บททั้งหมดของ When My Mate Chose Another, the Lycan King Chose Me: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Natasha’s POVThe past week hadn't been half as bad as I thought it’d be. At least, not in the way I expected. I hadn’t been dragged into dark rooms or forced to kneel for anyone or slapped for blinking too slow like I was back home. No one shouted orders at me. In fact, no one said anything much. I was left alone, like an untouched ornament on a shelf. Dusted once and then forgotten.The bed was too soft, the pillows too many. The bath was warm every evening. My meals came on time. My clothes were washed and pressed before I even thought of them. But that was the problem. Everything was done for me. No one asked me to scrub, to carry, to run, or to fetch. Nobody handed me a broom. I hadn’t swept a floor or folded a sheet since I got here, not even my own.And it was driving me insane.I didn’t know what to do with myself. I’d wake up and just… exist. Stare at the wall. Walk from one end of the room to the other. Pace. Try to read but not understand a thing I was reading. Sometimes I’d

Natasha’s POVThe sound of laughter echoed from the far end of the hallway. I stood still, just behind the tall glass doors that opened to the grand ballroom. It wasn’t fully dressed yet. The floors were being polished to a mirror shine, golden ribbons stretched across the arches, and the maids scurried in and out with arms full of flowers and trays. The room was filling with light and color, and... life. And it was all because of one thing.Me.I took another step forward, and my fingers brushed the carved wood of the doorway. I didn’t mean to linger, but I couldn’t move either. I just stood there, watching them hang more garlands, wheel in golden carts of wine, fix little crystals along the chandelier chains. My name was being whispered from one end to another. They called it a banquet. A welcome party. Something about formalities and honor and presenting me properly to the Kingdom.I couldn’t believe it.Was this all really for me?Me?I didn’t know how to feel. I wasn’t used to th

Natasha's POVThe slap echoed in my ears long after the sound faded.I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My body was still frozen from the moment he stepped in front of me, from the way his voice had cracked through the air like thunder, from the fire in his eyes when he looked at Ashley.And then, the way he looked at me.Like I was worth something.Like I wasn’t just some girl in borrowed clothes standing in a hallway too grand for her shadow.For a second, something bloomed in my chest. I didn’t name it. Didn’t dare. But it was there. Quiet and warm. The feeling that maybe I wasn’t as invisible as I’d thought. Important maybe. "Come with me!"His voice pulled me back, sharp again. Still full of that same heat, but not the soft kind. Not the one I wanted to feel.I followed.His grip wasn’t tight, but it wasn’t gentle either. He didn’t look back once. Just stormed ahead, dragging me down two corridors and through a door I hadn’t noticed before. A study maybe. Or a waiting room. I didn’t hav

Natasha’s POVEverything looked perfect on the outside. The lights. The glitter. The clinking of wine glasses. The soft music from the corner of the hall floated lazily around the chandeliers. Every flower was placed exactly where it should be. Every ribbon matched. Every smile was wide enough to pass.But something felt wrong.I stood in the middle of it all, dressed in silk I couldn’t afford in my past life, hair pinned like a crown I hadn’t earned, face painted to look like I belonged. And yet… I didn’t.People walked past me, murmuring their greetings. Their bows were shallow. Their eyes were quick to turn away. Their lips didn’t quite match the shape of their words. Even the compliments felt too polished, like glass held too tightly in the hand, waiting to cut.I smiled too. Because what else could I do?I kept turning my head, hoping to find Lucien’s eyes in the crowd, but he wasn’t there. Not anymore. I saw him when the party first started. He stood by the stairway, tall and qu

Natasha’s POVMy phone was lying right there beside me on the bed, screen still lit with my mum’s contact photo and that long-distance signal bar blinking weakly. The call had been on for over twenty minutes, and not once had she dropped her voice since I picked."Who leaves their bride on the altar and walks away? Where is it done?!" she snapped again, her voice rising sharp and heavy, like she was standing right in my room, arms folded with her scarf halfway off her shoulder.I sighed, pressing the base of my palm against my forehead and shifting where I sat. My back was against the headboard, legs pulled close to my chest. "Mum, calm down. Just calm down, please," I whispered.She wasn’t listening. She never did when she was angry or worried. And right now, she was both."Calm down? How can I calm down? Do you know how many people are calling me. Did you see what people are saying about you on Facebook? Twitter? Instagram? They’re dragging you like you’re—"I sniffed and reached fo