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Chapter 495 The Echo Beneath Us
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2025-07-11 15:14:43
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Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 495 The Echo Beneath Us
ScarlettI wake up gasping. Not from a nightmare, or from pain, but from something pulling at me.Like something underneath the floorboards has reached up and yanked me halfway through time.The room is quiet. Erik still sleeps beside me, his hand curved loosely around mine, our tether steady and warm where it pulses against my wrist. The fire’s gone out and the window is still dark.But the world feels louder than it should.Like it’s breathing down my neck.I untangle myself gently and move to the center of the room, where I press my hand to the wooden floor.And I feel it. Not just heat, but threads. They may not be visible, or tangible, but they’re real.So real I close my eyes and I see.There’s a flash and I find myself standing alone in a field of snow, hands blackened with ash, magic blazing wild and untethered.Then I see me, standing in front of Victoria, but it’s not now. My hair is longer. My expression… colder. She kneels in front of me bleeding and silent.I see Erik, on
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 494 Wolf-Split
HildaThe world smells wrong. Not like rot or blood, just off.Like a bone set wrong after it broke. Like something beneath the surface has shifted, but no one’s bothered to comment on it.I press my palm against the map laid out on the table. The paper curls at the edges and I feel shaky from the weight of choices.We're past hope now. Past caution. We're in the kill zone."You're obsessing again," Arlo murmurs from behind me.I grunt. "I learned from the best."He walks over, still drying his hands on a dish towel like he hasn't been pacing the kitchen like a caged beast all morning.“If I brood, it’s called being ‘dangerous.’ If you brood, everyone asks if they should run.”“Only if they’re smart.”He leans over the table. His arm brushes mine. Just enough to say he’s here. Just enough that I breathe deeper.Because the truth is, he’s the only one I don’t have to be strong for.The others? They look to me like I’ve got the answers carved into my ribs.Chris hasn’t said much since S
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 493 Glass Between Us
VictoriaThey strip the mirror from the wall. Silently. Like I’m not even here.Two robed members of the Circle, faceless under gauze, nameless by design, disassemble the frame with bare hands, no spellcraft. No respect.Just quiet, methodical removal. As if it were their mirror. As if I don’t live in this room. As if I have no say.I sit on the edge of the bed, watching them. Not speaking.There’s blood on my palm. My own. Dried and flaking. A burn mark rings the center. Scarlett’s magic, residual from where she shattered the spell in my hand. It hurts when I flex it.I do it anyway, because pain is better than this silence.Silence, I can’t fill. Silence is full of all the things I failed to become.When they finish removing the mirror, one of them turns to face me. I still can’t see their features beneath the white veil, but I don’t need to. I know the shape of rejection. Of judgment.“The thread has passed beyond your influence,” they say.“My influence?” I repeat, tone flat.“You
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 492 All the Things We Can’t Say
ErikThe door opens with a creak that sounds too loud for a night like this and Scarlett steps inside.Her clothes are scorched in places. Her boots leave smudges of soot. There’s a cut on her cheek that’s already sealing over.I don’t move from where I sit on the floor, I just stare at her, waiting to see what she needs from me.She sees me, and for one long second, neither of us speaks. Then she exhales like she’s been holding her breath since she stepped outside.“I didn’t kill her,” she says.“I know.” I’m sure the temptation must have been there.“She tried to kill me.”“I know.”“She almost hit the inn. Almost hit you.”I nod.Her jaw clenches. “You’re not going to say anything?”“I’m waiting,” I say. “For the thing you actually want to say.”Scarlett walks to the hearth and stands there, letting the warmth lick at her fingers like it can burn away what she did.Or what she didn’t.“I wanted to,” she whispers.“I know.” She has every right to that desire.“I had her on the groun
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 491 Ash and Ice
ScarlettI feel her coming before I see her. Not because of the hook, Erik severed that.Not because of a vision. Those have gone quiet lately, waiting for a choice I’ve already made.I feel her because the temperature drops. Because my skin tightens. Because the fire inside me rises like a beast being challenged.Victoria steps into the courtyard like she owns it. Like Raventon is hers. Like the silence between us isn’t heavy with every almost, every never, every cut we both pretend not to bleed from.She doesn’t bring backup. Neither do I.I walk out of the inn alone, dust from the shutters still clinging to my sleeves. My pulse is steady. My hands are loose at my sides.But my magic hums against my ribs like it’s asking permission to bite.I give it.Victoria stops a few paces away. Her cloak is a storm cloud around her. Her hair is too perfect, like she froze it into place.And her magic leaks from her in invisible shivers. Cold sharp enough to splinter bone.We stand there for a
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 490 The Howl and the Hearth
ScarlettThere’s a fire burning in the hearth. Something so simple shouldn’t be this comforting, but it is.The scent of char and pine, the low crackle of wood, the way the shadows dance against the walls, it reminds me of home.Of the pack house back in the hills, of the way mom always left the doors open during storm season so we could all come in, barefoot and drenched, and warm our bones without needing to ask.Aunt Cerelia pours something steaming into a mug and hands it to me. It smells like cinnamon and bark and heat. I don’t ask what it is. I don’t care. I just drink.The others are scattered around the sitting room in loose orbit. No one speaks much.Dad paces. Uncle Soren sharpens a blade he probably won’t need.Elliott and Chris sit shoulder-to-shoulder near the fire, legs nearly tangled, whispering low and fast and intense like they always do.I still haven’t spoken to them, but it’s clear they’ve found their own way out of the tangle they were in.Erik sits next to me on
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