All Chapters of Traded to the Lycan King After Rejection: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Veya POVThe head guard stood a few steps away, his face carved from stone, his hawk eyes instantly assessing guilt.The three concubines bowed their heads with syrupy smiles, all grace, and deceit.“We were merely offering these two girls some wise advice,” the red-dressed concubine crooned, her smile soft and sweet like a spring blossom.“Exactly,” the blue-dressed one added with a prim nod. “Servants must learn proper etiquette.”Irine and I exchanged a look.The head guard didn’t buy a single word. Not with that stone-carved expression of his. He was holding a black lacquered box marked with an embossed golden wolf head—Rael’s personal crest. On top of the box lay a letter sealed with the king's red royal wax.The concubines froze. Their eyes lit up with greedy anticipation.“Oh, it must be for me,” the red one purred confidently. “His Majesty loves sending me gifts.”“Or me,” the blue one said, tapping her chest with fake modesty.“Maybe it’s an invitation to dinner,” the yellow-

Veya POVKing Rael pulled me into a crushing embrace, as if he meant to press his bones into mine, and then he kissed me so deep. It wasn’t a gentle farewell. It was a claim.“I’ll return,” he murmured against my ear.A magic circle flared to life on the chamber floor. Silver light licked the walls, alive and hungry. Before I could form a single word, he vanished into the vortex of light.Silence swallowed the room.I stood frozen beside the bed for far too long, my fingers still curled around empty air. His scent lingered, heavy and intimate. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.He didn’t even stay the night.I hated what came after. The ache. The hollow quiet that slipped into my chest and made me realize how deeply he had already rooted himself in my life.I rubbed my face, letting out a small, humorless laugh.In the corner of the room, the large black box the servants had brought earlier still sat open. Clothes folded with careful precision. I crouched to close it—and then my gaze

Veya POVThe air along the borderlands shuddered with the whisper of steel and the thunder of marching boots. War tents stood in rows, silent witnesses to the chaos waiting to be unleashed.Irine appeared with unsteady steps. Her face was pale, like wax on the verge of melting. In her trembling hand, a small bottle shimmered beneath the firelight, filled with a dark crimson liquid.A single drop of Veya’s blood—stolen in secret, exactly as I had ordered.Fear radiated from her, seeping through every movement and every shaky breath she took.“Mercy… please, Your Majesty…” Irine’s voice cracked. Her body trembled as tears spilled freely down her cheeks.I watched her with open disgust. My exhale came heavy, like stone striking earth.“Put the bottle here, or I will make sure you regret it.”Irine staggered, her sobs growing louder. “I—I couldn’t make Veya drink it. I’m her only friend. I won’t betray her.”I drew a slow breath, my blood heating at the mere thought of Veya.My body burne

Veya POVLast night’s heated dream still clung to my skin like a sin that refused to be washed away.I woke up gasping, thighs damp, my heart pounding wildly as if King Rael had truly been between my legs all night.I covered my face with both hands, cursing myself.When I finally rose, the sun was already high, its light slipping through the sheer curtains of the northern pavilion. Thank the Moon Goddess, this place lay far from the palace’s chaos. The concubines never dared come here—it was the king’s territory.I grabbed a towel, stepped into the bathroom, and let warm water cascade over my body.It flowed between my breasts, down my stomach, and ended at the sensitive place that still throbbed with quiet shame.I bit my lip, stifling an embarrassing moan. Just remembering last night’s dream was enough to turn me into a woman starving for touch.After bathing, I slipped into a simple blue dress. My long brown hair was still half damp as I stepped outside.My stride halted in the m

Veya POVI wear my favored status like a shield.Not pride, more like a survival pass.Every morning, I attend the noble academy. I sit straight on wooden benches that are far too hard, swallowing political theory until my temples throb.So far, I’ve been diligent—taking notes, memorizing, and studying the nobles in my class. I imitate the way they cross their legs without seeming arrogant. The slight lift of the chin when debating. The precise pause before answering—a silence sharpened into a weapon.To me, knowledge is the only way a lowborn woman like me can survive.When the final bell rings, I let out a long breath. My aching hands and overheated mind finally ease.“Getting something to snack on this afternoon sounds nice.”I step through the school gates, my smile freezing at the corner of my lips when the scent of cinnamon slams into my senses.A man dressed entirely in black stands leaning against the stone wall. I can’t see his face. Black cloth covers half of it, leaving onl