Todos los capítulos de The Lycan’s Fated Mate: Capítulo 81 - Capítulo 90

Susan descended the marble steps beside Dmitry, their fingers intertwined. The mansion seemed to breathe along with her — the silence was heavy, not from oppression, but from respect. She felt the eyes of the house on her, or perhaps they were the eyes of those watching her from a distance.At the foot of the stairs, Alexei was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, that lazy smile on his lips, but his eyes sharp as blades. Beside him, Sasha was fiddling with his phone but looked up as soon as he saw them. And there, standing near an armchair, was Carla.Carla had her arms crossed, her face pale and drawn, the deep dark circles under her eyes revealing sleepless nights. When she saw Susan, relief mixed with fear in her gaze.“Susan!” Carla moved forward, her voice breaking, and hugged her tightly. “My God, I… I was dying of worry!”Susan sank into her friend’s embrace, closing her eyes for a moment, feeling the familiar warmth she so desperately needed. But she also felt it: Carla tre

In the luxurious bedroom of the Kovalenko mansion, Natália threw pieces of clothing into the suitcase with quick, almost furious movements. The zipper scraped against the silence, interrupted only by the muffled sound of her short breathing.She had been kicked out of her own home with a simple and direct message: “The Kovalenko clan has a new agreement with the Ruriks. Take your stain of betrayal far away from us.”The phone on speaker was on the dresser, from where the cold and bitter voice of Ksenia Romanov, one of Yelena’s sisters, echoed through the room.“You understand what this means, don’t you, Natália?” Ksenia’s voice came through fragmented but loaded with contained fury. “The Chosen of Morrigan. That… filthy human, now crowned as something untouchable! My sister is dead, and everyone closes their eyes because they’re afraid of a profane Goddess!”Natália stopped, took a deep breath, and adjusted a silk scarf over the pile of clothes.“Believe me, Ksenia, I understand bette

Unbuttoning the black pleated skirt she was wearing, he removed it at the same time as he trailed kisses down her delicate neck, his teeth lightly grazing her skin.His large hands slid up her thighs, and as he lifted the white tank top, he exposed her breasts without ceremony.“Malyshka… (Little one…) Fuck… These tits are divine work. So big… so soft… so mine.” Dmitry murmured in a hoarse voice, his eyes glowing with a supernatural blue.“Ours. This entire body is ours. The scent, the taste, the skin… Fuck, it will never be enough.”Susan smiled, feeling her face flush.“Dmitry… You look at me like you’re going to devour me.”“Not ‘like’, malyshka (little one). I am going to devour you. Until you beg me to stop.” He growled hungrily, his mouth claiming one of her nipples.Susan gasped, arching against him, her fingers sinking into his silky white hair. Dmitry slid his right arm behind her waist, pulling her even closer.The hot sensation of his mouth, the light bites and sucks on her

Alexei crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe with that half-cynical smile on his face.“Venice… Look, I’m even a little jealous. Less because of the impending chaos, more because of the wine and the elegant disguises.” He cast a quick glance at Sasha. “You’re going to leave our favorite witch without a bodyguard?”Dmitry slowly raised his gaze, fixing Alexei with intensity.“You stay with Susan. Keep everything in order here. And, Alexei…” He tilted his head. “No theatrics. No jokes. No excesses.”“Me?” Alexei opened his hands, feigning offense. “Dmitry, I am the definition of self-control.”Sasha let out a short laugh while checking his phone.“Definitely not.” He was already moving toward the door, grabbing his jacket. “I’m leaving today. The sooner we know what’s coming out of the borders, the better.”“Keep in touch,” Dmitry said firmly. “Any sign of mutation, anything out of the ordinary, let me know. Don’t play hero.”“Rest easy, boss.” Sasha smiled sideways, but there

Rurik Mansion – South Wing11:43 a.m.The corridor leading to the most isolated wing of the mansion seemed to breathe with the walls. The silence there was different. Thick, respectful, almost sacred. Susan followed Alexei in silence, her steps muffled by the embroidered carpet that stretched like a trail through locked memories.“Are you sure Dmitry won’t mind?” she asked, hesitant.Alexei cast a crooked smile over his shoulder.“Dmitry minds the sound of his own breathing sometimes. But what he doesn’t know…” He pushed open the heavy dark wooden door. “Can’t hurt as much as the truth he insists on burying.”The room was large and quiet. The half-open windows let in a cold breeze that gently swayed the linen curtains. In the center, the imposing figure of Anatolie Rurik rested on an adapted hospital bed. He breathed through machines, but his countenance was serene. Strong. As if even unconscious, he fought with dignity.Susan approached slowly.“He looks… so alive,” she murmured.“He