Moonbound To Hell: The Cursed Lycan's Mate

Chapter 12

Nyx hummed in response, but I was already walking ahead of him. I was dead hungry. My stomach growled loudly enough that I was sure half the corridor could hear it. But on second thought, I didn’t even know where the dining room was in this massive fortress.

I stopped abruptly in the middle of the hallway and looked back at Nyx, who was quietly following me with that calm, predatory stride of his. His silver eyes gleamed under the dim lights, tracking my every movement like a hunter who already knew his prey’s next step. “Where is the dining room?”

He said nothing. Just kept walking past me like I hadn’t spoken. I nearly tripped him in pure anger, my boot catching the back of his heel on purpose. He didn’t even stumble. Bastard. The man moved like liquid shadow, all controlled power and ancient grace.

I followed him anyway, fuming silently. Ashra chuckled in my head. *He enjoys making you chase him. It’s the wolf in him. Dominant. Teasing.*

*Shut up,* I told her, clenching my jaw. *I’m not in the mood for your matchmaking.*

We finally reached the dining room. The moment the doors opened, the smell of food hit me like a wave. Roasted meats, fresh bread, soups, fruits, and dishes I didn’t even recognize. The long table was loaded like they were feeding an army. I smiled at all the dishes laid out in front of me and sat down immediately, ignoring everything and everyone else. I started eating like I hadn’t seen food in weeks.

Only after a few minutes did I notice that everyone in the room—servants, a couple of guards, and Nyx himself—was staring at me. The silence was thick, broken only by the clink of my fork.

I paused with a piece of bread halfway to my mouth. “Why?”

A young maid near the sideboard shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting to Nyx before she mumbled under her breath, just loud enough for me to catch, “The queen… she’s not supposed to eat before the king. It’s tradition—”

Nyx chuckled slightly cutting her off with a single sharp glance. “Eat,” he said, his voice brooking no argument as he looked at me. “Slowly.”

The maid flushed and busied herself with nothing in particular. I raised an eyebrow at Nyx. Very strange man, I thought, but I went back to eating. Tradition be damned. I devoured plate after plate — tender steak, rich sauces, warm bread with butter, and sweet fruits. Nyx didn’t eat much himself, just watched me with those dark, intense eyes that seemed to strip away every layer I tried to keep up.

When I finally leaned back in my chair, full and satisfied, Nyx watched me with dark eyes.

“Are you full?” he asked.

I nodded, wiping my mouth with a napkin that felt softer than anything I’d owned before.

“Good. We have an event to attend this afternoon.”

I sat up straight. “No.”

I didn’t like those fake people and their fake smiles. Political gatherings were just pretty cages where everyone tried to stab you in the back while pretending to be civilized. The thought of plastering on a queenly mask and parading around made my skin crawl. Nyx didn’t even give me a choice. He simply looked at me with that cold, commanding expression that said the discussion was over, his silver eyes narrowing slightly as if daring me to challenge him further.

I crossed my arms. “This wasn’t in the contract.”

His face darkened, shadows playing across his sharp features. “From the moment you signed that contract binding you as the Lycan Queen, you were supposed to know that a lot of responsibility comes with it.” He glanced at my outfit—the simple black top and jeans I had thrown on after our marathon of passion. “Your outfit is already prepared in your room. Even the makeup artist is waiting for you.”

I nodded, too tired to argue with this man who seemed determined to make my life miserable. Ashra sighed heavily in my head. *So we have to deal with fake smiles and too strong perfume. At least you’ll look devastating.*

I smirked. *Why aren't you happy? Weren’t you singing his praises minutes ago?*

Ashra said nothing. Smart wolf.

“What time am I supposed to come out?” I asked Nyx, pushing my chair back.

He checked his wristwatch, the expensive piece catching the light. “One-thirty.”

I nodded and walked off, heading back to my room. The corridors felt endless, but I was starting to memorize the layout. When I pushed open the door to my chambers, the makeup artist was already there, along with Elena.

Elena greeted me with a quick bow. “My lady.”

