Lahat ng Kabanata ng Bound To The Cursed Lycan : Kabanata 161 - Kabanata 170

THEODOSA.I stopped mid-chew.The fork was still halfway to my mouth when the words landed. I had to force myself to swallow what was already there before I could even look at him properly.Xahen sat across from me like he hadn’t just rewritten the next few days of my life.“I’ll take him back to Duskmire myself,” he said. “He’s owed retribution for everything he’s caused. The ships. The men. All of it. I’ll go to his home and collect what’s due.”I set the fork down. My mind turned it over slowly. This was probably the best version of events I could’ve hoped for. Binny alive. Binny going home. And if Xahen meant the rest of it, then I was going home too.My heart kicked hard against my ribs. I tried to keep the anticipation from showing on my face and failed a little. Duskmire. The docks. Pippa. I could already picture the way she’d look when she saw me—eyes wide, then filling, then furious in that sister way that always came with the tightest hugs. I’d tell her everything. The b

XAHEN. I leaned against the railing of the watch house with both forearms braced on the wood and watched the ship get loaded below. Crates. Rope. Men moving with the kind of efficiency that only showed up when the trip mattered. The vessel bound for Duskmire sat heavy in the water, almost ready. I kept my eyes on it and tried not to think too hard about the conversation waiting behind me. Yesterday Bascal had handed me the worst news I’d gotten in a long time. I wasn’t built for dramatics. Never had been. But this particular piece of information had the hair on the back of my neck standing up and refusing to lie back down. The problems with Theodosa and the wolf were weighty enough. Recurrent. A permanent thorn. Finding out the decay from the Unders was spreading through the realm made those problems look almost manageable by comparison. My own life could be forfeit. Fine. I’d made peace with worse odds. But the lives under my protection? Over a thousand souls with nowhere lef

THEODOSA.I woke up slowly.My limbs felt better rested than they had in weeks. I stirred, dropped one hand against the mattress, and shifted under sheets that were far too plush and a comforter that felt like the softest thing I’d ever touched. That was the first detail that set me on edge.I blinked my eyes open and stared at the ceiling above me. The thrum in my chest was vibrant, achy, and heavily aware. The smell surrounding me was rich and musky—forest air tainted with something darker. I sat up like a zombie, movements robotic and slow, and the pieces clicked into one possible truth.I took in the familiar room. My suspicions confirmed themselves without mercy.I was in Xahen’s cabin. In his bedroom. In his bed.Confusion settled over me the same way it had for most of the last week—thick, persistent, and completely unwilling to leave. I was already living a life where I spent most of my time at a loss, but I was one hundred percent certain I had gone to sleep in my own bed las

THEODOSA.“There it is,” he muttered. “The truth. You can hate me and still take my fingers like you need them. You can call me a tyrant and still get wetter every time I push deeper.”I reached down and shoved his pants open, wrapping my hand around the thick length of him. He was scorching, heavy, already leaking. I stroked once, hard, and watched his jaw clench.“You can call me a problem,” I said, voice shaking with the dual sensation, “and still fuck my hand like you’ve been dying for it. Don’t talk to me about truth.”He snarled and kissed me again, fingers still working inside me, my hand still stroking him. We stayed like that for a stretch of time that felt endless—kissing, touching, arguing in broken pieces whenever one of us could get enough air.At some point he pulled away completely and took three steps back, hands braced on his hips, head down, cock hard and glistening from my hand. I stayed sitting on the edge of the table, legs still open, chest heaving, watchin

THEODOSA.I was in my room at the nursery trying to pack when Nala appeared in the doorway.She didn’t knock. She just leaned against the frame with her arms crossed and watched me fold the same pair of black leggings for the third time like the fabric might eventually give me answers. I kept my eyes on the duffle. Talking about recent events with Xahen felt like stepping onto ice that hadn’t finished freezing, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear whatever version of the truth she might decide to offer.“So,” she said after a stretch of quiet. “You’re actually going.”“Looks like it.”“And the thing with Xahen?”My hands stilled on the leather. The most recent collision with him rose up without permission—the kitchen counter, the hallway wall, the bed, the way we’d gone at each other like the only two settings we had were hate and hunger. What was wrong with us? Why was it always tear-your-clothes-off intensity the second we got too close? Was it really that difficult to remember protec