Bought by the Beast King (Katerina and hunter) novel Chapter 116

**Leaves Falling Like Promises**
**By Amara Grant**
**Chapter 116**

**KAT**

My brother stood resolutely outside the door, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that felt almost suffocating. The silence between us stretched out, heavy and thick, as if it were a living thing. My anger simmered just beneath the surface, but as moments passed, it began to morph into a creeping panic. I strained to hear Nathan’s heartbeat, but it was fading, slipping away like the last light of day.

The omegas had vanished, and the chaos I had created with clothes and jewelry lay tidied away, but Kostas remained a looming presence, flanked by the royal guards who stood like statues behind him. His fury was palpable, radiating off him in waves. There was something chilling in the depths of his eyes, a cold glint that sent shivers down my spine. Was it possession? An arrogant belief in his inevitable victory? It wasn’t merely arrogance; it was an unwavering certainty. In that moment, I realized Kostas would stop at nothing to ensure that he marked me, to claim me as his own.

I needed to dissuade him from his foolish ambitions, and quickly. Yet, even as that thought crystallized in my mind, dread coiled tightly in my gut. I could envision him ending up like the bloody chaos that had unfolded outside—broken and defeated.

Suddenly, the commotion at the end of the hall distracted me from my thoughts of Kostas. Two men appeared, their heads bowed in deference as they approached. A wave of relief washed over me, making my shoulders sag as I exhaled. One man was older, his hair a striking silver, neatly tied back, while the other looked to be only a few years older than I was.

“You asked to see us, Prince Lordswood?” the older man inquired, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.

“Come in quickly,” I urged, stepping aside to allow them entry. “I’m not sure what’s happening to him.”

They hesitated, their eyes averted, unwilling to meet my gaze.

Kostas’s lips twisted into a smirk that was both cold and calculated. The bruise I had left on his jaw still lingered, a testament to our earlier confrontation, yet he was determined to assert his dominance over me. My glare bore into him, a growl rumbling deep in my chest. The sound echoed in the hall, and this time, I wasn’t surprised; I knew it was mine.

Kostas’s smirk faltered, his top lip twitching in response.

“Find out what’s wrong with him,” Kostas commanded, directing his words at the men.

“And heal him,” I added, my voice firm despite the fear clawing at my insides.

There was a tense pause as Kostas fixed his gaze on me again, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned ghostly white.

“And heal him,” he repeated through gritted teeth, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Only then did the men step into my quarters. I instinctively blocked the doorway when Kostas attempted to follow.

“Stay out here. I don’t trust you,” I declared, my voice unwavering despite the tension crackling in the air. I could see the muscles in his jaw twitch before I slammed the door shut, cutting off his presence.

As I turned back, the men were already kneeling beside Nathan, their movements swift and purposeful. One of them took Nathan’s pulse while the other examined his eyes, their expressions shifting from concern to alarm as they removed his shirt. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the sight before me. The red veins on his back had darkened, nearly black, twisting grotesquely down his spine. I staggered back, overwhelmed by the sheer horror of it.

His chest, his arms, his hands—every inch of him seemed to be marred by this dark magic. The bruise on his neck had transformed into a gaping wound, festering and oozing.

“What the hell happened?” one of the witches exclaimed, his voice laced with disbelief.

I felt my heart squeeze painfully in my chest as I noticed how they both stepped back, their faces pale. Was it truly that grave? Nathan had seemed fine just a short while ago.

“Something grabbed him,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “That Lycan who died outside.”

The men exchanged worried glances, their expressions grave.

“This isn’t normal magic,” the older man stated, his brow furrowing deeply. “It’s darker, forbidden. I’m not sure we can help him now.”

“There has to be a way,” I pleaded, gripping Nathan’s hand tightly.

The older man gently pried my fingers away, his attention returning to Nathan’s frail form.

“The magic has already reached his heart. It acts like poison,” he explained, resignation creeping into his voice.

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