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36. No Reason

Penulis: Priyal Dessai
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2024-05-11 02:37:09
[ELARA]

“Magnus!” I call out his name without another thought, catching him mid-turn.

Was he trying to run away from me? Avoid me once again and pretend he didn’t see me?

I can’t tolerate any more of this. It’s suffocating and beyond annoying.

With quick strides, I reach him. Alistair is behind him, of course, like a shadow.

“Elara,” he mumbles, his voice coarse. It has been this way since he gained consciousness. His eyes stare intently into mine. His gaze combined with the way he sounds, make me aware of the air touching my arms. “What happened?”

“I need to talk to you,” I tell him, my voice faltering as I suddenly realize that this is a bad idea. How do I approach this?

‘Silly, why do you even care?’ Lila taunts me.

“I’m occupied right now. The King will arrive shortly. His ship is in view at the coast. I think whatever you have to say can wait,” he responds dismissively.

Although he stands firmly, I can see that it's not effortless. Goddess knows what he’s going throug
Priyal Dessai

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  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   38. The King's Arrival

    [ELARA]As soon as I can feel my hands again, I begin to wipe the blood that is smeared on my face. As the last of Lila’s fur disappears from my body, and I’m left naked, I can hear my heart once again—it’s pounding furiously. The taste of blood is still evident on my tongue as I reach to the grass-covered ground and pick up the scarlet fabric that Lila just tore off of the dead man’s hand. The man… I know him. He’s a minister at court. I saw him this morning with Magnus in the hallways… and now he’s dead. Murdered. Brutally. And this fabric—as much as I wish it weren’t true—belongs to one of Morgana’s gowns. Which implies that she killed him. Or is clear evidence of her involvement. It’s hard to believe that a plain wish to shift into my wolf form would lead to such a horrifying revelation. I have to tell Magnus about this as soon as I can. I shrug into my silk lilac gown, and brush off the dry leaves that are stuck in my lace sleeves. I comb my fingers through my hair, trying my

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2024-05-13
  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   39. A Diplomatic Dinner

    [ELARA]Magnus noticed. Ruelle noticed. Hell, everyone in the hall with their eyes on Eldric noticed that he was staring at me with a smirk. Out of everyone else, me. Elara Wildewood. A beta from an independent pack at a border of the continent with no special powers. A nobody, really. Easily ignored, someone who could blend in. Or so I believed. But no one did anything about it. Even when I looked to Magnus for help, all he responded with was a more clenched jaw and tensed shoulders. And then everything settled—King Eldric walked to his throne and sat himself on it, not before dusting off nonexistent dirt from the velvet seat. He then recited vaguely of the heroism with which Caelondor conquered Wyvern, leaving their enemies crushed. Kian, the dead crowned prince, was briefly mentioned as he informed the masses about the funeral that would happen tomorrow. But then he burst into a wide grin as he revealed that, "There is something good coming."It’s been several hours since that happe

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  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   40. The Secret Passageway

    [ELARA]Dinner is a long affair, extending long past midnight. Platters of food are brought in to replace the empty ones. This is followed by recitation of tales from the battlefield—everyone praises King Eldric after every sentence is spoken. I realize there are commanders of the army among us. I’m not allowed to leave, nor do I get a chance to speak to Magnus as he is occupied in conversations with ministers. Somewhere during the night, Lady Celia requests to retire from the gathering. Ruelle does the same, repeating her mother’s words. I join in too, and thankfully, when King Eldric nods, we’re allowed to go. “You would’ve liked Kian,” Ruelle says sadly as she walks by my side. “He was a good man.”“He’ll be in a better place tomorrow. In the Goddess’ Meadow,” I say, hoping it will comfort her.‘Liar. You don’t even believe in an afterlife,’ Lila mocks me. Ruelle gives me a smile, which is sad too. Her blue eyes are exhausted, but her dark hair is still perfect. “I’ll see you in

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  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   41. The Funeral

