Semua Bab The Lycan’s Fated Mate: Bab 171 - Bab 180

Downstairs, Dmitry was already in the office. The soft light filtered through the curtains, dancing over the piles of documents.Signing civil papers seemed ridiculous in the face of the immensity of what had happened the night before. But Dmitry knew: the human world also needed seals, signatures, formalities. He would do it all. He would leave no gaps. Susan would be recognized as his wife on every level: human, Lycan, and divine.“She is mine. Wife by blood, soul, and moon. Now, also in the eyes of the law. Let there be no doubt, not even in the mortal realm.”He held the pen when the small intercom on the corner of the desk lit up, followed by the firm voice of one of the mansion’s security guards:“Alpha Rurik, this is Dmitriov from external surveillance. We have movement at the east gate. Recognition confirms: these are the vehicles of the Lycan Council elders. About ten cars. They are descending in formation.”Dmitry paused for a moment. His gaze darkened.“They arrived sooner

The great hall of the Rurik mansion had been transformed.Ritualistic torches burned in obsidian holders. Bands of black and silver velvet hung from the ceiling, intertwined with enchanted branches that bloomed under the influence of the moon, even with the sky covered. Among the stained-glass windows, ancestral enchantments flowed in faint lines of light, reverberating the call of the night in broad daylight.There stood the representatives of the most powerful clans in the Lycan world. Men and women of ancient power.Alphas, matriarchs, shamans. Children of blood and earth.In the center, a circular altar of living stone, carved with the symbols of the lineages, awaited her. Dmitry, already positioned on a higher step, wore the sacred colors of his clan.His pale skin bathed in the subtle divine golden glow reflected the power that was now impossible to hide. His eyes were the very call of war and order, but beside him, it was love that pulsed stronger.Alexei stood beside him, impo

Carla was still lying wrapped in his arms, her fingers lazily drawing invisible lines on his collarbone. Alexei kept one arm beneath her, the other resting behind his head, but his eyes were distant… not in thought, but in perception.Inside him, the Lycan was not sleeping. It was purring. Not like a satisfied cat, but like a wolf that had finally returned to the warm cave after war.“She stayed. We knew it. We always knew. Her scent belongs to our skin. To our spirit. To the nest.”Alexei smiled, eyes closed, pulling Carla closer, his nose buried in her hair.“You’re so quiet,” she murmured. “That scares me a little.”“I’m just trying to convince my Lycan to stop spinning in circles like a happy idiot,” he laughed softly. “He thinks we just won the war.”“Because we did, you idiot. She came back. She lay here. She opened her body. Gave her heart. This is marked territory. This is eternity.”Carla lifted her face, her eyes amused.“Does your Lycan really talk like that? With that voca

In the great hall of the Rurik mansion, the Conclave was beginning to take shape.The tapestries had been raised with care, each one representing the founding clans of the Lycans: Volkov, Rurik, Dragunov, Baranov, Vasiliev, Kovalenko, and Chernov. The ancestral crests shimmered beneath the flames of the enchanted torches, which burned without consuming the air, with bluish-gray flames that danced to the rhythm of the power pulsing from the underground.In the center of the hall, the Circle of Blood and Oath was being drawn with millimetric precision by priests from different lineages. Ancient runes, made with the dust of a sleeping Alpha’s bones mixed with ritualistic blood and fragments of black silver, outlined the circle.The tables, arranged in a half-moon shape, would serve as the stage where the representatives of the clans would sit. But none of them dared treat the moment as a simple political meeting.There, reality trembled.At the top of the staircase that overlooked the en

The room was no longer a room.The walls trembled in silence, covered by a golden mist that oscillated between the material and the spiritual.The floor now pulsed like living skin. In the midst of the twilight, ancient roots that belonged to no known tree intertwined around the bed, forming the cradle of the divinity in transition.Susan lay there.Her body trembled, as if her soul were splitting into layers. Light escaped from her eyes, from her mouth, from her veins. And then… Dmitry felt it.A sudden cut in the bond. A vacuum.The pain was sharp, without a scream. His essence, intertwined with hers, recoiled like a wounded beast. Her heartbeat ceased. The warmth of her body dissipated. The Goddess had died, in order to be reborn.He fell to his knees beside the bed. Her hand was still warm, but it no longer belonged to the world of the living.“Susan…” he whispered, his voice broken, sunken in a love that did not know how to exist without her present. “I should have died with you.