Possessed Wolfless: From Rejected to Vengeful Lycans' Queen-Chapter 8: DumbDumb

"Thank you." Lethia let out a relieved breath as she picked up her fallen phone before turning her gaze back to the window. Finally, she had managed to say thank you properly—without awkwardness.

Renar steered the car around and pulled up beneath a tree near a residential area.

"I don't think I can go any further. The road's packed with people. Holae Street is still two or three blocks ahead."

"Hm. I know, I'll just walk from here." Lethia glanced outside while blindly reaching for the door handle—only to find nothing. Her fingers brushed against the smooth surface, confusion flickering in her eyes.

She turned to Renar, who merely flashed a knowing smile before tapping the holographic screen. A soft beep signalled the doors unlocking.

"Let's go." Renar smirked and winked at her annoyed expression.

"Wait, you don't have to get out!" Lethia half-shouted, but he had already stepped out of the car. She hurried after him, only to pause as she finally took a proper look at the vehicle.

Now that she was outside, she noticed how absurdly long it was—streamlined, yet with a broad rear that stretched far higher than she had expected.

She frowned. 'For a two-seater, this thing is ridiculously oversized. So weird. Like the car, like the owner.'

"Why did you get out? You don't need to walk me there. Ah, how much for the ride? And... the treatment, too. I'll transfer it right away." She unlocked her phone and looked at Renar, waiting for his response.

Renar studied her for a moment, then let out a small smile.

"Is that how you thank someone for helping you?"

"No. I did say thank you earlier. Twice! Once after I got into your car. This is how I settle a debt. I don't like to be indebted to someone—especially strangers."

Before she could react, Renar closed the distance between them in a single stride. Instinctively, she stepped back—only to nearly bump into a passerby. He caught her wrist, pulling her forward just in time.

The motion sent the back of her hand landing against his abdomen—hard muscle beneath the fabric. Their faces hovered inches apart.

"You abuse your confidence too much. Careful—it might wear thin." Renar, still wearing that maddeningly addictive smile, released his grip.

"But—"

"You don't need to pay me. Use that to buy yourself and your baby something good to eat. Looks like you'll be starving yourself soon." He spoke over her, already turning away, leaving Lethia standing there with her mouth slightly parted and blinking after him.

Then, he halted and glanced back. "And I opened the door on impulse because you reminded me of a beauty I adored. So don't feel indebted—it was my choice. I have business here anyway, so let's just go our separate ways. Take care."

Lethia stood frozen, her mind stubbornly lingering on how unreasonably firm his stomach muscle had been beneath that expensive shirt.

She couldn't help but imagine it—her backhand bumping into his spasming stomach muscles, adding fuel to her remnant fire.

She gave herself a sharp shake and hurried after him.

No matter what he said, she couldn't just accept help without settling the debt.

Money wasn't always her way of measuring things, but she was mature enough to know that, in this world, people needed—and liked—money more than anything. Especially those who lived in the extravagant luxury of the Capital.

She jogged to keep up with his pace, but at 5'8", she struggled to match his 6'4" stride.

As she stepped onto the main stretch of Holae Street, neon lights shimmered around her, making her squint.

Laughter rippled through the air, mingling with the sharp calls of vendors hawking their wares, their voices swallowed by the tide of bodies surging through the crowded street.

Lethia was a loner, and the sensation of being cramped, her body swaying back and forth as it did now, was the last thing she wanted to experience.

Thankfully, the broad back of Renar, clad in his green sage shirt, was still visible in the crowd, and she followed him, even as the tide of people carried her along.

She sighed and placed her hands on her hips as she stopped behind Renar, who was in line at a food stall named Wet Chick.

She watched as Renar ordered several portions of plain boiled chicken and pumpkin chicken soup. When the cashier handed him the payment barcode, Lethia quickly pulled out her phone and scanned it, surprising Renar.

A faint smile curled on her lips as the cashier printed the receipt, confirming she had paid for the bill.

"What are you doing?" Renar asked.

New novel 𝓬hapters are published on ƒreewebɳovel.com.

"Paying my debt. Look, I know it's not much—" Lethia stopped mid-sentence when she took the receipt and stared, wide-eyed, at the price.

'What kind of chicken soup costs almost a year's worth of a janitor's wages?' she screamed inside.

Renar, noticing her expression, smiled. "Regret it now?"

Lethia flinched. "No. I think it's worth the ride and treatment."

Renar chuckled. "Fine, if you insist. You should try their plain chicken soup. It's the best in the country. They use a rare, organic breed of chicken. It's great for controlling morning sickness—plain, but still rich with an earthy, savoury flavour."

The steam rising from the large pot behind the counter filled the air with the mouth-watering scent of chicken broth, causing Lethia to swallow hard.

But she needed to find Lana first. She might come back later to justify the worth of this ridiculously expensive chicken with her.

"I don't have time. I need to take care of my refuge. I hope you enjoy your warm, fortune-wet chicken then," she said.

"It's not for me," Renar replied with a bright smile, his focus on the seller wrapping his order, eager to take it. "It's for my Freya. She loves it."

Lethia was taken aback by how this stoic man suddenly became so romantic, his eyes sparkling at the mention of his woman.

'Nice, Lethia, you just wasted months' worth of meal budget to buy a wet chick for another chick who will get wetted later by a hot billionaire. Good job!' her assumption reeled.

She chuckled, "Such a lucky girlfriend. Enjoy the rest of your night, then."

"It's not a girlfriend—" Renar turned, only to realise Lethia had already rushed into the crowd of Holae Street. He could only smile faintly at the woman's quirky antics. He glanced at his watch and chuckled.

'If she stayed ten more minutes, I could smell what kind of scent a bold wolfless like her has.'

In the crowd, Lethia pushed through the throng, her eyes darting from stall to stall.

A scowl tugged at her lips—'Where the hell is it?'

Her eyes swept over the rows of vendors until she finally caught sight of the fuchsia neon DumbDumb sign glowing about thirty feet away.

She pushed forward, weaving through the crowd, her hands pressed over her stomach, shielding it from any stray elbows.

Just as she spotted a gap and reached out to slip through, a solid figure crashed into her, sending her stumbling back into the crowd.

She barely had time to protest before her breath hitched.

A white-hot, blistering shock ripped through her gut, like someone had just punched through flesh and twisted their fist inside. A silent cry caught in her throat.

In that brain-fog moment, she saw the smirk of the man who had just bumped into her, wearing a black hoodie. It was strange, like he knew her, but then he vanished into the crowd.

Heat coiled low in her stomach, tightening, twisting—then burning until it felt like she was being ironed from the inside out.

Someone screamed. The crowd around her shifted, drawing back as if giving her space to breathe, but she was suffocated instead.

The searing pain dragged her gaze downward—to the dagger buried deep in her lower stomach.

Thick, dark blood dripped onto the street, and her vision blurred with each drop that fell.