    [ELARA]The Cursed Gulf is calm today—it’s an usual scene. Every time I’ve gazed into this sea, I’ve seen it covered with thunderclouds at the horizon, no matter what time of the day it is. This serene calmness looks like a sign from the Goddess herself as she takes back the dead prince into her meadow. Kian Blackwell is laid onto a wooden pyre, adorned in the finest silk. Mourners surround it, gathering in hundreds over the sands that border the Cursed Gulf. Soulbinders recite the prayers that are meant to release his soul, making it free to cross over to the ethereal realm and into the Goddess’ meadow. When they’re done, King Eldric approaches the pyre, casting one last longing look at the only son he ever had before he places a crown on his chest and retraces his steps. The Queen Mother Seraphina finally makes an appearance just before the funeral ceremony concludes, flanked by her maids. She’s dressed in the color of mourning—a plain gray gown, her face covered in a netted veil.

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  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   42. Mithridatism

    [MAGNUS]“Aren’t you done yet, Magnus?” Nyra’s honeyed voice echoes in the blurry room as she shifts her bare body on the cushioned bench, a teasing look twinkling in her brown eyes. All of her dark curls are parted to one side of her body, that extend from her head to the curve of her waist. “Don’t move, love,” I tell her as I focus on bringing her beauty on the canvas in front of me. It’s hard—not only to focus on painting her when she’s naked in front of me, but also to truly bring every detail on the canvas. “You’re beautiful, Nyra,” the words left my mouth without my notice. She chuckles, her figure disintegrating only to fit back up again like pieces of a puzzle. “Kiss me then,” she commands. The corners of my vision blur a little more. “Come to me,” I tell her as I begin to walk towards her. But with every step I take forward, more distance is created between us. “Come to me, Nyra,” I repeat myself impatiently, now running towards her. But she moves further and further away

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  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   43. The New Council

    [MAGNUS]The moment I step into the council room, my attention is drawn to the painted ceiling. A ladder leans against the wall, atop which stand two humans engrossed in painting a blank section. A smirk touches my lips as I suppress a laugh. A victory over Wyvern—a small kingdom, barely a third the size of Caelondor—certainly doesn’t deserve to be immortalized there.Eldric sits in his regal chair at the center of the table, watching the painters with proud eyes. As soon as I take my seat, he regards me with his gruff yet cool voice, “Ah, nephew! How kind of you to finally grace us with your presence. The sand clock… give it to me.”He opens the palm of his bandaged hand. An unhealed wound? A battle wound? Eldric quickly withdraws his hand when he notices me studying it. He brings forward his other hand, and I carefully place the sand clock in it. Clear nervousness flickers across his face before he shakes it away.“Shall we begin?” Eldric asks the ministers seated quietly around the

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  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   44. The Execution

    [ELARA]The crowd in the palace courtyard forms a restless sea of faces, each etched with curiosity and grim anticipation. I stand at a distance beneath a stall roof reserved for the royal family's viewing of executions, should they choose to attend. At my side is Magnus, his shoulders tense, lips sealed in anger. He clenches and unclenches his fists repeatedly, struggling to maintain composure.Silent, he stares straight ahead, fixated on the gray stone slab where Morgana will meet her fate today. As the hour approaches, the crowd's murmurs fade into tense silence. The creak of scaffold steps draws my attention, and I crane my neck to catch a glimpse of the condemned woman being led forward. My breath catches as I recognize Morgana, once a woman of strong will and sharp intellect, now reduced to a trembling figure in a tattered red gown, her black hair disheveled.Morgana’s lips move frantically, but no words escape. She stumbles, the guard at her side tightening his grip, almost drag

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  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   123. The Winter Bard

