Bought by the Beast King (Katerina and hunter) novel Chapter 91

**Leaves Falling Like Promises**
**By Amara Grant**
**Chapter 91**

ΚΑΤ

“She’s mine.”

What on earth did he mean by that?

Those words had been reverberating in my mind ever since Kostas had stormed out of the cabin, leaving me alone with Mr. Rivers. The impact of his declaration was like a hammer striking an anvil, and I couldn’t shake it off.

“Shit,” Mr. Rivers had muttered, the words barely audible as he turned to face me, that infuriating smirk returning to his lips. “Shall we head back?”

I had been too stunned to utter a single word, too bewildered to even inquire about the strange events of the previous night. Now, I stood before the mirror, freshly washed and squeezed into yet another gown. The reflection staring back at me was doe-eyed and soft. Innocent. But deep down, I knew that wasn’t who I was anymore.

With a heavy sigh, I turned away from the mirror, my coppery-red dress swirling around my feet as I made my way to the lounge. I was taken aback when my stylist had pulled out this bold choice instead of the usual royal blues that were customary for such occasions. The gown was strapless and form-fitting, adorned with dramatic draping and ruffles that cascaded like the waves of the sea. The rich hue complemented my freshly retouched red hair, making me feel both vibrant and exposed.

Was this a sign that Mother was finally willing to change? It was astonishing that she hadn’t even demanded I strip the color from my hair, a small victory in my otherwise chaotic life.

A gentle knock on the door pulled me from my spiraling thoughts, and I caught a whiff of Mother’s signature jasmine scent wafting in from the other side. When one of the omegas opened the door, she bowed deeply and stepped aside, allowing the queen to glide into the room.

It struck me as strange; Mother hadn’t visited my quarters since I was a child. When she wasn’t orchestrating my life from the shadows—arranging my dates, managing the castle affairs—she was always by Father’s side, thriving in that role.

Now, as she entered wearing a royal blue gown that flowed elegantly around her, the mantle draped perfectly, and the crown perched atop her head, she looked like a ghost of the woman I once knew. Her shoulders appeared bony, her arms too thin, and her face sagged slightly from the weight of lost pounds. Despite the bright smile she wore, her eyes held a lifelessness that struck me.

I rose from my seat and bowed, adhering to the etiquette that felt more like a chore than a practice, especially given the unusual nature of her visit. I was at a loss regarding its purpose.

“You look beautiful,” she said, her hands enveloping mine, her gaze sweeping over my dress as if she was cataloging it in her mind, a habit she had perfected over countless encounters.

“Thank you, Mother. You look lovely as well,” I replied, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask than genuine warmth.

She guided me back to the couch, sitting close beside me, still holding my hand as if she feared I might flee. The thought crossed my mind more than once. I had spent the day in a haze, grappling with the implications of Kostas’s words. Did he mean them as a brotherly declaration, or was there something more unsettling lurking beneath?

It was absurd to be preoccupied with such thoughts when my skin felt like it was crawling, and the bustling castle had become a cacophony of noise that overwhelmed my senses. I could sense my wolf stirring within me, but here I was, entangled in thoughts about my brother’s strange fixation.

“Everyone is here, so we’ll head down in a moment,” Mother announced, her tone brisk.

“Isn’t Kostas coming?” I asked, my voice laced with confusion. He had always been the one to escort me to these gatherings.

A flicker of something passed through Mother’s eyes, and her smile faltered for just a moment before returning with a fierce intensity.

“It’s our first party since you returned. There’s so much for him to oversee,” she replied, her words dripping with an urgency that set off alarm bells in my mind.

Another lie.

“What’s happening here, Mum?” I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache creeping in.

If she was taken aback by my use of “Mum” instead of “Mother,” she didn’t voice it. But I was done playing this charade.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“I come back, and it’s just the same old nonsense—”

“Language,” she interjected, correcting me with that practiced ease.

“See? This is exactly what I mean! I’m not the same little girl you kept caged up,” I snapped, pulling my hands away from hers. “You haven’t even bothered to ask me about my life, what I’ve experienced. You’ve just tossed me back into this…” This circus, where I was the main attraction, the oddity on display for everyone to gawk at.

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