Possessed Wolfless: From Rejected to Vengeful Lycans' Queen-Chapter 188: Where The Misery Start

Renar knew the woman whose fingers were tangled warmly with his looked like Lethia.

But he winced again as he kept running, stepping over dry grass and twisting roots on the damp soil.

His breath stuttered. Tight. Uneven. Like something unnamed was curling in his chest. His head throbbed, as if sharp thorns were stabbing behind his skull. His memories as Renar blurred, melting into strange yet familiar ones—like he wasn’t Renar at all in the world beneath his feet.

"Reon, there. Let’s wait out the rain over there."

The woman guiding him pointed at a bamboo stilt hut under a towering oak tree.

The sight of it jolted something deep inside him—an instinct snapping awake. His pulse raced with a strange, breathless anticipation, as if he already knew exactly what would happen there.

They ran again, but this time he took the lead. Reon. Pulling the woman with a firm, impatient grip.

The confusion of who he truly was no longer mattered.

He was Reon now, and the woman in his hand was his fated mate, chosen by the Moon Goddess.

However, even before the beast in him roaring at today’s bond, she had always been the one he loved—deep enough to be irrational and defy family.

Reon climbed the bamboo steps and guided the woman carefully, keeping her steady on the rain-slick wood.

Once they reached the hut’s small terrace, they exchanged warm smiles—soft, breathless attempts to melt the cold rain clinging to their bodies.

"I get my fox today. And... and you feel it too, right?" she asked, bright-eyed, hopeful, glowing.

Reon nodded, a wide, stunned smile pulling at his lips. Words failed him. His chest felt too full, too tight—as if happiness was pressing hard enough to split him open. All he saw was her. His mate.

She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight.

"I’m so happy, Reon. Truly happy."

Reon curled his arms around her waist, holding her just as tightly.

He closed his eyes and brushed his nose along her bare shoulder, inhaling her warm vanilla with that musky sweetness he wanted carved into memory forever.

Their chests pressed together, her heartbeat hammering against his. He hoped she could feel his.

"Lyria..." he murmured, breathing her in, trailing up her neck.

"Lyria..." He kept whispering her name—worshipping it—like it was the final word he’d ever give the world. A vow without saying one.

Lyria stroked his hair. The gentle touch sent a sharp shiver through him.

"I want you to claim me first," she whispered.

He froze.

"Reon, claim and mark me as your mate first. I want you. I want you to be my first."

He pulled back, searching her gaze with disbelief.

"But Raymond already proposed to you." He stated.

"You three are my fated mates. And I want you first. And I can feel your desire for me too. So what’s the problem?"

His jaw tightened. He shook his head.

"No, Lyria. Raymond... he won’t let me..."

Reon stepped back.

No matter how many thousand times he imagined sharing one mate with his triplet brothers, Raymond would never accept it.

No matter how much he wanted to take Lyria now, to claim her senseless, he would never cross Raymond.

That was their vow.

Raymond decided everything.

Especially now that their engagement was already announced.

Lyria held his trembling fist, the one shaking from the beast clawing inside his ribs.

Her scent hit him with tiny sharp stings, like needles poking him to break every restraint.

"But you’re my saviour. You were the first who find me, filthy, torn, abandoned in the forest when my family threw me away. When they called me a cursed witch who brought misfortune because of my mother’s death. When I was dying alone with no will to live. You’re the one who gave me back my light."

She sobbed, and Reon’s heart twisted. He wiped her tears with his fingers.

"Do you know how happy I was when I first felt the mate bond? You were the first one I sensed. When they said a cursed spirit fox like me would never find a mate... do you know how precious this blessing is for—"

Reon yanked her into his arms before she could finish. He didn’t want to hear any more of that pain. His chest burned remembering the day he’d found her broken.

He held her tight, too tight, almost shaking.

His body went rigid when Lyria gave a soft, teasing nibble on his ear like an alarm, whipping the beast inside him awake.

"I want you, Reon... Claim me," she whispered, warm breath brushing his skin.

"Fuck," he breathed.

He dragged her close and kissed her—deep, hungry.

Heat. Pressure.

A filthy, grounded pull between them.

He pushed them further into the hut, kicking the door until it cracked off its frame. He didn’t care.

His hand slid down and lifted her thigh around his waist, and as if their bodies already knew the script, she wrapped both legs around him.

She kissed him harder, tongue demanding more, and he kept moving, searching for something—anything—to anchor her against.

The bamboo wall groaned when he slammed her back, and a soft moan tore from her throat, a sound that made his cock twitch painfully.

He moved again, impatient, lifting her onto the dusty oak table.

When he broke the kiss, she looked furious. Her hazel eyes were flickering with fire.

She hissed at the loss of his mouth, tugging him back.

Reon touched her arm, stroking gently to reassure her that he was not stopping, not leaving. Just grounding her.

"Are you sure you want to do it here? This place is—"

"I don’t care," she cut him off with conviction.

The indifference in her voice made Reon lower his body, pinning her down.

Their distance was only separated by the thin layers of clothing still on them, yet Reon could feel every warm shudder trembling through Lyria’s body.

He caressed her face gently, making Lyria’s eyes flutter half-open as she hissed a moan, like his touch was striking a burning fire through her body.