All Chapters of The Lycan King's Forbidden Human Mate: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

​"Thank you, come again,” I said with a weary smile, waving goodbye to the last customer of the day.​As the heavy glass door swung shut with a soft chime, the mask slipped. The exhaustion I’d been holding at bay all afternoon finally crashed over me. It curled into my muscles, turning every step into a small battle. My feet throbbed in my cheap work shoes, a dull ache that reminded me I had another double shift coming up tomorrow.​I flipped the sign on the glass door to CLOSED, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.​Cling-ling.​I winced, turning around ready to tell a straggler we were closed. But it was just Eliza, my best friend, leaning against the doorframe with a tired grin stretching across her face.​“Damn, I am beat,” she groaned, pushing a lock of stray hair behind her ear as she stepped inside. She looked how I felt—worn out, overworked, and underpaid.​I smiled, the kind of genuine smile that only she could inspire. “Thank you for staying,” I said, sinc

I didn't stop running until I was inside my room.​I slammed the door shut and twisted the lock. Click.​It wasn't enough. It was never enough.​I grabbed the heavy oak chair from my desk and jammed it under the doorknob, wedging the legs against the floorboards. My hands shook so violently I almost dropped it, but muscle memory took over. I had done this a thousand times before. I was twenty-two years old, yet in a heartbeat, I had reverted to the terrified sixteen-year-old girl who used to build a fortress to keep the monster out.​Only then did I allow myself to breathe.​I collapsed against the wood, sliding down until I hit the floor. My lungs burned. My vision blurred with hot, angry tears that I couldn't stop.​Downstairs, the house was silent. No one had chased me. They were probably still sitting there, eating roast chicken, drinking wine, and acting like I was the crazy one.​A moment later, a soft, pathetic knock sounded on the wood right behind my head.​I flinched, curlin

The walk home felt less like a commute and more like a march to the gallows.My mind kept drifting back to the man in the bakery—the dark suit, the cerulean blue eyes, the way the word ‘Petite’ had rolled off his tongue like a caress and a threat all at once. For a few terrifying minutes, I had felt alive.Now, staring at the front door of my parents' house, I just felt dead. I wished I could go back and relive that moment with him.I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and turned the key.Click.The moment I stepped inside, I was hit by a wall of warmth and the smell of roast beef. Laughter drifted from the kitchen—light, airy, happy. It sounded like a home. It sounded like a family.It sounded like a lie.I tried to slip past the foyer and make a break for the stairs, but I wasn't fast enough."Oh! You're back!"Skylar popped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She was beaming, her face flushed with excitement, looking every bit the perfect future daughter-in-law. Her

The alarm clock blared its usual shrill tone at 5:00 AM, slicing through the darkness of my room like a knife.Usually, this sound triggered a panic response. It meant I had fifteen minutes to shower, dress, and run to the bakery to start the dough for the morning rush. It meant another day of servitude to Thomas Vale, working off a debt that he never intended to let me repay. It was a normal routine I had grown accustomed to.But today, I didn't flinch.I stared at the glowing red numbers in the dark.Five hours.That was all I had left. Five hours until the black limousine arrived at 10:00 AM. Five hours until I was free.I reached over and slapped the off button, silencing the noise."Not today," I whispered into the pillow, a small, victorious smile touching my lips.I rolled over, pulled the duvet up to my chin, and went back to sleep.When I finally woke up, sunlight was slipping bold fingers through the curtains. It was 8:30 AM.I stretched, my bones cracking. For the first tim

I turned to head up the stairs, my heart pounding in my ears. I was shaking, but for the first time in my life, I felt light. The secret was out. The poison was drained. "Wait." The voice was barely a whisper, but it stopped me cold. I turned back. Skylar was standing in the middle of the room, her face pale as a sheet. She was looking between Tyler and me, her eyes wide with horror. "Don't listen to her, babe," Tyler said quickly, stepping toward her with a nervous laugh. He reached for her arm, desperation clawing at his voice. "She's lying. She's just crazy. You know how she is." Skylar flinched away from his touch like he was radioactive. "Did you?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Did you assault her?" "Of course not! She's making it up for attention!" "She has a scar, Tyler," Skylar whispered. She looked at my mother, who was refusing to meet anyon