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Substitute Bride: Marrying The Hidden Lycan King

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 726    |    Released on: Today at 10:04

a Silver

rmurs of the pack followed us, a river of pity and ridicule. Elara and her frien

emony looked bored, his words rushed.

seemed completely out of place in this sham of a ritual, he held o

," he sa

fingers brushed against them, a faint, surprising warmth seeped into my skin, a gentle pulse tha

his expression was unreadable,

her, and then report to the Omega se

the low. The final, crushing h

" Dravon murmured, his voice a low rumble beside my ear.

n my neck with a surprising gentleness. There was no pain, only a sudden, intense jolt of electricity-the Sparks-that shot through my entir

e through the mark, warm and soothing. It wasn't the all-consuming fire of a

his face as im

ave the square. Walking past the assembled p

ara's admirers, stuck his

the next he was in front of me. The warrior's foot connected with Dravon's leg and the warrior yelp

kept walking, shielding me with his bo

her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by her

ast to the grand stone Packhouse where the Alpha's family lived. Our new home was the smallest, most

hand, not sure what to do with them. T

flowers inside, placing the makeshift vase in the center of the table. It was a silly gesture. They were just weeds. But

unreadable. But for the first time, I thought I saw a

rds to me since we'd b

. I shook my head, my cheeks growing warm.

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Substitute Bride: Marrying The Hidden Lycan King
Substitute Bride: Marrying The Hidden Lycan King
“I was the crippled joke of the Silver Ridge Pack, while my cousin Elara was the perfect future Luna. When a seemingly weak rogue named Dravon arrived to claim Elara as his fated mate with a bouquet of withered flowers, she publicly humiliated and rejected him. To save the pack's face, I stepped up and accepted his bond, becoming the ultimate laughingstock. Elara tossed his wedding gift-those withered weeds-into a muddy animal trough. Out of quiet defiance, I picked them out of the slop and ate the mud-stained petals. But those weeds turned out to be mythical Blood Moonflowers, priceless treasures that triggered a violent, agonizing healing process in my cursed leg. Seeing my pain, my terrified mother and the arrogant pack healer restrained my mate. "Apply the silver dust salve," the healer declared proudly, ignoring Dravon's desperate warnings. Silver was a death sentence for my dark magic curse. I lay helpless on the cot, watching my own mother eagerly assist the man about to permanently destroy my leg. Why was my family so blind? Why did they always choose to break me? Just as the deadly silver paste was about to touch my skin, a terrifying, god-like pressure suddenly shattered the air in the tent. My "weak" rogue mate's voice echoed directly in my mind. "Close your eyes. Don't be afraid."”