Chapter 3
The protagonist feels trapped by the relentless cruelty of Alexander and her parents, who belittle her because of her weight. Despite their attempts to diminish her, she refuses to be defined by their harshness and clings to the truth that Alexander could not have fathered the child of the woman he believes in, given his medical condition. Seeking solace, she rides her cherished horse Candy into the forest, a sanctuary where she finds temporary peace from her emotional turmoil.
While resting by a secluded stream, she is jolted awake by a mysterious groan. Guided by her wolf Rye’s instincts, she discovers an injured figure hidden in the mud near a banana bush. To her shock, the wounded being is not a werewolf but a Lycan, a revelation that challenges everything she knows, especially since the Lycan King is the only one they recognize. Despite her disbelief and fear, she senses a powerful bond forming between them, marked by a glowing crescent on her wrist.
As she tends to the Lycan’s wounds, she confronts the overwhelming force of his presence. His aura is commanding and fierce, pressing down on her with an intensity that nearly makes her submit. Yet she stands firm, determined not to bow to even the most powerful creature. The Lycan, weakened by poison and injury, reacts with pain and aggression, but she remains composed, carefully removing arrows from his side to prevent the poison from killing him.
Their interaction is tense and fraught with danger, as the Lycan struggles between his pain-fueled rage and the need to trust her. Despite his attempts to strike her, she commands him to stay calm and still, asserting her authority as a Luna. The situation is complicated by the fact that this Lycan King, her unexpected mate, is also surprisingly vulnerable and defiant. As she prepares to fetch healing herbs, the Lycan threatens her with a fierce mental warning before slipping into unconsciousness, leaving her to face the uncertainty of their connection and the challenges ahead.
Chapter 3
I was well aware that neither Alexander nor my parents would ever give me peace. Their constant attempts to break me down, to make me feel small and insignificant, were relentless. All because I was overweight, they treated me like I was less than worthy in every aspect of my existence.
But today, I refused to let their cruelty define me any longer. I knew the truth—there was no way that woman was carrying Alex’s child. After all, Alexander had been diagnosed with azoospermia; the most renowned healer in the Werewolf World had confirmed it without a shadow of a doubt.
What baffled me was how blind Alex had to be to believe that woman’s lies. Honestly, I didn’t care anymore. I was painfully aware that I wasn’t the kind of woman people found attractive, that I wasn’t desired by many. But that didn’t mean I would allow anyone to trample over me or treat me like I was nothing.
As soon as I left the Packhouse, I mounted Candy, my white Arabian stallion, a precious gift from my grandfather. The horse’s sleek coat gleamed in the fading afternoon light as I urged her forward, heading straight for the woods.
The forest was one of my sanctuaries, a place where my restless soul could find some semblance of peace. The crisp, dry leaves cracked and crunched beneath Candy’s hooves, while the wind whispered through the branches, its rhythmic rustling echoing like a heartbeat in my ears—both soothing and invigorating.
I was starving, utterly drained, and my mind felt like it was unraveling. It was almost impossible to accept that just hours ago, I had experienced a fleeting moment of happiness, only for it to dissolve into a crushing nightmare.
After riding deeper into the woods and playing around with Candy for another half hour, we finally reached the hidden stream. The water here was as pure and sweet as the spring nearby, but unlike the spring, this spot was rarely visited by anyone.
It had become my secret refuge.
We settled down at the edge of a massive oak stump, so wide that even Candy could comfortably lie down. I rested my head against her warm belly, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath beneath me. Candy was the only being who had never judged me, never scorned me for my size. She carried me with such dignity and grace, and I would protect her with every fiber of my being.
As I began to drift off, lulled by the softness of her fur and the gentle sounds of the forest, a sudden, sharp groan jolted me awake. I lifted my head, straining to identify the source of the noise. At first, I thought it might be the trees creaking in the wind, so I dismissed it.
But Candy stirred uneasily, a low purring sound vibrating from her as she turned her head toward the stream.
“Is someone there?” I whispered, sitting up. She nuzzled my arm in response. Instinctively, I stood up, heart pounding.
“Stay here, Candy. I’ll check it out,” I said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before slipping down to the riverbank.
The groan came again, faint but unmistakable.
“I can smell it from the banana bush,” my wolf, Rye, whispered urgently inside my mind.
The scent was strong now—woody, musky, sharp, mixed with the unmistakable odor of leather. I felt Rye stir restlessly within me, her unease mirroring my own.
“It can’t be,” she murmured, trembling under the weight of the scent. Then, with a low growl filled with certainty, she declared, “Mate p>
I froze in place, my body trembling as the word echoed inside my mind. Mate? Me? I struggled to believe it. Who could be so unlucky as to be cursed with a mate like me? A cruel fate, indeed.
Before I could process my shock, the groaning came again. This time, my body reacted on pure instinct. I sprinted toward the wild banana bush that no one ever wanted to approach.
As I drew closer, the scent intensified, and then I saw it—a leg, partially hidden in the mud. The sharp tang of blood hit my nose.
“He’s hurt,” Rye growled softly.
I approached cautiously, expecting to find another werewolf. But when I came fully into view, my entire world shattered.
My eyes blinked rapidly as I gripped the dirty hem of my dress, my pulse pounding wildly. The bond inside me flared—raw, fierce, and painfully alive.
“He’s not a werewolf,” I whispered, disbelief choking my voice.
Rye’s shock matched mine. “Our mate is a Lycan? Impossible p>
There was only one Lycan we knew.
