When My Mate Chose Another, the Lycan King Chose Me
My eyes flew open, and I shot up in bed, heart pounding against my ribs like it was trying to break free.
The room was dark, except for the faint glow of the moon spilling through the windows. I was drenched in sweat, breath ragged, fists still clenched. The dream faded slowly, but it left its marks, like it always did. I sat there, elbows on my knees, waiting for the tremors to pass.
The wolf stirred again.
“You’re slipping, Lucien. You can’t afford to.”
I didn’t respond. What was there to say?
He was right— and that was the scary part.