Betrayed Heiress: My Second Chance Mate is A Lycan King

Aira’s POVExclusive content from NôvelDrama.Org.

My arms are folded above my chest as I stay leaned up against the doorframe. I was on the balcony, overseeing the entire palace compound. The air was still cold, but the rising sun brought it a little warmth, which grew by the minute.

It has been three days since Alex and I paid Louis a little surprise visit. And surprisingly, he stayed true to his word and supplied us with a hundred of his best soldiers. And with Alex’s new recruits, it was safe to say that our kingdom was as good as armed.

Our soldiers were parading the whole kingdom, and we had placed some security at our borders to inform us of any approaching rogues.

Jared would never take us by surprise again, and if he was stupid enough to try it, he would be walking straight into his own execution. He will not get away with his crimes. Not again.

My mind would occasionally replay my last moment with Elizandra; she genuinely looked saddened by the path Jared had taken. It was such a shame that his crimes were way too grave for a prison sentence. He had to pay with his life.

My lips part and a long yawn escapes my lips.

“You left bed early,” says a voice I knew all too well. It came from behind me, so I didn’t bother to look at him. His approaching footsteps fill my ears until he is standing right by my side on the balcony.

I rest my head on the doorframe, tightening the grip I had on myself. “I couldn’t sleep,” I say quietly, and he hums.

“You haven’t been able to sleep in three days,” he says, and my eyes snap to his in surprise. I had no idea that he was aware of that. This morning was my first time leaving the bedroom, but the other two nights I just laid in bed staring at the ceiling. I genuinely thought he was sound asleep.

“I didn’t think you would notice,” I whisper, and he scoffs.

“You must really think low of me; you think you can hide anything from me, especially something like this from me. How can I not possibly sense that my mate is troubled when sleeping beside me?” He asks, and I stay silent. I didn’t know what to say to that. So he continues by asking. “Do you still see them? Your family?”

My eyelids fell shut, and for a moment it felt as though I was on the verge of getting even a wink of sleep. That is when it starts… the voices.

“I am coming for you.”

“You can’t run from me.”

“I will kill you.”

My eyelids fly apart, and my eyes grow wider than saucers. Alex watches me carefully, waiting for me to respond to his question.

“Yes. Whenever I would shut my eyes or even think of sleeping, I would start to hear and see them,” I admit tiredly, and Alex purses his lips.

“We need to go see the witches and tell them about this. Perhaps they could offer us a solution,” Alex suggests, and just when I part my lips to reply, Arnold joins us.

“Good morning, Luna, alpha.” He says to both of us, and we acknowledge his greeting with a nod. “We just received a call from Alpha Louis. He informed us that Jared has contacted him and requested some rogues. The meeting place is Saint Salvadore Street behind the old ceramic factory at nine p. m. tonight,” he informs us, and Alex and I share a glance.

“Send two guards to the area by five to scout the area for any suspicious movement or activity; we need to be certain that we won’t be walking into another trap. And in the meantime, ready the men and weapons. If Jared really is going to be there, then we better prepare ourselves for the war that is about to go down,” Alex tells Arnold, who just nods in understanding.

He bows his head in submission before taking his leave.

I return my attention to the outside world. My eyes fall on the orange like the sun creeping over the horizon; the warm air fanned our skin and caressed our hair softly. The sight is supposed to be comfort and serenity, but it only brought me irritation and nausea.

Something in the courtyard catches my attention, and it turns out to be someone. Carla.

She is wearing a yellow sundress and has her hair down. She is walking into the courtyard with a basket in her hand, and my curiosity gets the better of me. Alex follows my line of vision, and we watch Carla from the balcony.

Once she feels she has found the perfect stop beside an old oak tree, she takes a look around. My eyebrows shoot to the top of my head when she sets the basket on the grass and takes out a blanket. She spreads it across the grass and sets out two plates.

That’s strange. Is she having a visitor or something?

She places some fruits on both plates and takes out a single red rose. She inhales its sweet scent and places it beside her guest’s plate.

“I guess Carla has made a new friend,” Alex says beside me, and I remain quiet. That was strange, Carla was balling her eyes out when I passed by her room this morning. And now she is having a mini-picnic with someone?

But that is when I see something that breaks my heart into a thousand pieces.

She takes out a mini portrait from the basket and places it behind her visitor’s plate. When I squint my eyes, a pang strikes my heart when I see that it is a picture of my uncle Richard.

Carla settles down on the blanket and takes a bite out of her apple. And then she starts to talk to the picture, and I mean, have a full conversation with it.

The sight was both beautiful and sad.

“Promise me something, Alex,” I say quietly, and his eyes shift to me. “Promise me Jared will die tonight.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, and I fear that would be a promise he wouldn’t be able to keep. But that was until he said,

“I promise.”