Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Roana,

—

Signing the contract hadn’t been a difficult task. All he asked for was a name to serve as a shield—a convenient scapegoat to protect his lover. That was the extent of his demand. Of course, it implied that I might eventually find myself tangled with dangerous people, but with Rye by my side, why should I feel anxious?

What caught me off guard was how easily I spilled my private thoughts to him. Marriage had never been part of my plan, but having a child—my own child—that was something I truly desired. My vision was straightforward: IVF, clinical and detached, no emotional strings tied to the father. Yet somehow, I found myself voicing it aloud. That wasn’t like me at all. But it was out there now.

“Anyway, what should I do? I’m bored,” I said, stretching out across the couch with exaggerated flair, my arms reaching wide. “My baby girl hasn’t even arrived yet. Maybe we should take a patrol around the pack.”

Rye’s voice echoed inside my mind, tinged with amusement. “Aren’t you a bit too comfortable to be moving anywhere?”

“You don’t get it, Rye. Being holed up in a warm room with no obligations—that’s a kind of freedom all on its own,” I grinned, tossing a grape into my mouth with playful ease.

“That’s just called unemployment. You’re just enjoying lying around and eating.”

“Oh, come on! Who doesn’t love food? And besides, I don’t have to stress about gaining weight—my body’s a mystery as it is,” I chuckled, flicking another grape into the air and catching it deftly.

“So you’re proud of being lazy?”

“Yes. And proud of my curves too.”

“You evil—! Oh! It’s Cassian!” Rye’s voice dropped to a purr the instant his scent drifted into my senses.

It had only been a few hours since Cassian left for business. I’d hoped he’d be gone long enough for me to enjoy the couch in peace. But here he was, back far sooner than I expected. Not that I minded. Honestly, the couch still beat his bed any day.

The door swung open wide, and there he stood—

Cassian, as handsome as ever, though his face was drawn tight with exhaustion.

“Good evening, Your Majesty!” I greeted him casually, swinging my legs with a relaxed air.

He stepped into the room, his movement halting as his eyes locked onto me. For a brief moment, he looked as if he’d walked into the wrong place. His brows furrowed, then softened, then knitted together again, as if his face couldn’t decide what to feel.

His lips parted, then closed, then parted once more. Finally, his voice emerged, colder than necessary. “What are you doing, Ms. Roana?” The edge in his tone betrayed his displeasure.

“Just enjoying my evening. Care to join me?”

“No.” His reply was immediate, but his gaze flicked once—couch, fruit bowl, my grin—before darting away, as if he didn’t want me to catch him noticing.

I rolled onto my stomach, resting my chin in my hands. “What’s wrong? You look like a pufferfish dragged out of the ocean. Did someone step on your feet, Your Majesty? Come here, I’ll soothe your worries!”

—

Cassian’s brows drew tight. He didn’t look convinced—more like caught somewhere between irritation and disbelief. Surely he didn’t think I’d get so comfortable in this room and act as if I owned it. Well, technically, I did—half of it, at least, as his Luna. Hehe.

“Nah, I’m fine.” He crossed the room to the closet, shrugging off his waistcoat. “Did you meet the servants I sent?”

“Oh, them? No. I was asleep when they came. Didn’t bother. I don’t need one anyway.” I peeled a tangerine, glancing at him. “By the way, Your Majesty, are you sure you want to entrust the household to me?”

“Absolutely,” he answered simply, meeting my eyes steadily. “As my Luna, you hold an equal place here. If you want to stay, this is your home. But if you prefer the village, that choice is yours.”

I hesitated. He was really keeping his word. For once, someone wasn’t trying to shove responsibility away from me. Slowly, I nodded.

“Fine. Then I expect the same treatment in return. After all, I’m not here by accident. I’m your wife—contractually and legally your equal partner.” I smirked.

Cassian studied me, one brow raised. “So you want me to treat you as an equal?”

“Yes,” I declared, moving toward the bed. “That means I get the right side, you get the left. This pillow marks the border. The bed is two-oh-seven centimeters wide, which gives each of us precisely one-oh-three point five. No cheating.”

He blinked, watching as I carefully positioned a pillow down the middle like a dividing wall.

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