Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 65

**Fireflies in Winter Rain — Neil A. Varma**
**Chapter 65**

Cassian,

The night stretched endlessly before me, a dark void where sleep eluded me completely. I found myself perched on a chair, arms wrapped tightly around my chest, my gaze fixed on the woman who had so unexpectedly entered my life just a few months prior.

Her presence was like a flicker of light in the shadows of my existence. If it hadn’t been for her, I might have succumbed to the poison that coursed through my veins. Yet, her arrival brought with it an intrigue I found impossible to resist. When I discovered she was my mate, I felt a surge of hesitation wash over me. Beauty and perfection had never held much sway over my heart; I had never imagined I would find a true mate.

In our world, it was exceedingly rare for Lycans to bond with werewolves, as our strengths and weaknesses often clashed. But with her, there was an unexpected harmony that defied my expectations.

That morning, it felt as though she possessed an innate understanding of my needs. My body felt lighter, as if it had finally been set free from the chains of longing. I had no regrets about the time spent with her, yet I couldn’t fathom why she seemed to loathe it so deeply.

Was it Alexander’s shadow that loomed over her? Or was it the very nature of our bond that troubled her? Perhaps we could have forged a connection devoid of romance, simply two souls navigating the complexities of life together.

But then there was Keane. The way he looked at her, with an intensity that suggested he could forget the world around him just to remain by her side, stirred something within me.

Since her arrival, my life had felt strangely complete. Even without a romantic connection, there was an unspoken dependency that had blossomed between us, a feeling I hadn’t experienced in years.

When Alpha Davis sent out that official email regarding yesterday’s meeting, I hadn’t had the time to absorb its contents fully. Yet, a simmering anger bubbled beneath the surface, tightening my jaw and igniting a fire in my blood. I envisioned myself tearing his eyes from their sockets and putting him in his place, though I couldn’t quite understand the root of my fury. I had always been appreciative of those who had helped my family and me.

I kept my eyes shut, lost in this whirlwind of thoughts, until a knock at the door pulled me from my reverie. I turned to see Keane standing there, a bag in hand, with a nurse trailing behind him.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” he said, stepping forward with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I brought some clothes for Her Highness. She mentioned she wasn’t fond of the hospital uniform!” He set the bag down on the table and gestured toward the nurse. “She’ll assist her!”

“Thank you,” I replied, rubbing the bridge of my nose, feeling the roughness in my voice that spoke of sleepless nights.

“You should rest, Your Majesty! I can stay here for a while!” There was a note of concern in Keane’s voice, but beneath it lay something else—an undercurrent that suggested he wanted me to leave, to make way for him to be by her side.

I raised my hand to halt him. “It’s alright. You should return to your duties. You haven’t attended your training in quite some time.”

His expression faltered, a flicker of disappointment mingling with sadness crossing his features. He hesitated, lips parting as if to voice his thoughts, but ultimately turned and exited the room in silence.

The nurse cast a wary glance in my direction before approaching Roana. “Her Highness is stable now. Surprisingly, her healing powers are more rapid than those of the average werewolf!”

With careful precision, she removed the IV drip from Roana’s wrist, her movements both gentle and efficient. Then, she picked up a folder from the table and handed it to me. “Here’s her X-ray report. Her ribs are completely healed. This is the first case we’ve encountered like this.”

“I see,” I murmured, scanning the documents. My jaw tightened as I moved from the old scans depicting shattered bones to the new images showcasing complete healing. The realization ignited a fury within me; the Northern Region needed to be taught a lesson.

“Can she walk now?” I asked, my tone sharper than I had intended.

The nurse hesitated, her expression uncertain. “Oh, no. She must remain bedridden for a while. Initially, we thought that her physical weight might hinder her recovery, but it turns out that her wolf is the reason she appears larger and stronger than the average werewolf.”

“Thank you for the information. Please keep this under wraps for now,” I instructed firmly.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied, bowing slightly before exiting the room with a quiet grace, leaving me alone with my swirling thoughts.

Mortia Island existed outside any known territory. It operated as an independent pack, governed by its own stringent laws and an iron grip on its borders. Their discipline was unwavering, their ruthlessness legendary.

I exhaled slowly, rubbing my hand across my face, feeling the weight of the situation settling heavily on my shoulders. It was time to delve deeper into her background.

As I stared at the DNA report again, the confirmation of her pure-blood Silver Wolf lineage loomed large in my mind. But then, I felt a gentle touch on my lap.

Startled, I looked down to find her hand resting there, weak but warm. Then I heard her sleepy voice, soft and inviting.

“I want fried chicken, Cassian,” Roana murmured, burying her face into the pillow. Her words were muffled, yet the familiar pout in her tone was unmistakable.

A chuckle escaped me before I could suppress it, the tension in my chest easing slightly. I rose slowly, placing the reports back on the table, and settled onto the bed beside her. The sheets were warm, infused with her comforting scent.

“Alright,” I whispered, wrapping my arm around her waist from behind, feeling her breathing steady against me. “Once you can move your jaw properly.” I buried my face against her back, relishing the softness of her skin beneath the thin fabric. “So get well soon.”

“Okay… Mnm,” she mumbled, drifting back into the realm of dreams, her fingers curling loosely around mine.