All Chapters of Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

[ELARA]“Alright,” I say, shrugging. “We can pretend and forget that ever happened. It was a moment of weakness and well, you and I are both young. We’re bound to… our bodies are bound to want… things. B-But it was dangerous anyway. And stupid.”Lady Brook’s words usher into my thoughts. The King proposes to wed Princess Daphne to Prince Magnus. This marriage gives him the kingdom of Wyvern, because Daphne is the heir to the throne.Magnus' eyes darken. His lips form a frown that says he doesn’t agree. But his words don’t. “Valen will be difficult to handle. But Rasmus has sworn an oath to keep this a secret. He only wishes to play a scientist and delve into experimentation,” he says, completely diverging from the topic in discussion, but then it's for the best. “I always thought Prince Rasmus was more rational. Turns out he was just upset that I happened to be the first to get my hands on a mutated hydralith.”“What about Alina?” I ask, arguably, the most pressing question. “Are we to

[ELARA]"Princess Elara," Valen says, his voice a soft murmur that barely disturbs the still air of the dimly lit library. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come." He closes the book in his hand with a quiet thud, the sound echoing faintly in the silence, and makes his way towards me with a grace that makes his footsteps almost silent on the polished wooden floor.His singular eye moves from my trembling hands to my face, a fleeting smirk tugging at his lips as he remarks, "You look shaken."I draw in a deep breath, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over me. "I just delivered the news of someone’s rogueness to her mother and my father," I mutter, my voice tight. "How else am I expected to look?""Her mother and your father? That’s interesting," he muses, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You’re surely a little relieved about the whole thing after what she did to you," he accuses, gesturing with a sweeping motion for me to take a seat on a cushioned chair by the fireplace, its embers

[ELARA]We’re not even given the opportunity to answer him, forget about the irrational anger I feel on being interrupted. Celeste barges in, pushing aside Alistair before she faces me, her eyes red and swollen with tears. Her demand comes in a desperate, hard voice, “Where is my daughter?”“Lady Celeste, you must calm yourself,” Alistair tells her in a relaxed voice, barely bothered with being pushed aside. “You cannot barge into the Prince’s chambers like this.”She ignores him, instead reaching for me. Her arms splay out as she nears me, but Magnus steps in front. “Lady Celeste, I’ll take you to see your daughter,” he assures her. “But I need you to be patient.”“Patient? You want me to be patient? When my daughter has been turned into a rogue? I need to see her now,” she urges, her eyes widened in manic fury. “Now!”“That’s not possible,” Magnus answers simply, shaking his head. It is the calmness in Magnus’ voice that sends her over the edge. She lets out a blood-curdling screech

[MAGNUS]I clear my throat, bracing myself for the words I’m about to say. “A wedding I do not approve of. I’d rather have my sister marry you.”Rasmus frowns, his gaze unwavering as he studies my face. “That was direct,” he mutters, the words almost swallowed by the growls coming from Alina’s cell. I shrug, but keep my voice firm as I reply, “I’m an emissary of the council now. It is my job to improve ties with other kingdoms.”“Through a marriage…” Rasmus echoes, his tone thoughtful. His gaze drops to the floor as he shakes his head. “To Qaiven? My councilors wouldn’t approve. We’re a neutral kingdom. And marriage is a hasty task… Besides, I don’t want to interfere with the trade.”For some reason, his words ignite a flicker of hope in me. “Is that the only reason? Does that mean you’d consider Ruelle?”“Only reason?” he repeats, this time with a mocking grin. “Well, those are the ones I can think of right now,” he answers, the words almost playful. “Frankly, marriage doesn’t intere

[ELARA]Ruelle refuses to meet my eyes during dinner. She eats quietly, almost as if the meal is a duty, not a comfort. Her fingers tremble as she grips her fork, and I notice the way she keeps her hands close to her lap, her shoulders slouching, as if trying to make herself smaller beside the Queen Mother. Even when Princess Daphne tries to strike up conversation, Ruelle’s responses are clipped, distant — just a single word falling from her lips like she’s afraid she’ll slip up her plan. I’m not the only one who notices the change in her demeanor, Magnus does too — but I’m most certainly the only one who knows the reason behind it. Magnus must think this has to do with her marriage with Zander. Soon, the conversation at the table shifts from delicacies in Wyvern, to the wedding preparations, and Ruelle pales visibly. It is Daphne who begins the topic. “Why are you marrying off your only niece with such haste, Your Grace?” she asks Eldric with a smile. Only Daphne can dare to questi