Substitute Bride: Marrying The Hidden Lycan King

Chapter 5

Word Count: 581 | Released on: Today at 10:04

a Silver

Stonefang Clan. He was a mountain of a man, known for his brute strength and harsh rule. Elara, dressed in a stunning

re polite but brief. He kept scanning our territory,

nds, Alaric suddenly stopped dead. His head snappe

ng away from the pristine training grounds and heading directly for the Omega sector.

ing straight for the livestock pen

iberately trying to humiliate her by seeki

redator examining a scent trail, not a madman groping in muck. He ran his fingers along

in a crack in the stone-a tiny, smeared

sharp and intelligent, now widened with a loo

able. He carefully scraped the muddy residue from the crack onto his fingertip. Then, he br

ook of pure ecstasy washed over his face, as

olute silence. Had a visiting Alpha

rby fence, and we witnessed the entire scene.

his arms crossed. A small, cold smile touched

dfather by the front of his ceremonial robes, his eyes wild. "What was this?"

terrified. "I-I don't know

ind was clearly replaying the moment she'd thrown Dravon's "withered wee

s into the trough, frantically sifting through

e crowd of stunned faces. His gaze swept past Ela

eyes locke

ld smell it. The faint, pure, energetic res

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Substitute Bride: Marrying The Hidden Lycan King

JANICE KELLEY Fantasy

“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."”