Chapter 169 Chapter 168
Lylall is the king. Lylall is the King. Lylall is the king!!!
That was all that kept replaying in Rayena's head as she paced around her room, fingers between her teeth as she gnawed on her fingernails.
Soraya sat nearby, watching her with growing concern.
"Gods, I didn't know he was the king... Why would he do such a thing?!" she whisper-screamed, staring at Soraya with despair in her eyes.
"It's really not that bad. It was just an honest mistake," Soraya tried to placate her, raising her hands. Her concern for her friend grew, seeing her panic.
"Just an honest mistake? I sent him on errands, Soraya! I walked around with him, sneaked out to see him, invited him to my room, and shoved him into my wardrobe. It’s that bad!"
Hearing the words spoken out loud made her body tremble violently. She pulled at her hair, sweating buckets, her pulse racing, disbelief and dread warring in her chest. The man she’d embroidered for, laughed with, and dreamed of... wasn’t her mysterious friend at all. He was the King.
Soraya rubbed her neck, searching for words. "Well, we haven’t been summoned yet, have we? So I don’t think you’re going to be punished for this."
Rayena rushed towards her, grabbing her hands, her eyes still wide with panic. "Do you really believe that? Do you really believe there won’t be consequences for my actions?"
Soraya opened her mouth, then closed it again, thinking carefully before speaking. "You two have been seeing each other for quite some time, and he didn’t say anything. He must have liked you enough not to reveal himself outright."
Those words sounded too good to be true. Rayena shook her head, pulling her hands away. "Or maybe—maybe he’s just biding his time until he can punish me. Oh heavens, I’m doomed."
Soraya sighed, realizing nothing she said was getting through. Looking around, she suddenly gasped. "The parcel you had with you, where is it?"
Rayena froze, her eyes widening like saucers. She groaned, clutching her head, inadvertently pulling at her hair. "We forgot it there!" she moaned in despair, collapsing to the ground.
Even Soraya grimaced. "It’s probably with him now. Well, in one way, we have delivered the parcel," she said, her voice coming out a lot more teasing than she intended.
"Now is not the time for jokes, Soraya. Heavens, what have I done to myself?!"
"I don’t know, sis. I don’t know."
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King Xenon returned from his patrol late in the evening—exhausted, irritated, and aggrieved. Footfalls heavy as he strode into his chambers, he slumped on one of the couches, rubbing his forehead to ease the headache banging behind it, his breathy weary. The conflicts between the werewolf clans and weretigers had worsened, and no matter how much he tried to placate both sides, they simply wouldn’t listen. He still hadn’t gained the weretigers’ full trust, and the werewolves kept questioning his capabilities, eager to unseat him.
If only he had a mate and child, his claim to the throne would be stronger, and no one would dare dispute him. The only thing that got him through the day was the blanket he’d received from Rayena.
Anytime he felt triggered or on the verge of violence, all he had to do was breathe through the fabric, filling his lungs with her scent, and his beast would calm, if only for a little while.
All he wanted to do now was see her, bury his face into her neck, and breathe her in. But the way she’d looked at him after she discovered who he was quickly made him realize that would be impossible at the moment. Which was a shame, because staying away from her these past two weeks had been torture. He’d clearly reached the short end of his patience.
Clutching the blanket, he stared at the embroidery once more. He hadn’t had time to admire it earlier, but now he gazed at the intricate designs, feeling a jolt in his heart. How had she made a design that captured how he felt on a daily basis? What sort of connection did they have for her to think about something like this?
Could she be my destined mate? he wondered with a furrowed brow, a frown tugging at his lips. As much as he hoped that it was not the case, a part of him knew otherwise. Even if she was, why couldn’t the gods make his life easier by making her a shifter? How would he navigate this situation when it’s revealed that she is indeed his mate?
He put the blanket aside, groaning as his other halves moved restlessly within him, each begging to be let out for completely different reasons. He glanced at the night sky, a wave of weariness crashing over him. Should he go for a run or a swim to release the tension?
Both. Let’s do both.
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