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Home / Werewolf / The Lycan’s Fated Mate / Kabanata 151 - Kabanata 160

Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Lycan’s Fated Mate: Kabanata 151 - Kabanata 160

197 Kabanata

Chapter 151 — Engraved in the Monster’s Soul

Dmitry remained motionless for long seconds, as if he feared that if he pulled away, all of it would turn out to be nothing more than a feverish delirium, a mirage.His massive chest heaved against her back, hot and heavy, and his snout brushed gently against her nape, inhaling with devotion that scent he already recognized as his most absolute necessity.With a lazy, possessive movement, he turned her onto her side, pulling her against him, fitting her into his fur-covered chest, protecting, sealing, marking her without the need to sink teeth or claws.He ran one of his sharp claws with absurd delicacy along the line of her jaw, gently lifting her chin so she would look at him.The wild blue eyes stared into hers, and the Lycan, despite being colossal and monstrous, seemed almost vulnerable in that instant.“You marked me,” he murmured, his voice thick and hoarse. “Not here…” He ran the claw lightly over her shoulder, where there was no longer a bite. “Nor here…” And he touched the c

Chapter 152 — The Consequence and the Oath

The breakfast table was set with a rustic sophistication, faithful to the ancient Lycan traditions. Everything was served on handcrafted ceramic dishes decorated with tribal symbols of the Founding Houses.Fresh fruits, dark breads made with wild grains, smoked cheeses, eggs with herbs, and Russian black tea completed the scene, filling the air with an almost instinctive power.Susan wore a long dress of raw linen and dyed leather, with hand-embroidered details in the pattern of the Rurik. A direct allusion to Dmitry’s house lineage, but also a symbol of the female’s acceptance into the pack. The dress hugged her curves with firmness and pride, revealing not submission, but strength.Dmitry wore a black tunic of thick fabric, partially open at the chest, with a wide leather belt adorned with the Rurik emblem in silver. He looked more like an ancestral warrior than the CEO of an international company.Between one sip of tea and another, Dmitry watched Susan. Not with disguised desire —

Chapter 153 — The Echo of Ancient Legends

That same afternoon.The doors opened with a controlled boom, echoing through the ancestral columns of the hall. Dmitry Rurik entered first, imposing as a king from forgotten eras.His tunic was dark, with details in raw leather and embroidery that evoked the clan’s symbology. Simple, yet laden with power. He came unarmed, but his presence was threat itself.Beside him, Susan walked with the same firmness. She wore a long cloak of deep wine, with black leather fastenings crossed over her shoulders and waist.Her hair was bound by dark threads interwoven with small metallic pendants, as if every step she took was a silent reverence to the tradition she now challenged. The ancestrality of the Lycan instinct manifested there, in the firm silence, in the contained respect, in the war about to emerge.The eyes of dozens of leaders turned toward them, seated in a semicircle, representing each House, each territory, each ambition.To Dmitry’s right, Alexei leaned against one of the black col

Chapter 154 — The Night of the Red Moon

Zimorodok Valley – Night of the Red Moon. Ceremonial Chamber of the BridesThe walls of living stone carried the cold of the mountain, but the ceremonial chamber was warmed by fragrant embers and dried herbs arranged in copper bowls that released a bluish smoke into the air.Dark linen curtains stirred gently with the wind slipping through the cracks of the tall windows. Outside, the moon, now stained a deep red, rose in the sky like an omen.Susan stood before an ancient mirror, dressed in a ceremonial robe made of thin, translucent layers of black and silver linen. Her hair was loose, gently wavy, adorned with small black feathers and silver threads.The birthmark on her rib, usually discreet, was burning. As if something inside her was awakening.Behind her, the three maids who had accompanied her since her arrival at the Rurik Mansion — Ekaterina, Tânia, and Lena — made the final adjustments to the ceremonial attire.Although they were Lycans, they had become loyal to Susan from t

Chapter 155 — The Bond of the Eternal Night

Susan’s voice echoed like a thin blade, cutting the ritual in two halves: what had been planned… and what was about to happen.For an instant, time froze. No Oracle answered. No elder moved. Not even the wind dared interfere.The Lycan blood of the Alpha roared, but not with typical fury. It roared with a primitive, unconscious, ancestral fear. Because the Lycan inside him knew what she was. And even being an Alpha, even being a predator, Dmitry stood before something he could not dominate.And he knew it. She was not asking for submission. She was asking for fidelity in its rawest form: one soul fused to the other, through death and rebirth.Dmitry took a step forward. His blue eyes, until then cold as steel, now burned with a silver flame. He was not merely a man. Nor merely a werewolf. He was the link. The chosen one.His fingers touched hers, and the contact alone was enough for the embers around them to explode into black flames. The altar trembled. The earth shuddered.The Oracl

