Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

I stood before the mirror, staring at my reflection, grappling with the whirlwind of emotions that had just engulfed me. The hickey on my neck pulsed with a reminder of last night, and every beat of my heart felt like a drum echoing the chaos inside.

What had unfolded? How had we crossed that delicate line? Did we truly step beyond the boundaries we had set? Why had Cassian acted that way? And what about me?

A strange warmth spread through me at the realization that I didn’t truly mind it—not even a fraction. Why was I always so vulnerable when he held me?

Last night, when I had dissolved into tears in his embrace, it felt like a sanctuary, a place I wished to inhabit for eternity. Since that moment, every time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I could no longer see myself as lesser than anyone else.

Yet, every memory of being enveloped in Cassian’s arms tightened my throat. He had cradled me as if I were made of glass, his lips tracing the contours of my body with a reverence that felt sacred. It was as if we were intoxicated, lost in the allure of one another, more than just the pull of the mate bond.

What lay ahead for us? Crossing those lines was a breach of our unspoken rules. Who would bear the blame? We both had surrendered to the moment.

What if Cassian believed I had seduced him with my cooking?

Wait, could someone actually be seduced by a meal? All I had prepared was steak—my absolute favorite, but was it truly that enticing?

“Shut up!” Rye growled from within me. “Can’t you be serious for once?”

I couldn’t help but scoff. “Someone’s feeling quite cheerful today,” I retorted, half-amused by the absurdity of it all.

Rye purred softly, unbothered by the turmoil. But I—

I sighed deeply, rubbing my temples in an attempt to dispel the remnants of the night before. My fingers brushed over the hickey, a faint bruise that throbbed with each swallow. My body felt heavy, still warm in places that should have forgotten him by now. Every nerve ending sparked with vivid memories, burning like a ghost that refused to depart.

Wrapping the towel tighter around myself, I stepped out of the bathroom, expecting to find him asleep. I pictured him curled up, chest rising and falling rhythmically, hair tousled across his forehead. The image brought a wave of relief, easing the tension in my shoulders. At least something felt familiar.

Except it didn’t.

Cassian wasn’t asleep. He leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on me in a way that made my stomach twist. It wasn’t the possessive, claiming look I had witnessed earlier; it was blank, almost indifferent. And somehow, that made my heart race faster.

“Good morning,” I managed to say, my voice wavering despite my desperate attempt to sound composed.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he shifted his weight and walked past me toward the kitchen, as if I were merely an afterthought in my towel-clad state. A sharp, stinging pressure gripped my chest—a sensation akin to betrayal.

For reasons I couldn’t quite grasp, I wasn’t shocked.

I blinked at the empty space he had left behind, my heart racing, cheeks flushing. Did he regret what had happened? Was that why he was avoiding me? My mind spun, replaying every moment from the night before: the way he had held me like I was fragile porcelain, the whispers of my name, the warmth that had enveloped my skin, and now—this silence.

He was simply ignoring me?

I sank into a chair beside the bed, wrapping my arms around myself. The towel felt flimsy against the weight of my swirling emotions.

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