Marked by the Lycan King

38

Myra had been officially discharged and granted full clearance to move around the estate. She didn’t dare attempt to escape this time.

She was still reeling from the news circulating about Lyka. Videos and pictures flooded every pack channel and social feed. Myra felt zero sympathy for Aiden. If anything, a dark, quiet satisfaction curled in her chest every time she replayed the clips. Still, the entire situation felt almost comically absurd. Whatever. It was the least of her concerns now.

What truly stunned her was how the news about her had completely vanished. Every article, every rumor, every leaked photo, gone. Erased as if it had never existed. Myra knew only one person possessed that kind of power and reach..

Her heart warmed at the thought. This man had saved her, sheltered her, protected her without asking for anything in return. Yet the kindness terrified her, It felt too good to be true. In her experience, powerful men always had an agenda. What could his possibly be?

“Earth to Myra!” Bria snapped her fingers right in front of Myra ’s face, jolting her back to reality. “I’m glad I finally got your attention. Now help me pick out your dress before I lose my mind.”

They were currently in Bria’s spacious, fashion-chaos-filled bedroom. Dozens of gowns in every color and style hung on racks, spilled across the bed, and draped over chairs. The sheer variety made Myra’s head spin.

“What is the use of all these gowns, you already have so many?” Myra asked, running her fingers over a shimmering silver fabric.

“So many? I don’t have enough,” Bria groaned dramatically. “All of these are outdated. I can’t afford to look cheap or shabby in front of those spoiled ladies. They’ll tear me apart, whispering about how unworthy I am, how I don’t belong.” She sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly looking uncharacteristically desolate. Her usual bright energy dimmed as she stared at the pile of luxurious dresses. “I need to wear something that will dazzle everyone. Something unforgettable.”

Myra moved closer and wrapped her arms around her friend’s shoulders, pulling her into a gentle hug. “Don’t beat yourself up. It’s just a party.”

“Oh, it’s not just a party,” Bria interjected, springing back to her feet with renewed theatrical flair. She struck an exaggerated pose, hand on her hip. “It is the Lunar Ball, the most exclusive event in our world. It only happens once every few years, usually because the Lycan King finds his mate so quickly. But this is His Majesty’s second ball. He’s still mateless… and very much available.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “Those rich, entitled ladies will be fawning all over him like vultures. I heard he skipped the last one entirely. I wish I could’ve been there, but I was still underage.”

Bria twirled around the room like a princess in a fairy tale, her laughter filling the space, before rushing back to grab Myra ’s hands. “There are going to be so many rich guys there, Myra. Handsome ones. Cute ones. Powerful ones. You should come with me. Who knows? You might even find your mate.”

“Uh-huh,” Myra replied, her face turning a soft shade of red. She coughed lightly, trying to hide her discomfort. She didn’t believe she would ever find a mate again. Second-chance mates were rare, almost mythical. After everything she’d been through, the idea felt like a cruel joke.

“What about your crush on Mr. Carl?” Myra asked, shifting the focus.

Bria’s bubbly expression faltered. She slumped onto the bed like a deflated balloon, staring at the ceiling. “Got over it pretty quickly,” she muttered. “Hearing his name again just reminds me… he’s been ghosting me hard. This whole mess with you limited our interactions, and whatever spark we had just… poof.” She made a dramatic extinguishing gesture with her hand. “The fire that was barely struggling in the wind has been put out. No hope left for us.”

Even though Bria spoke casually, Myra could see the reluctance and quiet hurt lingering in her eyes. First loves were always the hardest to let go of.

Myra gave her a sympathetic smile and squeezed her hand. “You’ll be fine. Someone better will come along.” Bria shrugged it off, forcing her usual bright grin back into place. “My birthday is in a few days anyway. I’ll find my mate.” Myra chuckled softly at Bria’s puffed-up, determined face as she held up yet another extravagant gown, striking dramatic poses in front of the full-length mirror. But deep inside, her heart twisted painfully at the casual mention of the Lunar Ball and the possibility of Matteo finally choosing a bride.

That’s right, she reminded herself. You never belonged here. You’re just a guest. A temporary guest in his life.

The image flashed through her mind, Matteo standing tall and regal beside a beautiful, worthy mate. Them building a life together. Pups running through the halls of the villa. A real family. A future.

She had to start making preparations to leave. The thought settled heavily in her chest. She needed to grow stronger, fast. No more relying on anyone’s protection. “Bria,” Myra asked, keeping her voice light, “who’s in charge of training around here?”

Bria, too caught up in her dress dilemma to notice the subtle shift in Myra’s expression, paused for a second before answering. “It should be Dante, the Gamma. He’s the one I usually see drilling the soldiers. I’m not sure how many trainers there are exactly, they rotate sometimes.” She shrugged, fanning herself with a silk scarf. “They’re training out in the fields right now. But honestly? There’s a brutal heatwave going on. I can’t even step outside the villa without feeling like I’m walking into a burning furnace.”

Myra tidied the hem of her dress with deliberate movements, her decision crystallizing in her mind. She stood up, resolve hardening her features.

“Hey, where are you going?” Bria protested, still clutching the emerald gown. “We’re not done choosing our dresses yet!”

“I’m going for a walk,” Myra replied, already heading toward the door.

“No, don’t go out! The heat is unbearable. It’ll tan your skin, and you need to look flawless for the party—”

But Myra didn’t stop. No matter how much Bria called after her, pleading and whining, she didn’t budge. With a dramatic huff, Bria finally gave up. “Fine! If you want to melt out there, go ahead. Just don’t come back looking like a roasted tomato.”

Myra had already grown somewhat accustomed to the estate’s layout in the weeks she’d been staying there. She moved with purpose, stepping out into the blistering afternoon sun. The heat hit her like a physical wall. Sweat beaded on her skin almost instantly, but she pushed forward, following the distant sounds of disciplined shouts and heavy breathing until she reached the vast training fields.

Over a hundred soldiers were locked in a grueling straight-arm plank position on the scorching ground, their bodies trembling under the strain. Dante moved among them like a predator surveying his pack, tall, broad-shouldered, and radiating raw authority. His presence was commanding, almost overwhelming, and every soldier’s face was etched with tension and focus.

Her arrival created an immediate ripple. Several soldiers glanced her way, their concentration shattering. A few lost balance and collapsed onto the dirt with muffled groans. Dante’s sharp gaze snapped toward the disturbance. He strode over in long, powerful steps, his expression dark with irritation.

“What do you want this time?” he demanded, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “You’re causing a distraction among my soldiers.”

Myra stood her ground, meeting his intense stare without flinching. The heat made the air shimmer around them, but the sight of the disciplined training ignited something fierce in her blood.

“I want you to train me,” she said clearly. “I want to join them.”