The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation novel Chapter 126

GABRIELLE

I woke up abruptly, tense. It wasn’t the healing sorceress—I knew exactly who it was.

“Relax, don’t make any sudden movements. I’m just keeping your healthy skin clean, as the healer instructed,” his low, soft voice poured into my ears.

I could picture him leaning over my body, his blond hair falling to his shoulders, his golden eyes focused.

I had only seen him briefly when I expanded my senses upon rebirth. He’s beautiful and masculine, so sexy. He could easily find a mate within his own kind. I’m not the one for him—especially not now, not after what I’ve become.

“You don’t have to do this. There are others who can—”

“Of course, I have to do this. No one can take care of you better than I can,” he said. I remember his voice giving me strength amidst all the chaos and pain.

“No,” I raised my hand, trying to grasp his wrist, frustration burning inside me from not being able to see anything—not even having the power to "see" my surroundings with my mind.

I never thought I’d find myself like this—so useless, so insignificant, so dependent.

“Right now, we’re going to perform the rejection ceremony, like in your race, so you’ll have the chance to find another mate.”

“I won’t accept it. I don’t want to argue with you about this again. I know we don’t know each other, but give me the chance—”

“The chance for what?!” I snapped, trying to sit up, clenching my teeth to hold back a groan of pain.

“Do you really want to chain yourself to a worthless woman? If you’re holding onto the image you saw at the sanctuary, forget it. I’ll never be that again, and even if I could, I don’t want a mate. Do you understand? I wouldn’t have accepted you anyway!”

I rejected him mercilessly. It was better if he hated me. Besides, what I was saying wasn’t far from the truth.

I’m not a healthy woman when it comes to relationships. I never really cared about anything—except my daughter and my former mate, Draven.

In the end, I killed him myself. This man seems like a good person; he doesn’t deserve a harpy like me.

“I, Gabrielle Von Car—” I couldn’t even finish speaking when soft but firm hands pushed me back against the pillow, and his lips brushed against mine, wetting their dryness, sucking them erotically.