Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 161

Lycanthar

I stirred awake as dawn filtered through our chamber windows. Adelaide lay against my chest, her dark hair spread across my arm. Yet something felt... different.

I studied her sleeping face, noting the perfect stillness of her features. Too perfect. When Adelaide truly rested, she always carried the faintest furrow between her brows—a remnant of her burdens. Now her face was smooth, unmarked by any trace of worry.

Careful not to disturb her, I began to ease from the bed. Today would bring her coronation as Wolf Queen. There were final preparations to oversee, security details to confirm—

"Lycanthar?"

Her voice made me pause. Adelaide's eyes opened with an alertness too immediate, too sharp for someone just awakening.

"Good morning, my love," I said, settling back beside her. "I was hoping to let you sleep longer."

She sat up with movements that were precise, controlled—lacking her usual languid grace. A smile spread across her lips, but it was too symmetrical, too practiced.

"I should attend to my duties for the day," she said, her voice carrying a formal cadence that made my wolf instincts prick with unease. "There are preparations to be completed."

The words were correct, but hollow. This wasn't how Adelaide spoke to me in private moments. Where was the warmth, the intimate teasing?

"Adelaide," I began, reaching out to touch her cheek. "Are you feeling well? You seem... tense."

"I am perfectly well," she replied, that mechanical smile never wavering. "Simply focused on today's ceremony."

Perhaps it was nerves about the coronation. The ceremony would make our union official before all the werewolf clans—a momentous occasion that could naturally cause anxiety.

"Very well," I said finally, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'll see you at the ceremony tonight."

As I left our chambers, I couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted.

Despite my duties throughout the day, that nagging unease refused to fade. The hours passed with meetings, security briefings, and final preparations. Yet throughout it all, a persistent discomfort gnawed at me.

During a brief break, I summoned Elena, head of Adelaide's personal attendants.

"How has the Princess been today?" I asked casually.

Elena brightened. "In excellent spirits, Your Majesty. Most cooperative with all preparations. Very focused and dutiful."

*Dutiful.* The word echoed strangely. Adelaide was brave, compassionate, fierce—but 'dutiful' in the mechanical sense was not among her traits.

"Has she said anything unusual?"

"Not at all, sire. If anything, she seems more... composed than usual. Very calm and collected."

Too calm. Too collected. The Adelaide I knew would be a mixture of excitement and nerves. She would be second-guessing details, seeking reassurance. This serene compliance felt wrong.

As afternoon wore on, my unease deepened. Ancient traditions forbade me from seeing my bride-to-be until the ceremony—but every instinct screamed that I should break that tradition.

When evening finally arrived, the Moon Temple blazed with candles and torches. Werewolf nobility from every major clan filled the sacred space, alongside Adelaide's brothers and allied leaders.

I took my place at the altar in ceremonial silver and white robes. The moon hung full overhead, blessing our ceremony. Everything was perfect—too perfect.

The ancient horns sounded. Adelaide appeared at the temple's entrance.

She was breathtaking in silver silk and moonstone beading. Yet as she drew closer, my unease crystallized into cold certainty. Her steps were too measured, each placement mechanically precise. Her expression was beautiful—and completely empty of emotional depth.

When she reached the altar, I leaned toward her.

"How are you feeling, my love?" I whispered.

"I am honored to serve in this capacity, Your Majesty," she replied formally, her violet eyes meeting mine with polite interest rather than passionate connection.

My blood went cold. Adelaide had never referred to our marriage as 'serving in a capacity.' More than that, her scent was wrong—familiar yet flat, lacking the complex emotional layers I knew so well.

Acting on instinct, I grasped her hand and opened my awareness to sense our soul-deep connection. What I felt instead was a void—cold emptiness where Adelaide's vibrant presence should have blazed.

"You're not her," I breathed.

In that instant, 'Adelaide' moved with inhuman speed. Her hand emerged from her gown with a gleaming silver dagger inscribed with vampire runes. The blade drove straight toward my heart.

I twisted at the last second. The blade meant for my heart tore into my shoulder instead, sending liquid fire through my veins as silver burned my flesh.

I grabbed her wrist, preventing a second strike, and stared into those soulless violet eyes.

"WHO ARE YOU? WHERE IS ADELAIDE?"

The false Adelaide's features began to shift. Her lips curved into a cold smile as Lazarus's ancient voice emerged from her throat.

"More perceptive than I anticipated, young king. The true Princess Adelaide is... indisposed. If you wish to see her again, come alone to the caves west of Lycandor Keep. Bring your armies, and I will ensure her death is excruciating."

The false Adelaide collapsed, her stolen beauty dissolving into grey ash. Where a perfect replica had stood, only twisted magic remained before crumbling to dust.

"LAZARUS!" I bellowed, my anguish and rage shaking the temple stones.

Minutes later, we had regrouped in the war room, where Thalia worked frantically to understand what had happened. "The magic residue is extensive," she reported, examining the remnants with divination spells. "Lazarus used a replacement ritual—an incredibly complex one, likely embedded within the dark magic he struck her with. Something so subtle we never detected it."

"But Adelaide has been herself since then," Draven protested.

"The spell activated only under specific conditions—likely triggered by the ceremony itself. It transported the real Adelaide and left this echo in her place."

The implications hit me like a physical blow. Adelaide had been stolen while she slept safely in my arms.

"It's an obvious trap," Vespera said grimly. "He wants you to come alone."

"Then I'll give him what he wants," I said quietly.

The room erupted in protests. Alexander stepped forward.

"We should assault with overwhelming force—"

"No." My voice cut through the discussion. "If I bring an army, Adelaide dies. Lazarus has proven he can sense large-scale movements."

"There has to be another way," Seraphina implored.

I stood, testing my injured shoulder. The silver burn sent sharp pains through my arm, but would not stop me.

"He thinks he knows me—thinks I'll be blinded by rage or paralyzed by fear. Instead, I'm going to be what I've always been: a hunter. Tonight, Lazarus becomes the prey."

Thalia pressed a silver amulet into my palm. "Moonlight charm. Protection against vampire magic."

I looked around the room at my friends, family, advisors who had stood with me through every trial.

"Whatever happens tonight, Adelaide Valendria will come home safe. I swear it by the moon herself."

I shifted into my wolf form, silver-white fur gleaming. The change sent fresh pain through my wounded shoulder, but I embraced it, let it fuel my determination.

I bounded from the war room, through Lycandor Keep, and out into the night. The western mountains loomed dark against the stars, their peaks shrouded in malevolent shadow. Somewhere in those ancient caves, Adelaide was waiting.

Three hundred years ago, I had failed to protect everyone I loved. Tonight, I would not fail again.

The hunt was on.