Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King Chapter 168

LUCIEN'S POV

Morning came without mercy.

I'm already dressed when the light creeps through the curtains—black trousers, crisp shirt, the familiar weight of responsibility settling on my shoulders like armor. Work clothes. Control clothes. The kind that reminds the world I am steady, unshaken, in command.

Inside, I am anything but.

I'd barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her turning away from me. Heard the quiet break in her breathing. Felt the distance she put between us like a blade pressed to my ribs.

I move through the room quietly, setting the table with hands that don't tremble even though my chest feels too tight. Bread, fruit, tea. Simple. Safe. Things I can offer without hurting her.

The scent hits me before I turn.

Her heat.

It's soft and sharp all at once, curling through the air, sinking straight into my blood. My wolf stirs instantly, restless, possessive, aware. I have to grip the back of the chair to steady myself, jaw tightening as I force the reaction down.

I don't know how I'm managing it.

I just know I have to.

I walk back toward the bedroom, steps measured, breath controlled. She's still asleep, sprawled slightly now, one arm thrown above her head, hair a mess against the pillow. The sheet has slipped, baring the smooth curve of her shoulder.

Goddess.

I stop a few feet from the bed, afraid that if I get closer, I'll lose the fragile hold I have on myself. Her scent is stronger here, wrapping around me, whispering promises my body aches to answer.

She stirs.

A small sound leaves her lips as she stretches, back arching slightly, fingers flexing like she's reaching for something in her sleep. My throat goes dry. I turn my head just enough to look away, staring at the wall like it's the only thing keeping me sane.

Then her eyes open.

She blinks once, twice, taking in the room.

And then she sees me.

The warmth drains from her face instantly. Her brows pull together, lips pressing into a thin line. The shift is sharp, unmistakable.

Pain flashes through me.

"Good morning, Adele," I say softly.

She doesn't answer.

She pushes the sheet aside and climbs out of bed without a word, moving past me like I'm nothing more than a piece of furniture. The rejection hits harder than I expect. I turn slightly, watching her walk away, my chest tightening with every step she puts between us.

"I moved all your things into my room," I say, the words spilling out before I can stop them. "We don't have to share separate rooms anymore."

She stops.

Slowly, she turns to face me, eyes cool, guarded.

"So," she says flatly, "should I thank you?"

"That's not what I mean," I say quickly, stepping closer without realizing it. "I just—"

She shakes her head, cutting me off. "You're the last person I want to talk to right now."

Then she turns and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

The sound echoes.

I sit down heavily on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, hands clasped together so tightly my knuckles burn. I stare at the floor, breathing slowly, counting the seconds like it might stop my thoughts from spiraling.

I deserve this.

Minutes pass. Too many. Each one tightens the coil inside me.

When the bathroom door opens, I look up without thinking.

She steps out wrapped in a towel, hair damp, skin flushed from the water. The sight of her hits me like a physical blow. My breath stutters, my wolf surging forward so hard I have to dig my nails into my palms to keep from reacting.

She doesn't look at me.

She walks straight to the closet.

I stand, unable to sit still, pacing once, then twice. Every movement she makes pulls at me, the bond humming under my skin, alive and demanding. This is torture. Pure, deliberate torture.

She comes back moments later, fully dressed.

A simple pink dress. Flats. Her blonde hair tied back neatly, like she's bracing herself for battle.

She looks untouchable.

She heads for the door.

I move before I think, stepping into her path. "Where are you going?"

She lifts her gaze to mine, unflinching. "Where I'm wanted."

The words land like a punch.

"You can't just go out," I say, keeping my voice low, controlled. "Every male can practically smell that you're in heat."

Her lips curve into something sharp and humorless. "Isn't that a good thing?"

My jaw clenches so hard it aches. "You have to rest," I say, the growl creeping into my voice despite my effort to hold it back. "I brought you breakfast. Eat. Rest. You can't go out."

She tilts her head slightly, eyes glittering. "And who's going to stop me?"

The growl breaks free.

"Adele," I warn, "you're testing me."

She rolls her eyes, turning away from me, reaching for the door handle.

I grab her wrist.

The moment our skin touches, the bond explodes to life.

Heat shoots up my arm, electric and blinding. My wolf roars, claiming, demanding. The room feels too small, the air too thick. For one terrifying second, all I can think about is pulling her back, pressing her against me, breathing her in until there's nothing else.

She yanks her hand free like I've burned her.

"Mind your fucking business," she snaps. "And leave me alone."

The words slice deep.

I step back, forcing my hands into fists at my sides, fury and fear twisting together inside me until I can barely tell them apart. I watch her walk away, each step tearing something loose in my chest.

She reaches the door.

Then she stops.

Slowly, she turns back to me, her face unreadable, eyes hard.

"From now on," she says quietly, "let's pretend we don't know each other."

Then she walks out.

The door closes behind her with a soft, final click.

I stood there, breathing hard, chest heaving, claws biting into my flesh as blood welled up beneath my skin. Pain barely registered.

All I could see was her leaving.

All I could smell was her heat.

All I could think was the moment she stepped outside, every unmated male in the palace would feel it. Would be drawn to her. Would look at her the way I did.

Possessive rage exploded through me.

I slammed my fist into the wall, the sound cracking through the room.

Mine.

She was mine.

And she was walking straight into danger.

I stared at the door, heart pounding, knowing I was seconds away from losing control—and terrified of what would happen if I followed her... or if I didn't.