    [ELARA]The bard is not the same man today.Had no one told me it was him—and had I not watched him so closely the night before—I might’ve sworn it was someone else entirely.I suppose madness does that. Warps a person from the inside out. Just last night, he was dressed in fine silks, the very picture of elegance and confidence—charming enough to rival Magnus at his most dazzling. Now? He’s tied to a pillar in Thornhall’s courtyard like a spectacle.He thrashes wildly, laughter cracking through the air in bursts, each followed by guttural cries that scrape the throat raw. But it’s not the noise that sends a chill down my spine.It’s the pearls.A strand of them, strung neatly around his neck—eerily similar to the one I shattered. The one Valen claimed belonged to Raelynn.I take an instinctive step back.“Who painted his lips?” Lady Brook’s voice comes from beside me, thin and sharp. Her hand clutches her throat as if she’s afraid the color might stain her own skin. Her hair, usually

  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   122. Tainted

    [ELARA]“Magnus,” I call out. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t turn. Doesn’t even pause. The door slams shut behind him, and something inside me breaks. My knees buckle, and I collapse onto the edge of the bed, fingers twisting into the fabric of my robe like it can change reality. My lungs can’t find air. It’s like they’re stitched shut.‘You’re panicking,’ Lila says. ‘You must breathe.’But I can’t. I can’t.My hands fly to my throat, clawing at the skin like I can scrub the shame away. My nails scrape across Valen’s bite marks, and the moment my fingers graze them, guilt sinks in like a slow-moving poison.What have I done?He wasn’t lying.I saw it in his golden eyes—saw it when the shield fell between us, when truth flooded that brief second of silence. Magnus hadn’t been with anyone. Not in these long, aching months.Not once.But I had believed wrongly.And it led me to—Lila speaks again, ‘It wasn’t just that. You know it wasn’t.’I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head, biting down

  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   121. The Mate I Cannot Claim

    [MAGNUS]Setting her free—as she says it—is not going to end my misery. If anything, it’ll make me even more miserable. I don’t hate Elara. I could never hate her. The day I start hating her is the day I lose all control over myself. And the day I lose all control of myself is the day I lose her. So I can’t accept her as my mate. I can't get through the ritual and let the bond strengthen. I can’t mark her, can’t make her mine, not until I have eradicated all of my enemies. Until Eldric lies cold in his grave. One more loss… and there will be no going back. Creed’s agony will consume me, break my mind until I’m left as nothing but a hollow shell. Elara stands there looking utterly broken, crying as if there’s no strength left in her. And it is all my fault. Whatever anger I feel, the urge to burn the world to the ground, the desire to see Valen crushed to a pulp—I push it all aside. Lock it inside a part of my mind where I stash all of my irrational thoughts. Valen fed on her, I

  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   120. His Wife

    [ELARA]Magnus barges in, cutting through the space with quick strides and startling Edith. “Leave,” he tells Edith, not even sparing her a glance. That single word is enough to tell me that he has come here with boiling blood. I don’t even need to consider the fury in his golden eyes. Edith swallows hard, and scurries off but not before tossing me a fleeting look. There’s prayer in her eyes. She is unaware that nothing can save me from Magnus’ wrath. For a moment, silence lingers—a kind where you can hear the sounds of our hearts racing. Stupidly, I stare at Magnus’ face too long, and my chest tightens with an odd feeling. Something that feels a lot like longing. ‘Tread carefully,’ Lila warns. “So you’ve finally come,” I say, nonchalantly running my fingers through my hair as I turn my back on him and walk to the mirror. “You deceived me into thinking you had no idea where my chamber was.”How much does he know? I wonder as I sit down on the bench, staring at my reflection. He’s

  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   119. The Vampire's Offer

    [ELARA]I stare at the ceiling, breathing a little too loud. I’m aware of the sweat covering my naked body, of the puncture wounds on my neck that are still blazing, eliciting waves of pleasure although Valen is no longer feeding on me. The desire to curl up and close my eyes and shut myself from the world feels too overwhelming. What have I done?A slow breath drifts against my shoulder.I go still.He’s awake.Heat creeps up my neck, shame curling in my stomach. I don’t dare look at him. If I do, I’ll see it—the smug amusement in his expression, the satisfaction, the knowing.I close my eyes, as if I can will myself back into ignorance. As if I can pretend I didn’t just let Valen—the last person I should have touched—consume me whole.“You're thinking too much,” his voice breaks the silence. It’s unbothered. I flinch.He chuckles. “I can hear it, you know. That frantic little heartbeat of yours.”My fingers curl into the sheets, my breath catching. “Go away,” I murmur.Valen shif

