Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 110

**TITLE: Fireflies in Winter Rain — Neil A. Varma**
**Chapter 110**

Roana.

As the grand palace doors swung open with a creak that echoed through the marble halls, Cassian strode forward, my body draped unceremoniously over his shoulder. I could feel the sudden stillness in the air, the way Carolyn’s hands froze mid-motion, her purse and small bag slipping from her grip as if they were mere feathers. Her eyes widened, reflecting a mix of shock and disbelief, as though she had encountered a ghost from a forgotten past. A rush of heat flooded my cheeks, and I could sense every single muscle in my face tightening in embarrassment. All around us, the servants paused, their gazes fixed on the scene unfolding before them. I could only imagine the thoughts swirling in their minds, each one more judgmental than the last.

The pressure of Cassian’s body against mine was unyielding yet careful, a paradox that made my legs burn against his sides. I felt the tension radiating from him, thick and palpable, as he ignored Carolyn’s feeble attempt to speak. His jaw was set tight, eyes focused straight ahead, as though he were marching into battle rather than toward the sanctuary of his bedroom.

I swallowed hard, the sound echoing in the silence, acutely aware of the multitude of eyes lingering on me. I squirmed, attempting to wriggle down from his hold, but he tightened his grip subtly, an unspoken command that left no room for protest. “I can get down,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath, almost swallowed by the atmosphere around us.

He remained silent, but his fingers brushed against my thighs, steadying me with a touch that sent a jolt of electricity through my body. My breath hitched in my throat, caught between anticipation and something more primal. The teasing whisper that followed made my cheeks burn hotter than the sun blazing above.

“Be a good girl, my little marshmallow! You shouldn’t make me more desperate than I am right now!”

My eyes widened, lips parting slightly in shock. The flush creeping up my neck and ears felt like a wildfire, consuming me from within. Words escaped me, my hands instinctively clutching his shoulders in a desperate attempt to steady myself as my composure frayed at the edges.

The hallway blurred around us as we moved, my heartbeat drumming so loudly in my ears that I was convinced everyone in the palace could hear it. Each step he took felt like a torturous stretch of time, filled with a mix of anticipation and embarrassment. I dared not look at the other servants; their knowing glances only served to heighten my sense of exposure, leaving me feeling utterly vulnerable.

At last, he reached the door to the bedroom. He didn’t pause, didn’t knock, didn’t even acknowledge my presence. With a single, powerful motion, he swung the door open and stepped inside, pulling me along with him. I hesitated for a brief moment, uncertainty gnawing at me, but the strength of his hold rendered any thoughts of escape futile.

The door clicked shut behind us, the sound reverberating in the quiet room, and the atmosphere shifted dramatically. My heart raced, pounding erratically in my chest as I took in the space around us.

Every nerve in my body tightened, shivering under the weight of his presence. The scent of him enveloped me—the faint metallic tang of blood from his lip, the warmth radiating from his skin, and the wild, primal essence of his Lycan nature. It was intoxicating, pressing against me, urgent and demanding, impossible to ignore.

Finally, he set me down, though not gently. It was a deliberate motion, one that left me feeling anything but safe. A predatory grin spread across his face, sharp and teasing, igniting a storm of conflicting emotions within me. My stomach lurched, caught in the tumult of fear and anticipation. The intensity of his gaze held me captive, a shiver of heat crawling up my spine.

Without warning, he leaned in slightly, his tongue flicking out to taste the cut on his bottom lip. The movement was deliberate, almost taunting. My chest constricted, breath hitching in my throat, and my lips parted in a soft gasp. The heat radiating from my cheeks intensified, and I struggled to focus on anything, anything at all, to steady myself, but my gaze remained locked onto him, despite every rational thought screaming for me to look away.

“You must pay for the seduction,” he said, the grin still etched on his face, bold and playful, almost daring me to respond.

The weight of the moment made me sway on unsteady legs. My wolf inside me stirred, excited, sensing the surge of energy, the magnetic pull of the mate-bond that throbbed harder than my own heartbeat. I yearned to move, to run, to touch him—anything—but my body refused to obey.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he reached out, pressing me back lightly against the bed. The soft thump echoed in the stillness, my heart racing violently in response. His eyes bore into mine, golden flecked with shadows, intense and almost feral in their focus.

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