I Bought A Male Escort, Turns Out He's The Lycan King novel Chapter 117

**Leaves Falling Like Promises**
**By Amara Grant**
**Chapter 117**

**ΚΑΤ**

The moment my eyelids fluttered open, an onslaught of blinding light assaulted my senses, stabbing through my skull like a thousand needles. I instinctively raised a trembling hand to shield my face, turning my head away in a desperate attempt to escape the brightness. A dull ache throbbed in my temples, as if my head had been cleaved open from within, leaving me disoriented and vulnerable.

Memories flooded back in a chaotic rush, overwhelming my mind. Hunter. The gruesome scene outside. Kostas. Nathan. Each name triggered a wave of emotions, leaving me breathless as I struggled to piece together the fragments of my reality.

With a sudden jolt, I shot upright, my heart racing as I took in my surroundings. I was sprawled on a couch in the drawing room, positioned awkwardly near the inner courtyard. The muffled hum of voices wafted through the open doors, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the tantalizing aroma of food that wafted through the air. My wolf stirred within me, instantly alert and unscathed by whatever sedative had been injected into my system. Thank the stars for that; the spectacle couldn’t commence without her fierce spirit.

“Where is the bride? Wasn’t this supposed to start hours ago?” a gruff voice grumbled from outside. I could sense two auras lingering there, likely guards, their impatience palpable.

“I heard she threw a tantrum. Didn’t like the dress. I saw her poor servants scrambling to get another one,” another voice replied with a hint of disdain.

I glanced down at myself and gasped, my breath hitching in my throat. Long, delicate white lace gloves adorned my arms, and a voluminous gown enveloped me like a shroud. No! They hadn’t! My heart raced as I turned to the mirrored wall, and my worst fears were confirmed.

They had!

They stripped me bare and transformed me while I lay unconscious. My hair, once a vibrant red, had been washed clean, leaving me with a short, layered bob that resembled the girl I used to be—soft, contained, and manageable.

“What the hell?” I whispered, incredulous.

Had it always been this way? Or had I simply never fought hard enough to escape this gilded cage? This was not protection; it was possession, a cruel reminder of my entrapment.

The dress was nothing short of scandalous—strapless silk clung tightly to my form, adorned with a shocking number of diamonds that sparkled painfully in the light. My ears and throat felt heavy under the weight of more diamonds, and—

My mark!

I clutched my neck in a panic, only to find Hunter’s mark still there. Someone must have seen it. How was I still here, on the brink of becoming an unwilling participant in this mating ceremony?

“They should hurry up. Audrey’s parents are alone with her body, mourning by themselves. That princess could have picked a better time,” one of the guards remarked.

“Are you sure it’s her? Didn’t you hear her accuse the king of not giving a damn when we were all locked up in the Great Hall?” the other guard retorted.

“I doubt that’s true. She’s always been spoiled,” came the dismissive grunt.

“Well, there are two funerals now. That rogue’s dead, too. So much disrespect for the dead. No wonder the land is dying,” the first guard added, his voice heavy with disdain.

The mention of the rogue sent a chill through my stomach. Was Nathan truly gone? Had I been played like a pawn in someone else’s game? I recalled the hurried note Randall had typed, the urgency palpable in every word.

Trust us. Play along and buy us time. I’m going to have to knock you out. The mating ceremony is the perfect cover.

What if that had been the plan all along?

The door creaked open, and the woman who had led the omegas into my room stepped inside, a velvet cushion cradled in her hands. My tiara rested delicately atop it, a cruel reminder of the role I was expected to play.

“You’re awake,” she said, her voice laced with forced cheerfulness as she placed the cushion on a side table. “Good. Everything is ready.”

Her smile, bright but unsettling, sent a shiver down my spine. I should have exerted more force when I threw her out of my room earlier; perhaps a punch to the face would have sufficed.

I exhaled slowly, reminding myself that she wasn’t the true enemy. Everyone was blaming me for the state of the pack and for holding this ceremony while grief hung heavy in the air. It wasn’t her fault; it was the oppressive system my parents had constructed.

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