Reborn As The Lycan King's Fated Mate

Ivy POV

The heavy thud of iron doors opening echoed through the damp stone chamber.

Darius stepped into the flickering torchlight, draped in the majestic robes of the Lycan King. I lifted my head, a desperate plea dying in my throat as I met his eyes. There was no love. Only absolute, freezing disgust.

"Did you really think I would crown a wolfless bastard as my Luna?" Darius’s voice echoed off the damp stone walls, shattering my final illusion. "I never loved you, Ivy. I killed Tate. I framed Kyler. You were nothing but a convenient weapon to clear my path to the throne and avenge my beloved Adamaris."

He glanced at my stomach, his lip curling. "Whip her with the silver lash. Thirty times a day until she rots."

He turned and walked away, leaving me drowning in a sea of shattered faith. I screamed his name, a hoarse, blood-choked sound, but he didn't look back.

Before the echo of my scream could fade, a litter carried by Omega servants was lowered into the cell. Sitting upon it, draped in the opulent silks of the Luna Queen, was Denisse. Her useless legs were hidden beneath velvet, but her beautiful face was twisted in a victorious, venomous smile.

"Look at you," Denisse purred, signaling the guard to pause his silver whip. "The great assassin. The loyal lover. You sacrificed everything for a man who despises you."

I thrashed against the silver chains, the metal searing my bones. "I should have aimed that blade at your throat, Denisse!"

She laughed, a high, grating sound. "But you didn't. And now, I get to watch you die. But before you do, little sister, there is one last thing you need to know about the Lycan King you murdered."

She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "Did you never wonder why Kyler let you kill him? Why a Lycan King with unmatched power didn't tear you to shreds the moment you drew that silver dagger?"

My breath hitched. The agonizing burn in my collarbones suddenly felt distant, eclipsed by a cold dread pooling in my stomach.

"He knew, Ivy," Denisse whispered, her words slicing deeper than any physical blade. "Kyler knew you were his Fated Mate. He loved you so much that he chose to die by your hand rather than hurt you."

The world stopped spinning. The air vanished from my lungs.

The stench of my own rotting flesh mixed with the suffocating scent of wolfsbane in the Silvermoon Dungeon. Thick silver chains pierced directly through my collarbones, the holy metal burning my skin and completely severing my werewolf healing abilities. I hung there, a broken, wolfless prisoner, my slightly swollen belly a cruel mockery of the future I thought I was fighting for.

I had done it all for him. For Darius.

When my adoptive father, the legendary Gamma Tate, was assassinated, Darius fabricated the royal scent and traces at the crime scene. With my wolfless senses, I couldn't see through the lie. I believed Lycan King Kyler was the tyrant who destroyed my family.

So, I became Darius’s blade. I used Kyler’s inexplicable leniency toward me to get close. In the Great Hall, I plunged a silver dagger coated in high-grade wolfsbane straight into Kyler’s heart. He possessed the terrifying strength of a Lycan King, yet he didn't even raise a hand to stop me.

Because I was wolfless, I had never felt the pull. I had never recognized his scent. I had taken the only soul in this world who truly loved me, the only one who could have given me the Soul's Peace, and I had driven a poisoned silver blade into his heart.