All Chapters of AUCTIONED TO THE LYCAN KING: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

MAYA I went to find him because I could not sleep and the bond would not stop pulling. It had been three hours since the ceremony. Three hours since his teeth pierced my neck and our souls collided with a force that rearranged the architecture of my entire being. Three hours of sitting alone in my room feeling his emotions bleed through the bond in waves that left me breathless and aching and wanting things I was not ready to name. I needed to see him. Not to talk about the bond or the ceremony or the political implications. I just needed to be in the same room as him. The distance was becoming physical pain. A dull persistent throb behind my sternum that intensified with every minute of separation. I walked through the corridors barefoot. The white ceremony dress was gone. I wore a simple tunic and loose pants. My hair was still down. The mark on my neck throbbed with warmth that sp

MAYA I packed in the dark. There was not much to take. A few tunics. Training clothes. The boots Rhea had given me when my old ones fell apart. A small wooden comb Nora had left on my dresser weeks ago with a note that said every queen needs at least one nice thing. I held the comb for a long time. Then I put it in the bag. The mark on my neck throbbed with every movement. A constant burning reminder that the man who had betrayed me was permanently stitched into my soul. I could feel him through the bond. Still in his study. Still standing among the scattered pages of a plan that reduced me to a political instrument with an expiration date. His emotions bled through without mercy. Regret. Anguish. A desperate clawing need to come find me that he was barely holding in check. I blocked it out. Or tried to. The bond did not come with a mute butt

ETHANThe kingdom cracked down the middle in less than twelve hours.I watched it happen the way you watch a fault line split open beneath a city. Slowly at first. A whisper here. A glance there. Then all at once. Violent and irreversible.The Queen has left the palace.Six words. That was all it took to unravel months of fragile progress. Six words carried from servant to soldier to noble to council member in a chain of whispered gossip that spread through the Lycan Kingdom like wildfire through dry brush.By noon the palace corridors hummed with it. Maids clustered in doorways. Guards exchanged looks during shift changes. Kitchen staff spoke in hushed tones over steaming pots.By afternoon the nobles were celebrating.Not openly. They were too polished for that. But I could see it in their posture. The straightened spines. The satisfied glances exchanged across hallways. The subtle relaxation in shoulders that had been carrying tension since the day a wolf walked into their kingdom

MAYAI woke to the sound of organization.Not chaos. Not the frantic scrambling of refugees trying to survive another day. Organization. Structured. Purposeful. The kind of sound that meant someone had taken the mess and started turning it into something functional.I sat up in bed. My muscles protested every movement. The bandages on my knuckles had bled through overnight. Rhea's soup sat half finished on the table. I had eaten as much as my shrunken stomach allowed before passing out again.Through the window I could see the Blue Moon settlement bathed in early morning light.And Olivia. Standing in the center of it all like she had been born there.I pulled on my boots and walked outside.The transformation was staggering.Three days ago the settlement had been a loose collection of displaced survivors living in borrowed houses with no structure and no direction. People drifted through the days in a haze of trauma and uncertainty. Meals happened whenever someone remembered to cook.

MAYAThe messenger arrived during my morning session with Rhea.I was mid-strike when I heard the commotion at the edge of the training grounds. Raised voices. The scuffle of boots on packed dirt. A sharp commanding bark from one of the Lycan guards stationed at the perimeter.I lowered my fists. Rhea turned toward the noise with the practiced alertness of a woman who had spent her entire life distinguishing between inconvenience and threat within half a second.This was threat.Two guards dragged a young wolf between them. Scrawny. Mud-caked. His clothes were torn and his face was hollow with the particular exhaustion that came from running for days without rest. He could not have been older than seventeen.They threw him onto the dirt in front of me. He landed hard on his knees. His head stayed down. His breathing came in ragged gasps that shook his entire frame."Caught him at the eastern checkpoint" the senior guard said. "He was asking for the Queen by name. Refused to speak to a