Semua Bab Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King: Bab 111 - Bab 120

CereliaI don’t know how Hilda makes it through the next few days without showing any outward signs of strain. She’s also the one who comes up with the plan for our trap."He won't come unless he believes we're vulnerable," she tells King Arlo. "And he won't believe we're vulnerable unless we give him a reason to." King Arlo’s jaw clenches, "You expect me to let you—""Let me?" Hilda cuts in, her voice as sharp as steel. "This is not a request, Arlo. Maelor knows we'd never turn our backs on you, that we’d never leave. So we make him believe that’s exactly what we’ve done, in order to save you all."I nod my agreement, stepping closer to Soren. "We leave at dawn, making it clear we’re severing all ties. Maelor will suspect it’s a trap, until I cast the message to let him know where we’ll be and that we’re offering ourselves in exchange for safety for everyone else.”“’What makes you think he’ll fall for that? He knows I won’t let you go,” King Arlo asks Hilda plaintively. “Tara’s prop

ArloI watch as Cerelia and Hilda work together to take Maelor down. I can feel my beloved’s agony and pride surges in me at her incredible strength. She was right and I should never have doubted her. She is strong enough to do this.Maelor’s horrified expression when he realizes who will be responsible for his death tastes like ambrosia. The moment is sheer perfection until I feel the mating bond I share with Hilda disappear.One moment it’s there, a golden light suffusing my soul, the next there’s only darkness. “Hilda!” I hear Cerelia scream and I’m at my mate’s side in 2 bounds. Her eyes are closed and her body’s ice cold. She seems to have lost half her bodyweight in a single night. Her always slight frame is skeletal and her skin is pale as death.“Fix her!” I demand from Cerelia, losing all interest in the battle surrounding us. Most of the mages have fallen and my warriors are more than capable of dealing with them now that they have no way to defend themselves. Now that Hilda

Arlo“King Arlo, you have to get some rest,” Percy tells me when he stops by the cabin and finds me still holding Hilda.“I’ll rest when my mate’s back. She’s cold and alone, I need her to know that I’m here,” I tell him shortly, tightening my arms around her body, as if I’m afraid she’ll be snatched from me.Who can blame me when for all intents and purposes that’s already happened? I’ve tried to find even a glimmer of our link, but it’s gone.Hilda is completely still, something she almost never was in life, unless we were basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking, or she was sleeping. It’s unsettling feeling no heartbeat and seeing no air entering her lungs. Her body temperature has increased, but it only lasts for as long as I’m holding her. The moment she’s on her own, it drops again.Cerelia has been by twice to assure me that there’s still no decomposition taking place and rigor mortis hasn’t set in, but I can’t find Hilda and I’ve never felt more lonely in my life.“I underst

HildaIt takes me a long time to force my eyes to open. My body feels foreign and I’m freezing. I try to roll over so I can snuggle into Arlo’s always warm arms, but I seem to be stuck in position like a beached whale.Pain rips through my abdomen as though a giant, serrated knife is cutting me open and Arlo’s suddenly by my side, staring down at me in wonder. “You’re awake,” he breathes, looking stunned.The pain abated for a second, but now it’s back with a vengeance and I screech helplessly. Arlo grabs my hand, peppering my face with kisses. “Hilda, you’ve been in a coma for nearly 9 months. You’re in labor, our baby’s being born.”“I’m going to help you through this, just try to breathe. I know it must be confusing. I was so worried you’d never come back to me.” I’m giving birth? Panic grips my heart. Tara said I wouldn’t be able to do that.Screw Tara, she won’t dictate my future. Veilbreaker didn’t kill me and Arlo’s been waiting for me. I never gave up before and I’m not starti

DamonThe news reaches me before dawn, whispered in the ears of those who know better than to keep secrets from me. Soren is weak. Not just exhausted or wounded, but broken. The kind of weakness that lingers, that seeps into the bones and never truly leaves.I sit in my office, fingers drumming against the arm of my chair, the firelight flickering against the walls. The messenger, a thin, twitchy bastard from one of my outer patrols, whose name I can’t be bothered to recall, stands before me, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He reeks of nerves, and for good reason.“Say that again,” I order, my voice deceptively calm. He swallows hard. “Soren was badly injured during the King’s fight with the mages. He took a sword in the lung while trying to save Cerelia. He should have died. Cerelia kept him breathing with magic.”His lips press into a thin line, as though the words taste foul in his mouth. “But he’s not what he was. Won’t be for a long time. Maybe never from what I’ve heard.”