center of it.Of course she is. Of course my brilliant, stubborn, blazing girl is the eye of the storm. It’s in her bloody DNA.“She’s being hunted,” I say flatly.Cerelia nods. “By more than one faction.”“The Circle of Silence, the Court of Fire, and Loki… and now Victoria.”“She’s coming undone.”“No. She’s becoming something
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 485 Our Monsters, Ourselves
VictoriaI can’t sleep.Not because of the nightmares. Because of the waking.Every time I close my eyes, I feel it moving under my skin. The magic Loki gave me – gifted, seeded, bartered – it never quiets. It paces, sharp and animalistic, coiling tighter every time I deny it.It doesn’t want to rest. It wants to rule.I press my palms flat against the bathroom sink and look up at my reflection. The light is too soft for the truth, but I see enough.The whites of my eyes are tinged with gold again. Not fully, not yet. But it’s creeping. And my fingertips glow faintly.Power used to be something I wanted for myself. For control. For clarity. Now it feels like something watching me.I splash water on my face. The mirror doesn’t fog, it ripples.And I suddenly see her. Scarlett.Flames in her blood, stubborn on her mouth, and Erik’s name stitched into her spine like a vow.She’s the storm everyone whispers about in dark corners, but they’ve forgotten what I am.I lean closer and whisper,
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 484 The Hook Buried in Bone
ErikThe hook doesn’t sleep. It waits.Coiled behind my ribs like frost caught in a warm body. Waiting for a crack. For weakness. For her to call.It stirs again now. Victoria’s ice curling cold fingers around the frayed edge of the tether I share with Scarlett.I feel it in the way the heat in my chest shudders and recoils. The connection between us, Scarlett and me, is flame and fury, and the hook tries to mimic it.It doesn’t understand what it’s trying to copy. Twisting affection into compulsion. Loyalty into longing.It never succeeds. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t try.I press my knuckles hard into the wood of the window frame, my breath fogging the glass. It’s night. The kind of dark that clings to your shoulders. The kind that knows your name.Behind me, Scarlett stirs in her sleep. I don’t look over at her.I don’t want her to see me like this. Half bent under the weight of something we can’t excise, not yet. She already carries enough.She knows about everything and she s
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 483 Trial by Flame
ScarlettThe room flickers before I step over the threshold.It’s subtle at first. Just a soft shimmer, like the light is rippling through water. But then the floor changes beneath my feet. The air thickens. The walls go too quiet.I know this feeling. A Weaving. They’re calling me again.I’m really getting sick of being pulled into alternate dimensions, or whatever the hell this is.“Fine,” I whisper, even though no one’s listening. “Let’s see what fire you want from me this time.”I cross the veil. And the world changes.The room dissolves into smoke. Into thread. Into memory.I’m standing in a courtyard made of black stone and ash, under a sky that glows red like it’s been bleeding for centuries.The air tastes of burnt honey and something bitter. Like grief that never healed.She’s already waiting. The woman.She’s tall and regal. Power drips from her skin like sweat. Her hair is copper shot through with gold, and her eyes burn like embers that have never gone cold.I know her. No
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 482 Between the Teeth of Wolves
ArloHilda’s pacing like she wants something to kill.Her boots thud against the inn’s worn wooden floors in an uneven rhythm.One only I can hear, because I’ve lived with the sound of her anger since we were barely more than kids.It's in the sharp turn of her body, the twitch of her fingers near her blades, the snarl curled behind her teeth.She hasn’t said anything yet. She doesn’t have to.The air tells me enough. Something has shifted.I lean against the wall, arms crossed, watching her make another lap. “You keep that up, you’re going to wear a path through the floor.”She stops and turns slowly.“If one more person tells me to be patient, I’m going to bite their goddamn head off.”I nod once. “Fair.”Her eyes narrow. “You’re not going to tell me I’m overreacting?”“No.”“You’re not going to tell me Scarlett’s strong enough to handle this without us?”“No.”A pause. “You’re not going to try to calm me down with sex?”I push off the wall and close the distance between us in two s
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 481 Everything She Touches
VictoriaThe air bends when I breathe now. I used to think that was poetic. Power humming under my skin, magic thick enough to taste.But lately it feels less like a hum and more like a warning. Like the world is watching me. Holding its breath. Waiting for me to do something I can’t take back.I’m not afraid of that. Not exactly.But I’m not blind, either.The mirror in my bedroom shows me what the others won’t say aloud. My reflection is too bright around the edges. Gold seeps into the whites of my eyes, and sometimes my voice echoes even when I’m standing alone.And the power. It’s always there now.A vibration in my bones. Ice licking the back of my spine. It never sleeps, never dims. It waits.Like someone lit a fire in my chest and then left the room with the embers still smoldering.I reach out and touch the mirror. It fogs beneath my fingers, but the glass doesn’t crack. Not today.The last one did.I’ve stopped counting how many I’ve broken just by standing too close.It’s no
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