Possessed Wolfless: From Rejected to Vengeful Lycans' Queen-Chapter 184: Crippled by Memory

Lethia’s breath hitched. What is he talking about? Lyria? How... how could he know that name?

"Ah... I don’t think so. I still have your bead." His voice, flat. Cold. "Did you come to collect it right now? Take it. Do it. But I’m sorry, I’m crippled. You’ll have to be on top and ride me. Are you okay with that, right? Or... does my paralysis disgust you? Like that time, Lyria?"

Caelum kept his gaze distant, frigid, his intonation dripping with open contempt. She clutched the sides of her skirt, confusion searing through her.

"Caelum, What—what are you talking about? I’m... I’m Lethi—"

"That time you said the same thing." He cut her off. "You asked what I was talking about when I found out you were a nine-tailed werefox. You said you were Lyria... the woman who loved me. But then what happened? You lied to me, you manipulated me, you crushed my heart, and said, a monster like me disgusts you."

Lethia clutched her chest. She stumbled, grabbing for an anchor, her head spinning. "Caelum, wait—"

"You said even in the next life, you would still do the same." He gave a bitter, sharp chuckle. "Who would have thought this time I got the memories back before the sex happened. What will you do? Because of that hatred, I can’t even get turned on looking at you right now."

The room spun. Her hand gripped the edge of the sofa, her knees weak. His gaze... that hated, distant cold gaze told her that even if she collapsed now, he wouldn’t care.

"Cael—Caelum, I... I really don’t know what you are talking about. Lyria... Nine-tailed fox... how could you know them?" Her lungs burned. Her breath came in short, ragged bursts.

"Shit! You make me sick. Your moria magic summoned my memories from the past life. Can you stop pretending now?"

"No... I’m not pretending. I’m... Arrgh..." Lethia groaned, clutching her stomach.

She scrambled for the sofa, collapsing onto it. Her eyes winced shut, fighting the sudden, stabbing cramp. She kept groaning, eyes squeezed tight, praying nothing awful was about to happen to her pup.

Once the pain dulled, Lethia opened her eyes, finding Caelum. But his look now was a strange mix of hatred and a familiar, raw worry.

Was he worrying about her now? But why were his words so cold and cruel?

Lethia steadied her breathing as the cramp faded. She looked at Caelum, her expression a plea.

"Caelum, please, let’s just calm down and talk. I really am Lethia... I know about the Lyria and the nine-tailed fox you mean. But right now, I am truly Lethia, Caelum. The woman whose life you saved by throwing your body to get stabbed. Can you remember that?" Lethia pleaded.

By the fierce frown on Caelum’s face and his fist clenching at his side, Lethia could feel the internal storm reflected in his expression. He was wrestling with himself.

If this was the moria magic at work, Caelum was likely one of the men in that old-mansion photograph. She could show him later on Zeran’s phone.

"Yeah... very well. And I regret that." His tone dropped, deep with pain. "I should have let you take the stab and not gotten these horrific memories back at all. You wouldn’t die anyway." His cold facade, the harsh anger, slowly bled away.

Was he only pretending to be cold? He was a good actor.

Lethia slowly forced herself up, moving toward him.

"So you regret it because it brought the memories back? Not because you hate me?" Lethia pushed, hopeful.

Caelum looked startled. He turned his head sharply away, refusing her gaze.

"Of course, I hate you. I hate you because you are Lyria. You are the sly fox. And then and now, you keep manipulating me to take advantage of me."

"What if I’m just Lethia? I am Lethia, Caelum. I know about them, but I am not them. That magic planted the hatred in your heart, but I am not the one who planted it. I am just Lethia. The same as that little girl who bound the wound on your neck with her red scarf. Look at my eyes. Do I look like Lyria?"

Lethia pleaded, frustration boiling over. And it worked.

Caelum’s gaze flickered back to her, showing something soft. Something longing.

Lethia wasn’t sure what memory Caelum had received. But to learn more, she needed Caelum to trust she wouldn’t hurt him.

That memory must have wounded him so deeply he’d forgotten the pain of being crippled.

Just how much of himself had that past life memory taken from Caelum?

’Whisney... are you there? How much longer do you plan to hide? We have new clues. Whisney... don’t leave me in the dark.’ Lethia pleaded to Whisney in her mind.

Why did Whisney always vanish at the crucial time? Did Whisney know all this? Had her memories returned completely? Had Lethia just been played all this time?

Caelum’s gaze softened, though he still couldn’t meet her eyes fully. He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to blow out the rage boiling inside him.

Lethia dared to move closer to his bedside. Her trembling hand slowly reached for him, gently squeezing his wrist.

"Caelum, please... hmm?"

His hand flinched but didn’t pull away.

The moment Lethia’s grip tightened, he turned his head and his eyes were glistening. Tears.

"You should just focus on your mission and not get your emotions tangled up with us again, Queen." His bitter smile twitched.

Hearing the word ’Queen’ made Lethia breathe a sigh of relief.

"Again? Was I... Lyria in my past life?" She asked the question she’d been holding back.

"I hope not. I really do." Caelum’s voice was rough, raw. "I had dreams. A really long one. But once I opened my eyes, I didn’t care about Callista’s scream or the doctors’ panic because I went crippled. My eyes just fixed on my left chest where a round, white light shone. That’s when I realized, it was not just a dream."