  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   118. Blood and Desire

    [ELARA]Something tells me Valen knows I’m here, and that I’m watching him, but doesn’t stop. “What do you think you are doing?” I hiss at him when I finally find my voice again, daring myself to walk closer. He glances at me leisurely, licking his bloodied lips as he lifts his head from her neck. “I was hungry,” he says with a shrug, and casts Tara aside like a doll. She leans against the wall, the euphoric smile on her face still lingering. “You look… displeased.”I hesitate. I did not think I would Tara here. I really believed she was with Magnus. “She’s our guest,” I whisper, my fingers twitching to reach her, to check if she’s okay—but I don’t. Somehow, I can’t bring myself to touch her. Not when she looks like she’s floating in some distant bliss. “You can’t harm her.”Valen cocks his head slightly, amused. “Harm?” He gestures lazily at Tara’s boneless form. “Does she look harmed to you?”I scoff. “You—” I swallow, forcing air into my lungs. “You drank her blood.”He smirks,

  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   117. The Stable boy

    [ELARA]I notice, somewhere between the refilled goblets and the swelling melody of the Bard’s latest song, that Magnus is gone. And Alistair with him. Not that I was informed about it. The feast carries on without them. The Bard, ever the showman, soaks in the attention, strumming his lute with a smirk that suggests he’s well aware of the effect he has on the court. Thornhall has something new to play with tonight. The dancers sit sulking in a corner, forgotten. The musicians find themselves disagreeing with the songs. “I will bed this man tonight,” Lady Brook announces, her words thick with drink as she leans forward, nearly spilling from her seat.I arch a brow. “The Bard?”“Who else?” she breathes, eyes heavy-lidded. “Look at him. That mouth was made for more than singing.”“That’s ambitious.” I huff a quiet laugh, lifting my goblet to my lips. “Don’t let Edith know.”“If I had a mother like that—” she begins with a lazy grin, then downs the rest of her wine. “What do you think

  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   116. Burning for the Enemy

    [ELARA]“Did you enjoy the ballad, Your Highness?” Valen’s teasing voice curls around me, his amusement barely concealed. He rises from his seat with effortless grace, extending his hand as if he knew—knew—I would come to him. “I worked with the man himself to craft it.”Every movement in the hall slows. A royal woman should not do this. A wife should not do this. The weight of a hundred eyes presses upon me, mouths whispering, hands tightening around goblets—a scandal. But let them watch. Let them see what their beloved prince has wrought. Let them murmur about the disgrace of Magnus’ mate, the woman who was meant to stand at his side.I take Valen’s hand. His skin is cooler than Magnus’, his grip lighter, but no less commanding.“Do not speak,” I say, my voice a blade, and he only grins.“Remember when I told you last night that when you command me, you’re even—”I cut him off. “Will you dance with me or not?” My words are steel-wrapped velvet, laced with something desperate and rec

  • Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince   115. A Fool for the Last Time

    [ELARA]I want to leave. No—storm off. Let every guest see, let them know I do not stand by their beloved Prince, their cold and callous Magnus. Let them whisper about the insult, the blatant disrespect. I would not care. I want them to see. I want him to see.How dare he? How dare he shatter my heart so effortlessly, as if it were made of glass? If this is his response—if this is how he welcomes another into his arms so easily, so publicly—then what has he done in the quiet of the past five months? How many nights has he spent like this, without hesitation, without guilt?I knew Talisa—Morgana… kept him company, but I thought… no more. Not since he learned what we are to each other. Not since he learned I am his mate. But now my heart burns, set upon a spit, roasting in the heat of my own foolishness.I told myself he wouldn’t. That he couldn’t. But I see now—I was wrong. I was so wrong.And I kept Valen away because it was him I thought of. Even when Valen’s hands traced my skin, I

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