All Chapters of Mated To The Lycan King Who Can’t Let Go: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Some people might call what I was doing overkill, but those people had clearly never been locked in an attic for nineteen years and force-fed wolfsbane. Overkill? I hadn't even warmed up yet. Besides—this was Kori's final performance, and I fully intended to sit front row, popcorn in hand, and watch her implode. The alpha even lent us his office, which was honestly just a polite way of saying, "Yes please, punish the gremlin child in private." Kori was already on her knees, head bowed, trembling like a busted chandelier. "Raise your head," Leviathan ordered. Oh, the royal tone. I liked that one. Kori lifted her face, blotchy and covered with fear. Evan stepped forward, his voice steel. "You tried to kill your sister by dumping her body after you somehow knocked her out in the snow. To make matters worse, you purposefully caused an avalanche the other day, putting your pack members in danger. Anything to say?" "No." Her tone was flat. "Even after being treated so well by every

The moment Leviathan offered his arm at the entrance of the banquet, I took it—because rejecting it in front of a crowd would've caused unnecessary complications for me. The hall was a cathedral of gold and marble: vaulted ceilings, chandeliers dripping crystal, polished floors reflecting so much light it felt like standing inside a gemstone. Every noble, officer, and ladder-climbing parasite in the capital was crammed together humming like bees and drinking too much wine. I stepped inside with Leviathan guiding me, and for a glorious five seconds he was an anchor. Then the crowd noticed him. "Commander! Over here—!" "We must congratulate—!" "My lord, the council—!" He looked at me like a drowning man silently begging for a some help but I let the people take him. He should speak up if he has a problem, honestly. In seconds he was swallowed by brightly dressed vultures, all tugging at his sleeves and pinning him down with all of their questions and attention. His eyes kept fli

The banquet was finally wheezing its way toward an end—thank the gods, the moon, and whatever deity handled social suffering. These people could gossip for hours. They didn't even need alcohol; rumors alone kept them drunk. And I learned a lot tonight just by standing there pretending to admire the chandelier. For example: – Several elders apparently participate in underground witch orgies. – There's a rogue fighting ring run by soldiers that roams pack territories and are close to be caught. – And every ambitious person in this capital wants something from Levi—but none of them were stupid enough to direct that desperation at me to get to him. That had to change soon. "Levi," a syrupy voice broke through the crowd. Ah. Seraphine. Freshly touched up from her earlier meltdown, it seemed. She drifted up in some new pastel dress. "I came to say hello," she said sweetly. "The council assigned lots of work lately so I've been busy." Oh, do I smell a bitter Betty? Fine, I'll play

I woke to the steady thump of a heartbeat. Soft and close. Nyx. The clinic ceiling came into focus first, then the scent—gods, her scent—sweet, sharp, dangerous, familiar in a way nothing should be. It flooded my lungs so fast I almost groaned. Heat rolled through me as fast as the fever I'd faked. Yes. Faked. Maybe I really was insane. What other king handpicked symptoms, paid off a healer, and let themselves get sick just to anchor a someone to their bedside? Who else sat for hours watching someone pretend to sleep? And she did open her eyes right as my self-control snapped. All that time I kept the act going, I didn't think I had it in me. Not the patience. Not the restraint. Not the willingness to look like a lunatic. But Nyx wasn't someone you won over with normal rules. Evan told me to stay one step ahead of her. And so far... I had. She didn't know I bribed the healer, or that when bribery didn't work I threatened his entire career and reputation in the pack until he

I couldn't stop laughing. Which was stupid, because underneath the laughter my wolf felt pissed. Hot and irrationally pissed. The kind of pissed that made my claws itch and my brain tell me to break everything in sight. I didn't even know why I felt it. Jealousy? Can't be. Annoyance? Probably. A deep desire to fling Seraphine into the nearest trash chute? Definitely. But still—I laughed. "She can even cry on cue," I said, shaking my head like I was watching a terrible stage play. "Seraphine, listen to me," Levi tried, sounding exhausted, "I don't want things to be weird with your brother, so I was nice to you. I hope you can find someone who loves you." "But... but I love you!" she bawled. "From the first time Evan brought you over to play I couldn't help but fall in love!" "I have a mate," Levi said, pointing at me like I was the world's worst bookmark. "If you get into any trouble I'll definitely help you, but other than that—you don't need to be around me." "Levi!"