I nodded. “Why didn’t you bring me food three days ago?”

She looked nervous, twisting her hands in her apron. “I came, my lady. Multiple times. But His Majesty roared at me to leave before I could even explain. The entire wing was sealed off by his orders. Even the Beta didn’t dare approach.”

I just nodded. So she was the one who had knocked that night. Poor girl. Nyx in full rut was terrifying even to me, and I had been the one underneath him. The memory sent a flush through me that I quickly shoved down.

The makeup artist, a quiet woman with steady hands and a kit full of high-end products, started working on my face while Elena helped me into the dress that had been laid out. It was stunning—a strapless deep crimson gown with intricate gold designs that hugged my figure perfectly, accentuating every curve from my breasts to my hips. The fabric was some luxurious blend that felt like silk but held structure, shimmering subtly under the light. A high slit ran up one thigh, making me look stunningly dangerous and beautiful at the same time, revealing just enough skin to hint at power and sensuality. The dress flowed like liquid fire when I moved, pooling elegantly around my feet.

I admired myself in the mirror for a long moment. The dress made me look powerful, Regal even. Like a queen who had walked through hell and come out stronger, scars hidden beneath gold thread and crimson armor. My hair was styled in loose waves that framed my face, and the makeup artist worked magic—dark smoky eyes that made my gaze smolder, bold red lips that matched the dress perfectly, and a touch of highlighter that gave my skin an ethereal glow. I sat down on the edge of the bed, pressing my phone, scrolling through messages while the artist finished.

A maid knocked softly. “My lady, the King is ready.”

With Elena’s help, I stood up in the heels they had prepared—tall, sleek black ones that added inches to my height and clicked authoritatively on the stone floors. I admired myself one last time. Damn, I was beautiful. I draped a golden shawl around my neck to cover some of the more obvious marks Nyx had left on me—faint bites and bruises that still tingled. It added an elegant touch hiding everything.

I walked out of the room with my head held high, and the dress swishing around my legs with every step.

Nyx was waiting in the grand hallway, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit that made him look every inch the dangerous king he was. He was lost in looking at me. His silver eyes widened slightly, raking over the strapless crimson gown, the gold details, the slit that revealed my thigh with every step, and the golden shawl. For once, the cold king seemed genuinely stunned.

A strange man stood beside him. The man bowed deeply. “My lady, I am Beta Darius, second in command to His Majesty. It is an honor.”

I nodded. “Nice to meet you.” Darius had a sturdy build, sharp features, and eyes that assessed me quickly but respectfully.

Nyx recovered, offering me his arm. His grip was firm and possessive as we walked toward the elevator that would take us to the rooftop. “You look… dangerous,” he said with a rough voice, his thumb brushing the inside of my wrist.

I smirked. “Good.”

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime. I glanced around, expecting perhaps a staircase or a car waiting below. But when the doors opened again onto the rooftop helipad-turned-landing zone, my eyes widened. A sleek private jet gleamed under the afternoon sun, its body painted in black and silver with the royal Lycan crest on the tail.

I looked at Nyx, stunned. That man was ridiculously rich. I had assumed we were heading to some local event by car—maybe a armored convoy through the city. But a private jet? For an afternoon event? The sheer wealth hit me again, this wasn’t just a king; he commanded resources that could rival nations. “A jet?” I muttered, half to myself. “I thought we were driving.”

Nyx’s lips twitched in what might have been a smirk. “Efficiency, little queen. The gathering is in the capital spires. Time is short.”

We took the private jet that was already packed and waiting on the rooftop of the fortress. The wind whipped around us as we boarded, carrying scents of fuel and high altitude. I settled into the luxurious seat, the slit in my gown riding up my thigh, exposing smooth skin. The interior was all cream leather, polished wood, and subtle lighting—more like a flying lounge than transportation. Nyx sat across from me, his eyes never leaving me.

As the jet taxied and lifted off, I leaned back, crossing my legs. Ashra hummed approvingly in my mind. *He provides. Strong mate.*