I Bought A Male Escort, Turns Out He's The Lycan King novel Chapter 101

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

**Chapter 100**

**HUNTER**

She had utterly drained me.

Every last drop of strength had been siphoned from my body, leaving me as feeble as a newborn pup, struggling to find its feet. The moment my knot had finally unlocked, I had stumbled upon a cave, hidden deep within the forest’s embrace, seeking refuge. Returning to the guesthouse would have been akin to signing my own death warrant.

As I slumped into the cool shadows of the cave, my fingers brushed against the bite mark on my neck, a reminder of the bond that now thrummed within me. It was a sensation that threaded through every fiber of my being, pulsating with an intensity that was both exhilarating and terrifying. The bond was complete, irrevocable.

My mind felt like it was on the verge of bursting as I contemplated the ramifications of what had just transpired. The darkness beckoned me, and I succumbed to it, exhaustion finally claiming me.

When the first light of dawn broke and I opened my eyes, the world around me had transformed. Everything seemed sharper, more vivid. The sunlight streamed through the trees, illuminating the forest in a way that made it feel alive. The birds sang sweet melodies that danced in the air, and an unfamiliar strength surged through my veins, invigorating me. Perhaps it was because I was now acutely aware of every inch of my body. Was I truly stronger? And her scent—chocolate peppermint—lingered in the air, intoxicating and familiar, already woven into the very essence of who I was.

My thoughts recoiled from the implications of this new reality. Why did my beast feel so jubilant, wagging its metaphorical tail, even as I held the reins of control?

Stupid beast.

How could it be so content when the princess had thrust us into the depths of hell? But none of that mattered now. My fate was mine to decide, and I would not let anyone else dictate my path.

As I made my way back toward the Lordswood territory, a singular thought echoed in my mind: I was well and truly fucked. I should have allowed Rivers to handle her.

The beast within me roared in protest, and my fists clenched tightly at the thought. But deep down, I knew it was the truth. I should have left the moment I realized she had shifted. Now, the nightmare was only just beginning—not just for me, but for my entire pack and the kingdom at large.

When I reached the gates of the territory, I found them unguarded, and I understood why. Christos had commanded everyone to scour the land for his daughter when she went missing. Their relentless search would conclude today, once she recovered and emerged from Rivers’ protection. How would that cowardly king react when he discovered I had spent days with his precious daughter—when he learned that she had claimed me?

My hand instinctively rose to my neck again, and a cold fury surged through me. The princess had turned my life upside down. I refused to yield to my beast simply because she had marked me. An eye for an eye; that had always been the plan.

As I approached the guesthouse, the stench of urine and despair assaulted my senses. I had almost forgotten about those pathetic wretches. How long had it been since I had seen them? The foul odor intensified as I stepped inside. Pausing in the doorway to the lounge, I surveyed the scene before me: people still kneeling, their hearts barely beating, some slumped over in unconsciousness. Only my uncle and a few others remained upright on their knees, swaying like reeds in the wind, their faces pale and drawn.

Jasper finally looked up when he sensed my presence. I had underestimated his resilience. I would have preferred to see him incapacitated, lying in his own filth.

“Who told you about Elijah?” I demanded, my voice low and menacing.

Jasper swayed again but quickly steadied himself, a flash of hatred igniting in his eyes once more.

“I posted people to watch the boundary,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “He came in at night, during the changing of the guards. He didn’t shift to cover more ground, so maybe he was injured.”

His eyes drooped, the conflict between exhaustion and pride evident in his weary expression.

“He was easier to follow,” Uncle continued, his tone laced with bitterness.

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