Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Roana stood motionless in the middle of the unfamiliar room, her eyes fixed on the duffle bag, passport, and phone neatly arranged on the bed—items that Commander Keane had left for her earlier. The weight of indecision pressed heavily on her chest. This was not her space; it was a place devoid of warmth, surrounded by strangers whose presence only reminded her of her isolation.

A sudden wave of clarity crashed over her. How had she agreed to this? When did she start making choices without fully considering the consequences? The question gnawed at her, leaving her mind tangled in confusion and doubt.

Her heart felt hollow, a vast emptiness growing inside her. Cassian was the King of this region, a man whose people could never truly see her as an equal. After all, she was merely a former Luna from a small pack, insignificant in his world. Yet here she was, caught in a game far beyond her depth.

Was she really trying to dive headfirst into this uncertain ocean and pretend to be unfazed? The thought seemed absurd even to her own ears.

Rye’s silence was almost deafening. Roana could sense her mate’s quickening pulse echoing in her mind—fear gripping her tightly. No matter how strong Rye was, before her mate, a Lycan, she felt diminished, vulnerable. And being snapped at by Cassian—her own mate—was a humiliation that cut deep.

Roana knew this was her fault. She had grown too comfortable, forgotten her place in this tangled hierarchy.

With a steadying breath, she grabbed the duffle bag and slipped it into the closet, where she had already stashed her new clothes. When she left, she would take only what was hers.

Closing the closet door behind her, Roana moved to the window, gazing out over the vast territory. The land stretched wide, bordered by dense woods, the quiet so profound it seemed to seep into her veins. Yet, despite the beauty and calm, it wasn’t home. And after leaving Alex, all she yearned for was a place to call her own, a sanctuary to finally settle into.

Why had she agreed to sign the contract? Her thoughts spiraled, tightening around her like a trap.

The creak of the door startled her. Cassian’s footsteps were familiar, yet his presence shifted the atmosphere instantly. No matter the moment, he carried an aura that altered the air itself—cold, unyielding, pressing against her skin like an invisible weight.

Regret blossomed swiftly. It had taken only a day to wish she had never met him, never agreed to this binding contract. She had forgotten how fragile her mental state was—her heart still raw from the wounds inflicted by Alexander and the people she loved. And now, she found herself once again ensnared in a world where she didn’t belong.

“Ms. Roana, we need to talk,” Cassian’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and commanding. The authority in his tone made Rye whimper in her mind, a sound of fear and rejection.

Roana clenched her jaw, her fingers curling so tightly they trembled. She vowed silently to protect Rye from harm, no matter the source—even if it came from their own mate.

Turning to face Cassian, she saw him already settled on the couch, reclining with an air of ownership that extended beyond the furniture to the very room itself. His eyes were sharp, appraising, making the space between them feel suffocating.

She said nothing, meeting his gaze with a blank expression while feeling her pulse pound against her throat.

After a moment, he shifted and exhaled deeply, jaw tightening. “Let’s—”

“Let’s set some boundaries,” Roana interrupted, her voice steady despite the dryness in her throat.

He raised an eyebrow, cold eyes narrowing. “What boundaries?”

Leaning forward, she intertwined her hands to mask the whiteness of her knuckles. “I don’t want to be involved in your daily life. There are too many ways my presence could complicate things for you. Let’s keep our contract exactly as it was from the start.”

Cassian’s fingers drummed once against the armrest, then stilled. His gaze bore into her, as if weighing every word. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

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