บททั้งหมดของ The Lycan King’s Broken Mate: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Nyra The garden’s warmth wrapped around me. Sunlight washed away the shadows of my past, the wind played gently in the leaves, and the birdsong mingled with the sweet perfume of flowers. I sat barefoot in the grass, the green blades sliding between my toes, the earth soft beneath my soles. Every sense of mine drank it in greedily, as though I had been starving for this miracle all my life without ever knowing it existed.Shyly, I lifted my eyes to him, then back down to the grass. My voice came out rough, not with fear, but with curiosity.“Is it always this peaceful here?”He sat nearby, resting an arm across his knee, watching me. At my question his expression softened, and his smile was quiet, honest.“Not always. Sometimes storms come. The wind tears the leaves from the trees. But the storm passes. And the garden always comes back to life. Always.”I listened, his words sinking deep. My own life had felt like an endless storm. I had never believed that silence might follow. Yet h

NyraThe wooden door opened softly, almost apologetically. The warmth of the room was touched by the scents of the outside world: blood, earth, forest. My stomach clenched at the smells, but my eyes locked instantly on the figure in the doorway.It was him. Aedan.His movements were weary, yet he carried himself with such unyielding strength it seemed nothing in this world could bend him. His cloak hung ragged from his shoulders, the fresh bandage at his side faintly stained through his black clothes. And his eyes… those deep, golden eyes sought only me. With a single glance, they gave me enough strength to believe something I had long buried: that I was not alone.My heart thundered so hard I could hear it in my ears. I didn’t think—I simply stepped toward him. I needed to feel he was real, that he was alive—not just the bond humming in my chest, but flesh and breath standing before me.The guards silently withdrew, leaving us space. They knew this moment belonged to no one else.I w

Dawn crept slowly, cautiously through the cracks of the room. Thin lines of light turned into golden dust as they touched the stone and the floor. In the silence, every sound carried weight: the final crackle of embers in the fireplace, the faint whisper of the curtain in the breeze, the first birdsong outside. The air was fresh, rich with dew, earth, and flowers—as if the world itself were celebrating the birth of a new day.My eyes opened slowly, but I remained still for several moments. I lay there, wrapped in the warmth of the blanket, listening to the quiet trill of birds and the steady beat of my heart. It was not racing. It was not choked by panic, nor pierced by anxiety. It simply beat. Steady, slow—at peace.When I shifted, I felt the soft cloak draped over my shoulders. It wasn’t mine—Aedan had placed it there the night before, when sleep finally claimed me. My chest tightened at the memory. His embrace, his words, his patience… they pulsed within me as though etched beneath

NyraThe clearing’s silence, which only moments ago had carried the hushed song of the stars, suddenly filled with life. The lycan warriors, who had been watching us respectfully from a distance, moved as one. It was as if some hidden mechanism had stirred awake around me: silent hand signs, precise, disciplined motions—every one of them sharp with alertness.I watched in awe as a camp seemed to grow out of nothing. Tents rose from the earth, heavy dark-red canvas stretched taut, the stakes sinking seamlessly into the ground. Torches flared, casting orange light across the trunks, filling the air with the scent of resin and smoke. At the center, a fire was built, branches gathered, and the crackling flames began to fill the night with the sound of warmth.I stood, pulling my cloak tighter around me, and something unfamiliar stirred in my chest: safety.This wasn’t a place where people gathered to humiliate me. Not where approaching footsteps meant another blow. It was a place where so

NyraThe night was heavy, as if every shadow of the forest pressed down on me. The stars barely pierced through the canopy, only the fire’s embers gave a flickering glow. The camp rested in silence around me. Most of the Lycans had sunk into deep sleep, their steady breaths melting into the night’s hush. I too had been asleep, wrapped in the blanket’s warmth, close to Aedan, my chest finally rising and falling in peace.But something stirred within me.At first it was only a tremor, as if the darkness itself had whispered. A faint sound, almost unreal, yet it cut into me. Then rustles. Soft movements in the grass—noises another might dismiss as dream-born. But I knew better. My eyes snapped open, my heart hammering wildly, my body tense. I heard them. Stealthy steps at the edge of the camp, shapes slinking through the trees.I froze. The world around me seemed calm, but my ears did not lie. Something was coming. My breath hitched as I fought the rising fear, and with trembling hand I