A Deal With The Lycan King のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Saeris couldn’t breathe.The Great Hall of the Greenvale Pack was silent … eerily so. The kind of silence that hollowed your chest and made your ribs feel too tight for your lungs.Hundreds of eyes were fixed on the stone dais at the front of the chamber, on the male standing tall beneath the ceremonial lights, Alpha Flynn Wolfgar. The male who’d once sworn the stars would never be bright enough to match the light she brought into his life.And yet, his hand was not extended toward her.It was Gemma Frost who stood there now. Smiling. Radiant. Her fiery russet hair…like red maple leaves in golden hour."Mate," Flynn breathed, that one word, quiet and reverent, split Saeris’ world in half.‘Sirius,’ she called into the dark hollows of her mind, reaching for her wolf. But there was nothing.For two years, they’d known Flynn was theirs. Felt it in their bones. Her twenty-first birthday had come and gone two weeks ago, and tonight, the sacred night of the Mating Ceremony, was supposed to

Everything about the male radiated sensual grace and ease.Even slick with sweat, his slightly tanned skin glowed silver beneath the moonlight. Raven-black hair spilled across his brow in careless waves. But it was his eyes— the same ones she'd seen in the beast that had loomed over her at Silver Cove, only they weren't glowing now.Saeris’s breath hitched. She stepped back, instinct scraping against bone.A Lycan. Damn her luck.That explained a lot. Even the worst of pack wolves knew better than to cross one. And those three had scattered like cowards because of him…“There always seem to be males like that,” he said, his voice low and velvety. “Wolves who mistake vulnerability for invitation.”His eyes tracked her…down to her feet. Bare, torn, and bloodied.“They don’t look like celebration wounds,” he mused. “What were you running from?”Saeris didn’t answer. Didn’t owe him one.But her gaze caught on his chest, how the fabric clung like a second skin, how nothing about him (nothi

Saeris swallowed. Black button-down rolled at the sleeves, dark jeans fitted far too well for sanity … Mother boil her! … he was a casual devastation. Her stomach tightened. Not in fear. That would’ve been easier to admit. How did he know where she lived? Better yet—how long had he known? “Who is it?” Ianthe’s voice floated in from behind. "You need me to—" Her voice died the moment her gaze landed on him. Her friend’s eyes widened, awe slipping past her usually sharp composure. “Holy Mother Moon…” she whispered. There was no power radiating off him. No dominant pulse of energy screaming Lycan. He’d hidden it well, reeled it in so carefully that to anyone else, he might seem just another wolf male. But even muted, Vaelen was… undeniable. His presence alone whispered more. More strength. More danger. More control than any wolf in their pack could ever hope to possess. Ianthe glanced between them, saw the way Saeris’

“That scowl,” Vaelen murmured, not bothering to lift his gaze, “will ruin my reputation. Everyone already thinks I’m wicked, at least let them believe you’re enjoying this.” The audacity. “Fortunately,” she said coolly, refusing to glance even once at the male seated across from her. Because he was watching her. Had been, she was certain of it, even while pretending to scribble notes into the margins of some pack treaty or contract or whatever it was he'd pulled from his coat the moment they’d left. “I’m not.” “Shame. I had high hopes for a dramatic exit.” She had too. Might deny it now, but had hoped Flynn had fought for her. Not let her go … but she had walked into this choice. And part of her knew she would make the wrong one. Vaelen finally looked up and gods—his eyes. She’ll never get used to them. “Scared?” he asked. “No.” Her voice didn’t tremble. She made sure of it.

“I can sense your disdain.” Saeris didn’t answer. Not right away. She was standing with her back to the window. The view behind her had lost its luster hours ago … When she first saw it, she hadn’t breathed. Not really. The mountains were the first to steal it from her. Towering, jagged, snow-dusted peaks, more vast and savage than anything she’d ever seen. Not the tame hills near Greenvale. Not the soft-bellied woods or gentle river bends of the South. This… this was a city carved by war and ice and time. A terrain that dared her to survive it. …the vastness of this place, its city, its power, its endless sprawl across the river … it was beautiful. But she was long past awe. Right now, all of her attention was drilling into the man before her. Six hours had crawled by since the sun-kissed woman left her alone. Six hours of silence, of pacing, of lying in that ridiculously soft bed. And then—he’d shown up. “I want