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Chapter 537 The Lake Again, but Wrong This Time
Huling Na-update:
2025-07-25 14:16:24
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Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 540 A Man With Eyes Like the End of the World
IlsaThe fog comes in low.We’ve seen it before, curling through the underbrush like it has somewhere to be. But this fog is denser. More deliberate.It muffles sound and sharpens every branch. By the time we realize it’s moved in, the forest is already fading into ghost-light shapes.“Keep close,” Scarlett says, fire magic shimmering faintly under her skin.Her eyes flash gold just once. But it’s enough to make Erik tense beside her.Chris and Elliott move like shadows. My wolf bristles beneath my skin, ears sharp for a snap or a footfall or something worse.But it isn’t danger that finds us.It’s him.The fog parts like a curtain, just enough to show the silhouette of a figure stumbling forward.He’s tall, too thin, and bleeding. There are dark stains blooming across his ribs and down one arm. His shirt is torn nearly in half, and his hair hangs damp across his cheekbones.But it’s his eyes that stop me.They’re silver. Not like mirrors. Like starfire.He sees us, and when his gaze
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 539 The Bone-Ring Path
Group POV – Third person OmniThe air changes.Not colder. Not heavier. Aware.As if every breath the five intruders take belongs to someone else, and that someone is listening.Chris notices the clearing first. He stops mid-stride, arm shooting out in warning.For hours the trail has funneled them through curtains of bramble and moss, steering their boots along a route none of them remembers choosing.Now the forest parts, revealing what waits like a stage revealed by a snap of velvet drapes.A circle.Then another.And another.Ten concentric rings of bone, each precisely spaced.Curved pieces that are too bleached and too clean to be carrion-leftovers.Skulls. Spines. Ribs. Antlers polished to porcelain. Fangs as long as fingers. All arranged with maddening symmetry.Equal parts ritual, warning… and trap.Ilsa’s breath catches. She crouches beside the outermost ring and brushes her fingertips across a vertebra the size of a saucer.“These are real,” she whispers, the pads of her fi
Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King Chapter 538 Touch Me Like I’m the Only Thing That’s Real
ChrisWe don’t talk about the stars.We don’t talk about the air that hums too loud, or the forest that folds tighter every time we blink. We don’t talk about the way my bones ache near the monoliths, or how the birds don’t sing anymore.We just walk.Elliott’s hand brushes mine for the third time in a mile and I take it.Because this place is fraying the edges of me, and he’s the only thing I trust to hold me together.When we stop for the night, Scarlett and Erik are scouting ahead. Ilsa offers to take first watch, leaning against a tree like a sentinel carved from dark wood and sharper instincts.I give her my dagger before Elliott and I wander off a short way, under the pretense of gathering firewood.We don’t go far.As soon as we’re out of sight, I grab his wrist and pull him behind a thick tangle of evergreens.He looks at me like he’s already burning.Like I’m the only thing that can touch him without unraveling the thread.And I kiss him like I need him more than I need air.
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
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