Chapter 156 — The Daughter of Death, the Son of Fury

The celebration continued in the clearing, but Dmitry and Susan had not been seen since the end of the union ritual.In the center of the stone circle, the Alphas were gathered around the sacred bonfire, a symbol of neutrality and secrecy.None of their eyes carried the lightness of a newly consummated wedding. On the contrary: tension and fear pulsed in the air like electricity about to snap.Ivan Volkov was the first to break the silence:“We all knew she was a descendant of Morrigan. That alone would have been dangerous enough. But a direct daughter of the Goddess?” His voice carried the weight of steel and the contained fury of the Urals. “This surpasses all prophecies.”Irina Vasiliev, arms crossed, her eyes narrowed toward the flames, responded firmly:“Dmitry has united his essence with hers. He has sealed a pact with divine chaos itself. The Goddess of Death now has access to the heart of our world. This is not something that can be controlled with politics.”But her posture w

Chapter 157 — Between Poison and Ecstasy

The darkness of the chalet was soft, broken only by the amber glow of the fireplace.The ancient wood of the walls exhaled the aroma of burnt oak and damp moss. Outside, the forest vibrated with the nocturnal chants of the Lycans in celebration, but there, inside the nuptial chambers, time seemed folded in on itself.Dmitry sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his thick thighs, breathing heavy as if he had just returned from a hunt. Sweat clung his shirt to his chest, and his muscles trembled. Not from exhaustion, but from something far more primitive. Something that boiled inside.Something that was being reborn.The heat rose up his spine like liquid fire, pulsing in his blood. Each heartbeat sounded like thunder inside his chest. He tried to rationalize. To control it. But control was an illusion now.“She is remaking us, Dmitry.”The voice emerged from within. Deep, drawn-out, with that hoarse tone that mixed hunger and adoration.“You feel it? This fever… This fucking co

Chapter 158 — The Creation of a God

Their bodies intertwined with the sweet violence of something destined to happen since the origin of time.Susan rode Dmitry with a sacred hunger, as if every thrust was an offering to the ancient gods.Her full breasts swayed with each movement, her reddish hair stuck to her sweaty skin, her green eyes glazed and locked on his with adoration and dominance. She was the flame, and he… He burned without asking for mercy.Dmitry held her thighs with force, fingers digging into the soft flesh, feeling every ripple of her body. His hips responded with cruel precision, burying himself deep, drawing raw moans of pleasure from both of them.“Damn, Susan… You’re going to kill me,” he growled between his teeth, fangs exposed, body tense.She laughed. A hoarse sound, wet with pleasure.“Die with me, Dmitry. Be reborn with me.”“SHE IS A STORM. A damn storm made just for us. I want to cum until my soul with her… rip the time out of the world and fuck until the universe bows.”The heat enveloping

Chapter 159 — The Judgment of the Sacred

The great sacred hall was silent, except for the subtle sounds of utensils being arranged on the long table of ancestral wood. The smell of breakfast was strong. Smoked meat, fresh bread, wild honey, fruits from the valley, but even these aromas seemed timid in the face of the presence that had just crossed the doors.Dmitry entered first.The black cloak with silver edges that he wore did not hide his newly transformed body. His aura seemed larger, denser. As if the very structure of the hall had to adapt to him.With each step, the other Lycans fell silent. Some merely looked away. Others stared openly, as if witnessing something that should never have been seen.Susan came right behind him.Her reddish hair was loose, falling like living flames over her shoulders. She wore a simple cream tunic tied at the waist, but her body radiated something almost ethereal. Her skin still warm, her green eyes more intense, and that new scent… subtle, sweet, with a note of origin and promise that

Chapter 160 — The Son of the Lycan and the Goddess

In the quiet after the storm, alliances began to redraw themselves in silence. Some of the oldest Alphas, men and women who had witnessed ancient pacts being broken and rewritten over the centuries, exchanged glances. Not of shock, but of calculation. Tradition had been violated, yes, but what had emerged from it was more powerful than any ceremony.The Alpha of Clan Volkov, with his perpetually sober expression, was the first to rise.“Dmitry Rurik…” he said, his voice grave. “The new blood boils… But it is the ancient blood that recognizes it.”Then, without haste, he knelt briefly with his head lowered, as one who pays homage to a new sovereign, not only to the man, but to what he had become. Others followed. Some hesitant. Others, fearing more than honoring.But not all bowed.The Romanov clan, wounded and humiliated, retreated slowly, their eyes blazing with promises of silenced vengeance. There was anger in the air, but also an ancestral fear. Because what had happened there cou

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