“It can’t be,” I told myself desperately. “There’s no way the Lycan King is our mate, Rye. Maybe it’s just a trick of the mind p>
“I can feel him,” Rye insisted. “Look—the faint golden waves connecting to him p>
I glanced at my wrist, where a crescent-shaped mark had begun to glow faintly. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to accept it. I didn’t deserve a Lycan mate.
“We need to treat his wounds first. Let’s stop with the fantasies,” I muttered, forcing myself forward.
It was the first time I had ever seen a Lycan in hybrid form, and I couldn’t deny the fear creeping up my spine.
His eyes fluttered open as I neared, though he was too weak to lift his head. A low growl rumbled from his throat, thickening the air around me.
That was when I truly felt it—his aura.
Despite being half-dead, poisoned, and bleeding, the raw power of a Lycan pressed down on me like a crushing weight. My knees nearly buckled beneath the force, and my chest tightened as if the very air belonged to him. This was no ordinary presence—it was a command so potent it bent worlds, forcing wolves to kneel without question.
Rye whimpered inside me, torn between submission and the wild thrill of recognition.
“Stand tall!” I hissed at her, clenching my fists. I refused to bow—not to him, not even if he was the most powerful creature alive.
Yet every growl he uttered seemed to shake the ground beneath my feet. Every flicker of his crimson eyes was a silent order to kneel.
He growled again, this time attempting to kick me with his injured leg despite the blood loss.
Ignoring the suffocating aura, I stepped closer, my hand trembling as I gently stroked his belly to calm us both. “Shh, I won’t hurt you. Relax,” I whispered softly.
He looked agitated, but the poison had sapped his strength.
“I’ll remove the arrow first. Please trust me,” I said with a tentative smile. He closed his eyes, though his aura still lingered around us like invisible chains.
Carefully, I wrapped my fingers around the arrow lodged in his side. He growled sharply, a sound fierce enough to cut through bone, but I stayed focused.
One wrong move could sever nerves and cause permanent damage. While werewolves and Lycans could heal minor injuries quickly, major wounds were another matter entirely.
I placed my left hand on the uninjured skin near the arrow and pulled with all my might.
He howled violently, his voice tearing through the forest as his aura flared like a storm crashing over me. Blood poured from the wound like a river, but I didn’t stop. The poison was spreading; I needed to draw out enough blood before I could seal the injury.
He continued to growl in pain as I reached for the second arrow. This time, his agony turned to frenzy. His fangs bared, claws extended, and he slashed toward me.
His aura surged with the attack—a violent, dominant force meant to crush me into the earth.
But I dodged skillfully, gasping under the weight of his power. I might be overweight, but I was still a Luna.
“Calm down if you want to live!” I snapped, ripping at my dress. “I’m not here to hurt you. And even if I were, you don’t have the strength to fight me p>
His blazing red eyes locked on me, his aura still pressing like a storm. Even weakened, he was terrifyingly formidable.
But I remained composed. This was a matter of life and death. One mistake, and the poison would reach his heart, killing him instantly.
Once enough blood had flowed, I pressed the torn fabric against his wound. The moment I touched him, he tried to lash out again. His aura surged defiantly, refusing to submit even in weakness.
“Stop it!” I scolded, smacking his head lightly. “Are you a child? The poison hasn’t reached your brain yet, has it p>
I glared at him before standing up.
“Lie down, you crybaby. I’m going to fetch some herbs. Don’t even think about moving p>
I was already furious with my parents and Alexander. And now? Now I had a mate who was not only the Lycan King—but also a crybaby one at that. Tsk.
Suddenly, a sharp, cold voice echoed inside my mind.
“I will kill you!” the half-dead Lycan snarled, his rage and pain piercing through the mental link. He still had enough strength to communicate. Fascinating.
Before I could respond, his eyes snapped shut, and he slipped into unconsciousness.
The chapter closes on a note of turbulent emotions, weaving together feelings of defiance, vulnerability, and unexpected destiny. The protagonist’s resilience shines through her refusal to be diminished by others’ cruelty, even as she confronts the shock of discovering her mate is the powerful and feared Lycan King. Her protective instinct toward the injured Lycan, despite his threatening aura and fierce resistance, reveals a deep strength and compassion beneath her wounded pride. This encounter challenges her perceptions of worth and fate, as she grapples with the overwhelming reality of their bond.
Amidst the tension and uncertainty, the chapter captures the fragile balance between fear and hope. The protagonist’s journey through rejection and pain toward acceptance and courage is mirrored in the wild, untamed forest setting—a place of refuge and revelation. As she tends to her mate’s wounds, the story hints at the possibility of transformation and healing, not just of physical injuries but of fractured relationships and inner turmoil. The emotional arc closes with a poignant mix of defiance and reluctant connection, setting the stage for the complex path ahead.
The next chapter promises to delve deeper into the complex and volatile bond between our protagonist and the Lycan King, whose unexpected arrival has already sent shockwaves through her world. As she grapples with the implications of this newfound connection, tensions simmer beneath the surface—between duty and desire, fear and acceptance. The emotional turmoil stirring within her will challenge her resilience and force her to confront truths she had long tried to bury.
Meanwhile, the presence of the injured Lycan King introduces a new layer of danger and uncertainty. His fierce power, even in weakness, hints at conflicts yet to come, both internal and external. The delicate balance between trust and mistrust will test their fragile alliance, raising questions about loyalty, identity, and the sacrifices required to survive. Readers will find themselves drawn into a web of intrigue and passion, eager to see how these two unlikely mates navigate the perilous path ahead.
Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.