Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 63

Liliana

The afternoon sun filtered through the canopy as I made my way toward the Wolf King's tent, a carefully prepared meal balanced in my hands. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips—barely perceptible, but filled with satisfaction. The dappled light played across my pale skin as I walked, and I couldn't suppress a whispered murmur of triumph.

"By now, that precious 'human healer' should be surrounded by the Hungry Ones," I said softly to myself, savoring the words.

The memory of this morning's encounter flashed through my mind with perfect clarity. I had been gathering berries near the forest edge, my magical torch casting protective light, when I stumbled upon them—a werewolf mother and her young son. The child's eyes had been filled with desperate tears as he begged me to help his infected mother. For a moment, I'd almost sneered at his pathetic plea. Why should I risk venturing into the beetle-infested wasteland for two strangers?

But then inspiration had struck like lightning.

My fingers absently brushed against the crystal vial at my waist, where I kept my most precious possession—Abyss Desire, a rare aphrodisiac perfume that could drive any creature into a frenzy of desire. More importantly, it sent those black beetles into absolute madness. I had carefully divided the precious liquid into thin membrane pouches, burying them strategically around the spot where the mother had collapsed.

Then I'd brought the boy back to camp, playing the part of a concerned benefactor. "Go find that purple-eyed human woman," I'd told him with feigned kindness. "She's always eager to help others." The irony had been delicious—sending him to fetch the very person I wanted eliminated.

Once Adelaide stepped on those fragile pouches and released the scent, the beetles would swarm her like sharks drawn to blood. They would tear her apart, and I would finally have the Wolf King's undivided attention.

I pushed aside the heavy tent flap and stepped inside with practiced grace. The interior was dimly lit, filled with the intoxicating mixture of pine, leather, and raw power that always surrounded Lycanthar. He stood hunched over an oak table, studying maps marked with red notations, his silver hair falling like a curtain around his chiseled features. He was completely absorbed in planning the reconstruction of villages destroyed by the beetle plague.

He didn't even glance up at my entrance.

A flicker of annoyance crossed my features before I quickly smoothed it away. I set the food tray at the corner of his table with deliberate care, then positioned myself nearby, hands folded submissively at my waist, the picture of perfect obedience.

Suddenly, Lycanthar's ears twitched like a wolf catching a distant sound. His entire body went rigid, golden eyes sharpening to an almost predatory focus as he looked toward the western edge of camp. His nostrils flared slightly, as if detecting some faint but deadly scent on the wind.

In the next heartbeat, he was moving—launching himself from the tent like an arrow released from a bow. His speed was so incredible that even the guards stationed outside barely had time to react as he barked a low command: "Follow me! Someone in the western woods is in danger!"

I stood frozen, staring at the tent entrance where he'd vanished, my confidence crumbling into disbelief and rage.

"Impossible!" I hissed under my breath, my hands clenching into fists. My carefully manicured nails bit into my palms as jealousy burned through my veins like poison. "How could he possibly sense something so far away?"

I stomped my foot in frustration, my elegant boot leaving a deep impression in the carpet. All my careful planning, my perfect trap, ruined by his inexplicable connection to that wretched human girl.

"What hold does she have over him?" I snarled, my composure finally cracking. The thought that there might be some special bond between them made my blood boil with envy and fury.

Lycanthar

I tore through the camp at inhuman speed, leaving only silver blur in my wake as soldiers scrambled to keep up. My heart hammered against my ribs with inexplicable terror and urgency—a sensation I'd never experienced with such intensity before. Every instinct screamed that Adelaide was in mortal danger, that I had to reach her immediately.

The feeling defied all logic. She was merely a human attendant, someone who had helped restore my sanity through the Moon Bride ritual. Yet something deep within my chest, some primal part of my soul, was crying out in alarm.

*I cannot lose her,* the thought echoed relentlessly through my mind. *Not again.*

The word "again" puzzled me even as I ran. Why would I think of losing her "again" when I barely remembered our time together during my feral years?

The moment I crossed beyond the camp's protective barriers, black beetles swarmed toward me in writhing masses. I didn't hesitate—letting my human form dissolve as I shifted into my wolf shape mid-stride. My massive silver-white form crashed through the undergrowth, claws ripping earth and fangs gleaming as I tore through any beetle that dared block my path. Small wounds accumulated across my hide, but I felt no pain—only the desperate need to reach her.

My wolf senses guided me unerringly through the twisted trees, following an invisible thread that seemed to connect my very soul to hers. The forest grew darker and more corrupted with each stride, but nothing could slow my momentum.

I burst through the final line of oak trees and saw a sight that nearly stopped my heart entirely.

A massive black sphere hung suspended in the clearing, composed of countless Hungry Ones writhing and clicking in a grotesque ball. They pulsed and undulated with unnatural hunger, their mandibles creating a horrible symphony of anticipation.

Rage unlike anything I'd felt in centuries erupted from my throat in a howl that shook the very trees. This was pure, primal fury—the wrath of a wolf king whose mate was threatened.

Without thought or strategy, I hurled myself at the seething mass of insects. My claws became weapons of silver light, carving great swaths through their numbers. The creatures scattered and splattered under my assault, revealing glimpses of the scene within.

I saw Vespera's pale, strained face as he poured his remaining magical energy into a flickering green barrier. And there, in the center of the protective dome, was Adelaide—her violet eyes blazing with determination even in the face of death as she shielded a young werewolf and his injured mother.

Even now, with her own life hanging by a thread, she refused to abandon those weaker than herself.

Something twisted painfully in my chest at the sight—a emotion so powerful it threatened to overwhelm even my berserker fury. I redoubled my attacks on the beetles, my claws moving faster than sight as I fought to carve a path to her side.

Whatever was happening to me, whatever this inexplicable connection meant, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: I would tear apart every creature in this forest before I let any harm come to Adelaide.