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32: It was Crafted
Huling Na-update:
2025-07-27 22:46:13
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When My Mate Chose Another, the Lycan King Chose Me 33: Because of her
Ashley’s POVThe banging on my door wasn’t normal. It wasn’t the kind of knock you ignore and hope they go away. It was loud, urgent, like they were trying to break the door down with their fists. I froze where I stood, eyes locked on the wooden frame as it shuddered again under another hit. My heart was already beating faster, thudding in my chest like a warning I didn’t want to hear.I walked towards it, slowly, my hands smoothing down my dress like that could somehow settle the unease crawling up my spine. By the time I reached the door, I had already braced myself for bad news. But I wasn’t prepared for how cold their eyes would be.Two guards stood there, dressed in their usual dark uniforms, but tonight, they looked different. Like they weren’t here to escort. They were here to collect.“His Majesty wants to see you,” one of them said. No greeting. No explanation. Just that. Like it was enough.It wasn’t.I tried to hold his gaze, tried to find something in his face that would t
When My Mate Chose Another, the Lycan King Chose Me 32: It was Crafted
Lucien’s POVThe morning came too fast, dragging me out of the restless haze of sleep full of nightmares I barely survived.Standing in front of the mirror, I buttoned up a clean shirt, the fabric crisp and cold against my skin, but it didn’t make me feel fresh. The heaviness from last night clung to me, like smoke that refused to clear. My reflection stared back, hollow-eyed, jaw tight. I ran a hand through my hair, forcing it into place, fixing my face into something that resembled control. A King didn’t get the luxury of showing cracks. A King didn’t get to look like he spent the night wrestling shadows.The halls were silent as I walked, but it wasn’t peace. It was the kind of quiet that watched you, waiting for you to slip. My boots echoed against the polished stone, each step deliberate, measured. The guards along the way didn’t move, didn’t speak, but their eyes followed. I kept my back straight, my expression unreadable, even as my mind wasn’t. Natasha. Her fever. The way her
When My Mate Chose Another, the Lycan King Chose Me 31: Slipping
Lucien's POVThe room was quiet now. Not the tense kind of quiet that suffocates you, but a stillness that wrapped itself around everything, soft and slow. Natasha was asleep, her breathing calm, her lips slightly parted as if even in her dreams she needed to fight for air. The fever had eased. Her skin wasn’t as flushed, but there was a frailty in her face that hadn’t been there before. Like a candle that had flickered too long against the wind.I sat beside her, elbows on my knees, my eyes tracing the curve of her cheek, the way her lashes trembled now and then. My fingers moved before I knew it, brushing a loose strand of hair from her forehead. I didn’t plan to touch her. But once I did, I couldn’t stop. My hand stayed there, fingertips gliding lightly through her hair, slow and steady.My wolf stirred.“What now, Lucien? You’re becoming soft for a woman.”I didn’t answer.“You pretend she’s nothing but a pawn in your little play, but look at you.”He wasn’t wrong. But he wasn’t r
When My Mate Chose Another, the Lycan King Chose Me 30: I'll be here
Natasha’s POV“What are you doing out of bed?”His voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. The weight in it was enough to make me freeze. But his arms—his arms didn’t match the sharpness of his words. They were steady, firm and careful, like he knew I was slipping and had no intention of letting me fall. His hand settled against my waist, not gripping, but anchoring me. Like if he took it away, I’d drift off.The cold that had been crawling under my skin was losing space. It was being pushed out by something warmer now. Something fierce. But it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t the kind of fever that came with coughs and aches. This felt different. Like my body was burning from the inside out, but I wasn’t sure if it was from sickness or from him.“What’s wrong with me?” I barely heard my own words, but he did.“You’re burning up,” King Lucien said, his tone sharp but not frantic. He caught my wrist, his thumb pressing lightly, testing the heat, and something in his expression hardened. “The
When My Mate Chose Another, the Lycan King Chose Me 29: Pneumonia
Natasha’s POVThe night was colder than it should be. Not outside. Inside me. Like the water had carved a home beneath my skin and refused to leave. I was shivering again. My body trembling in slow, uneven waves that no amount of blankets could stop. I had felt this before. The coughs that wouldn’t stop. The fever that came and went like it had a mind of its own. Pneumonia. My mother had battled it with me so many times that I lost count. She used to say my lungs were too proud to ask for help until they were drowning. And now, they were doing it again.But she wasn’t here now.The thick robe wrapped around me felt useless. I had thrown it over two other layers of clothes, but still, the cold found its way in. It felt like I was sitting outside, in the rain, with nothing but my own breath to keep me alive. My hands were shaking as I reached for the bell rope beside the bed. It took more strength than I had to pull it, but I did. The chime echoed through the room, soft but urgent, lik
When My Mate Chose Another, the Lycan King Chose Me 28: Release the maid
Lucien's POV I didn’t say anything. I just stood there, staring at her like the answer I needed was somewhere buried in her face. But it wasn’t. It was in her words, in that tired, breaking voice that didn’t have the strength to fight but still kept pushing. She wasn’t begging me with noise. She was doing it with a quiet that felt heavier than any scream. And that silence... it scraped at something deep, something I’d buried a long time ago and never wanted to dig up.“Fine.” The word slipped out of me, but it didn’t feel like a decision. It felt like surrender. My throat tightened when I said it, like the weight of it was too much. “She’s free. No punishment.”Natasha’s head moved, barely. A slow nod, but it was the way her shoulders eased just a little that got to me. Like she’d been holding a boulder in her chest, and now it was shifting, even if it hadn’t been lifted. She didn’t smile. She didn’t thank me. She just sank back into those hospital pillows like every breath was an ef
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