The Secret Heirs of the Lycan King (Bella and scott) novel Chapter 72

**When Midnight Winds Carry Secrets Toward Worlds Yet Unknown**
**Chapter 72**

**Bella**

Scott leaned back just enough to meet my gaze fully, his expression shifting into something more serious. The tension in his jaw was palpable, and his eyes bore a weight I had never seen before.

“I was going to tell you,” he murmured, his voice low, almost as if he were afraid to disturb the fragile moment between us. “I just… wanted more time.”

“Tell me now,” I urged, my voice barely above a whisper. I couldn’t shake the question that had been gnawing at me: What set him apart from the rest of the wolves?

He exhaled slowly, as if preparing to divulge a deeply buried secret. “I’m not like most wolves,” he began, his tone grave. “Regular werewolves shift into wolves. I shift into a Lycan. It’s… older. Stronger than wolves. Harder to control. I’m the last Lycan left in the world. And Lycans have a rut season. It comes around this time of year. During rut, the drive to… mate, to have sex, is stronger. It’s like every instinct is amplified. If there is someone we care about, someone we love—or especially a mate—the urge is much more intense around them.”

My heart raced in my chest, pounding so fiercely that I feared he could hear it. He was the last Lycan? The weight of that revelation pressed down on me, and the implications were staggering. Not only was he a king among his kind, but he was also in a state of frenzied longing.

“So you’re saying,” I began cautiously, my voice trembling slightly, “that right now you’re in rut. And I’m… here.”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his gaze unwavering. “And my beast is very aware of you. All the time.”

I felt myself freeze, a chill creeping down my spine.

Before panic could fully take hold, he reached up, cradling my face in his hands with a gentleness that belied the turmoil within him. His touch anchored me, forcing me to lock eyes with him.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “No matter what I feel, no matter what my beast desires, I will not touch you in a way you don’t want. I will not push you. I will not hurt you, and I won’t do anything until you say yes. That’s a promise.”

As I held his gaze, I saw nothing but sincerity and determination reflected back at me. There was no deceit in his eyes, and the tension in my chest began to ease. I nodded slowly, allowing myself to lean into him, feeling a sense of safety wash over me. “Okay,” I whispered. “I believe you.”

We lay in silence for a moment, the weight of our conversation hanging in the air.

“How will you control yourself, Scott?” I asked, my curiosity piqued. “Rather, how did you manage to control yourself all these years?” A part of me feared the answer, wondering if he had sought solace with other she-wolves or even humans when I wasn’t around during this time. The thought ignited a flicker of anger within me.

As if sensing my turmoil, he responded, “I take heavy medication to suppress my Lycan’s urges during this time of year. Though he goes wild, and I have to let him run free in the forests to expend his energy. Surprisingly, my Lycan hasn’t shown that kind of madness this year. He is… patiently waiting at the moment. Before you, I never took a woman, and after I met you—I couldn’t… It was impossible to touch or be with another woman.”

My heart twisted painfully in my chest, and I felt tears welling in my eyes. The realization that he had been fighting against his nature, taking medication to suppress his instincts, and that I was the only woman in his life, hit me like a tidal wave. The rumors swirling in the papers suddenly felt trivial compared to the depth of his sacrifice. I felt a wave of guilt wash over me for the times I had pushed him away.

I looked up at him, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that…” I murmured, my heart aching for him. “I love you. I want you to feel better soon.”

“I want this to be resolved, Scott,” I murmured against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body. “But I need to go back home. The kids must be anxious without me.”

“If that’s what you want,” he said, tightening his embrace around me, “I can have them brought here. It might be good for them to see this place. There’s space to run, trees to climb. Ryan would probably love the woods.”

The image of Ryan bounding through the trees filled my heart with warmth. I could see him, a little pup at heart, and Emma with her wide eyes, exploring every nook and cranny. My children had always been drawn to nature, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of the wild spirit they inherited from him.

“Yes,” I replied slowly, a quiet excitement bubbling within me. “Ryan loves trees and mud and everything that makes laundry harder. He’d be all over this place.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of my head. “Then let’s bring them.”

For just a fleeting second, I considered confessing the truth, the words lingering on the tip of my tongue: They’re yours.

But fear gripped me, heavy and suffocating. What if he denied it? What if everything I had just discovered slipped away the moment I spoke those words? So I swallowed the confession, tucking it away once more.

“Okay,” I said instead, summoning a smile. “Let’s bring them.”

Perhaps I would arrange for a DNA test in secret, a way to uncover the truth before revealing it to him with undeniable proof.