Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 121

**Title: Fireflies in Winter Rain — Neil A. Varma**
**Chapter 121**

Roana.

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I lay in bed, my head pounding like a drum, each throb echoing through my skull. A thick fog of confusion wrapped around me, refusing to let me calm my racing thoughts. The time difference between the Southern Region and this place felt disorienting, as if I had been yanked from one reality and dropped into another without warning. How had Keane managed to bring me here? It seemed implausible that I could travel such a distance without regaining consciousness at some point along the way.

With a groan, I pushed myself up into a sitting position, already feeling the absence of my phone like a phantom limb. Keane had claimed ignorance about its whereabouts, which only added to my mounting frustration. I needed to return home; the thought was a relentless echo in my mind. Despite the torment it inflicted on me, I had signed a legal contract with Cassian. The last thing I wanted was to become entangled in a legal battle with him.

And who knew what kind of schemes he might concoct to drag me back into my old role? Elle was still missing, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the Northern Region’s focus would shift to Carolyn, leaving me as her unwitting scapegoat.

As I slipped on my slippers and opened the door, a gust of ocean breeze swept in, laden with the salty scent of the sea. The sudden rush of air sent a wave of dizziness crashing over me, and I barely managed to steady myself before I hit the floor. My mind raced as I weighed my options—should I search for a telephone or find a receptionist to help me? Just then, a voice cut through my thoughts.

“Hi. Are you living in that room?”

I turned slowly, my muscles stiffening as I faced a man lounging on the stairs. Wisps of smoke from his cigarette curled upward in perfect rings, only to be scattered by the wind. His gaze was sharp and penetrating, as if he could see right through me.

I didn’t respond immediately, caught off guard by the bitter scent of smoke that lingered in the air around me.

“Not gonna answer? It’s fine,” he said, rising to his feet with a languid grace. “The guy who keeps delivering meals to your room. Be careful about him. He isn’t a good guy.”

Disbelief washed over me. My fingers gripped the doorframe tightly as I shot back, “Who are you talking about?” My voice came out colder than I had intended, laced with suspicion.

He exhaled, a plume of smoke escaping his lips as he regarded me with a dark intensity. “The guy with brownish-black hair.”

Keane? My stomach dropped at the thought. No, that was absurd. I had never trusted Lorenzo, but Keane was different. He had always been there for me, a steadfast presence whenever I needed him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I scrutinized him closely. He didn’t carry the weight of an Alpha wolf—he was likely a Beta or Omega—but there was something unsettling about him, a strange pressure that made the air around us feel heavy.

“Judging by your expression, you don’t trust me. Well, it’s not like people usually trust strangers. Still, be careful around him. It won’t cost you anything, will it?”

With that, he ambled away, waving his hand dismissively. I noted that he was barefoot, a half-burnt cigar dangling between his fingers, and his disheveled appearance—loose t-shirt, unkempt hair—made him look like a weary writer who had long forgotten the meaning of rest.

I tried to shake off the unease he had instilled in me and stepped outside the building, which resembled a small penthouse rather than a hotel. Yet, I found myself wandering aimlessly, unsure of how to reach the reception area. My steps felt slow and uncertain, as if the ground beneath me was shifting.

“Oh, you could have just asked him about it,” Rye chimed in, her voice echoing in my mind.

I inhaled deeply, deciding to follow the man quietly. He noticed me almost immediately, pausing to raise an eyebrow in question.

“What’s wrong? Do you need anything?” he asked, his tone casual, as if we were old friends.

“Well, I would like to ask about the reception area. I couldn’t find the way.” I glanced back at the building, which felt more like a private residence than a hotel, despite Keane’s insistence otherwise.

“Hotel?” He scoffed, his disdain palpable. “This is private property. Each apartment has its own owners.”

“What?” The word slipped from my lips, a gasp of disbelief. My heart raced, and I felt the pulse quicken in my veins.

He scrutinized me with narrowed eyes, as if assessing my worth. “What did you think? The room you’re staying in is some kind of suite?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came. I remembered the opulent royal suite I had occupied in the Ocean Region while with Cassian. This place was smaller, yes, but still exuded a sense of luxury that made it easy to mistake it for a VIP suite.

He continued to scan me, his gaze piercing. “There’s no reception area or anything. Seems like you don’t own that apartment. What are you? A kept woman?”

“What?” My voice snapped out before I could rein it in. Heat rushed to my cheeks, igniting my temper. “Aren’t you rude? Judging people after meeting them for the first time? You don’t even know me.”

“Well, I couldn’t understand why else you would stay in this kind of luxurious place that you didn’t own. Except you are a—”

Before I could think, Rye surged forward, seizing his arm and delivering a sharp punch to his face.

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