Все главы The Lycan King's Hybrid Mate: Глава 1 - Глава 10

Rosalee's Point of ViewAs I sit in front of my mirror, staring at my reflection, I can’t shake the heaviness pressing on my chest. My eighteenth birthday should feel monumental, but instead, it feels hollow. My life, nothing about it feels worth celebrating.The girl in the mirror doesn’t look like someone turning eighteen. Her eyes are tired, her shoulders slumped as if carrying invisible weights. I trace the edge of the vanity with my fingers, trying to ignore the faint noise of voices downstairs.A sharp knock at my door pulls me out of my thoughts. I don’t even have to guess who it is. Dameon.“Come in,” I mumble, but before the words fully leave my mouth, the door swings open.I glance at him through the mirror, frowning. “And what if I’d been indecent?”He grins, leaning casually against the doorframe, completely unbothered by my irritation. “Oh, come now. I knew you’d try to wiggle out of today, so I’m not giving you the chance.”I turn to face him fully, crossing my arms. “Do

Rosalee's Point of ViewAs I stare at the man standing in the hotel lobby, his presence seems to command the very air around him. He’s beautiful, dark hair framing a chiseled face, his piercing eyes locked onto mine. But it’s not his appearance that has me frozen in place.It’s the word he just uttered.“Mate.”No. No, I must have heard wrong. He couldn’t have said mate. My heart pounds erratically in my chest, and I feel the blood drain from my face. For two years, I had convinced myself that I would never hear that word, and I had prayed, even begged, the Moon Goddess to make it so.But now, standing here, I can’t deny the truth. The way his eyes burn with recognition, the magnetic pull I feel toward him, it’s undeniable. He is my mate.Suddenly, I’m not in the hotel lobby anymore. I’m back in the Silver Ridge Pack, two years ago, on the morning of my sixteenth birthday.I remember waking up that day with a strange mix of excitement and hope. I knew I wouldn’t be getting a party or

Rosalee's Point of ViewI sit on the edge of my bed, staring at my reflection in the small mirror across the room. The faint glow of the bedside lamp casts soft light over my features. My striking blue eyes meet my gaze, a color so vivid they almost seem unnatural. My dark hair falls in soft waves over my shoulders, framing a face that Dameon and his mother have often called beautiful.Beautiful.The word feels hollow to me. Beauty doesn’t matter, not when someone discovers the truth of what I am. A hybrid. A creature that doesn’t belong in either world. If he that man from earlier realizes what I truly am, all of this will be over. The life I’ve carefully built here, the fragile sense of safety I’ve managed to hold onto, it will all come crashing down.I tilt my head slightly, studying my features. There’s no visible trace of the monster within me, no hint of the beast that lies beneath my skin. My reflection doesn’t betray the truth.But my scent might.I’m surprised he didn’t pick

Rosalee's Point of ViewThe soft morning light filters through the curtains as I smooth the last corner of the bed, making sure it’s neat and perfect. The room smells faintly of fresh linens and the lavender cleaning spray I always use. After what happened last night, focusing on the familiar task and the familiar scent helps keep my nerves in check and helps me to keep my mind from wandering to stranger and the implications of what he said. I'm still focusing on my task, bending down and making sure the bed linen is absolutely perfect, when there is a quick knock on the door and it opens. I glance up to see him, the stranger from last night, standing in the door.His intoxicating scent hits my nose, overwhelming the familiar scent of the room and my heart skips a beat, but I quickly plaster a polite smile on my face, hiding the storm of emotions brewing inside of me. Play dumb, I remind myself. That’s the plan. Maybe if I act like I don’t know what he’s talking about, he’ll get bored

Rosalee's Point of ViewThe dining hall buzzes with the quiet hum of conversation, the clatter of silverware against plates, and the occasional burst of laughter from a nearby table. I sit at one of the smaller tables near the window, half hidden from the guests, the sunlight streaming through casting a warm glow on the wooden surface.Across from me, Dameon chats animatedly about something, probably a story from his morning shift, but his words barely register. My mind is elsewhere, tangled in the events of the morning.No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the memory of Jensen standing there in that room, his piercing gaze locked on mine, his voice so calm yet insistent. His words echo in my mind, “I know you heard me last night, and I know you feel the sparks.” He wasn’t wrong, but that doesn’t make this any easier.I push a piece of bread around my plate absentmindedly, my appetite long gone. My chest feels heavy with the weight of my thoughts. "Maybe I should just tell him outr