All Chapters of Forced To The Beast Lycan King: His Plump Little Wolf: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

**Eirian’s Pov**He walked beside me everywhere now. It was always at a careful, respectful distance, yet close enough that the heat of his shoulder brushed mine with every step. At times, without warning, his broad hand would settle at the small of my back.I couldn't ignore his presence even if I tried, and whenever his golden eyes raked over me, searching for any sign of threat, a treacherous warmth flooded my veins and rushed straight to my cheeks. “You don't have to walk me to breakfast,” I wrote on my chalkboard as we descended the tower stairs. Four armed guards followed several steps behind us, making me feel like I had no privacy at all."I'll decide what I need, Eirian," Vorath replied, not slowing his pace.I lowered the chalkboard to my chest. There was no point arguing. His voice had been unusually edgy lately. He had changed since the morning Rurik's body was found, no longer the cold and controlled King I'd known during our early training sessions. Now, he seemed dete

**Eirian’s Pov**"The old one was starting to crack," Vorath said as he placed something wrapped in plain cloth on the table and gestured for me to open it. I looked up at him and then leaned forward, my fingers carefully unwrapping the package. I stopped as my pulse gave a sudden flutter when I saw what was inside.A chalkboard.It was lighter and more refined than the rough one he'd given me weeks ago. The frame was made from pale, polished wood, with a matching stylus resting neatly in a groove at the edge. The corners were smooth to touch, and the surface had been carefully sanded until it caught the morning light filtering through the windows."I had the craftsmen make this for you," Vorath murmured, his eyes watching my face intently. "It’s larger, so you don’t have to keep wiping away just to finish a sentence." I turned it over in my hands, running my fingers on the smooth wood.A sudden, unexpected warmth filled my chest. No one had ever given me anything like this. Through

**Serelith’s Pov**It took the better part of an hour to compose the letter. I had burned three drafts till I got the tone right. "Sympathy on the surface, poison underneath. That bunch of fools would never know what hit them.” I smiled, pleased with myself.I wrote about Cormain's attack as any concerned pack member would, expressing shock and then gratitude to the moon goddess for the Elder who narrowly escaped death. I also wrote about my concern for a pack that had been shaken by violence within its own territory.Then, delicately, I turned the story in the direction I wanted it to go.I mentioned, in passing, the timing of the attack. Elder Cormain had been attacked shortly after Eirian's ceremony, after the moonstone cracked, and the appearance of a mark one could not explain. I never accused Eirian directly. That would be too dangerous. A direct accusation would invite questions, and questions could expose me.I merely planted a thought and left others to reach their own con

**Eirian’s Pov**Vorath had warned me to steer clear of the eastern corridor, and I honestly intended to obey him by sticking to the garden and the library area until he finished his meeting.But shortly after, Nessa came rushing towards me, looking worried and almost close to tears. She was searching for her shawl. She swore she had left it drying near the eastern courtyard, but when she returned to collect it, it was gone.She looked so upset that I immediately offered to help her search. According to her, the shawl was the only precious thing her mother had given her before she died. She couldn't bear the thought of losing it. We decided to search in different directions. I took the opposite path from hers and began looking around while lost in my own thoughts. I was so focused on helping Nessa that I didn't realize how far I had wandered or how much time had passed."Eirian?"I froze, instantly recognizing the voice that came from behind me. How could I ever forget it? Slowly, I

**Vorath’s Pov**I read the letter a second time, my eyes moving slowly over every ink-stained stroke, digesting each word of regret. My jaw tightened as I continued reading, a hot and unpleasant feeling climbing my chest and settling like a heavy weight over my lungs. This was worse than I had expected. I was sitting at my desk, reading another man’s poetic confession for the woman I had married to use—the woman I had convinced myself I cared about only because she was my mate.My fingers clamped down on the parchment, the paper crinkling under my strength. Every primal instinct urged me to crush it in my palm and throw it straight into the roaring fire.Instead, I dropped the letter onto my desk. My hand remained clenched on the parchment as if I could somehow stop those words from existing."You should burn it," Kaelan said, his arms crossed, and his weight shifted onto one hip in the loose stance he always adopted when he was trying not to look as worried as he actually felt. "H