I Left The Wolf King Who Loved Me For The Dragon King Chapter 03

I Left The Wolf King Who Loved Me For The Dragon King Chapter 03

It was pouring rain that day. Pinkish blood, tainted with wolfbane, spread outward from beneath Ulvarr’s broken body.

Panic seized me, and my first instinct was to run, to flee back to the safety of the keep. But before I could take a single step, a iron grip clamped around my ankle.

Ulvarr forced his eyes open, gazing up at me through the torrential downpour. He squeezed out a single, raspy word that made my throat tighten “Mate…?”

My heart hammered against my ribs. What did that mean? Was this man truly mine? As a wolf-less hybrid, the fated mate bond was supposed to be nothing but a myth to me—a phantom connection I was entirely incapable of feeling.

I brushed his feverish forehead, assessing the sheer extent of his trauma, and finally made my choice. I would use my hidden gift to heal him.

The Selwyn family were direct descendants of the Lunar Deity. Every daughter born to the bloodline inherited a shard of her celestial power, capable of mending the most catastrophic wounds or shattering the oldest curses.

I healed Ulvarr. Right there in the mud, I watched the shattered, splintered bones of his legs knit back together until he was completely whole.

When he finally regained his clarity, he caught my hand in his, looking up at me with an intensity that burned. “My wolf does not mistake the scent,” he murmured, his voice thick with devotion. “You are my fated mate. Wait for me, Aylin. I swear I will marry you.”

Word of our pairing spread through the keep like wildfire. Furious and slighted, Bryony immediately declared she would strip Ulvarr away from me. She summoned him to the wolf-keep that very evening to claim her prize.

Inside the grand hall, firewood popped and crackled in the massive hearth.

Bryony swaggered toward Ulvarr, draped in a cloak of supple bear fur, looking every bit the favored lunar princess. She extended a manicured hand, tracing the line of his jaw with a slow, deliberate stroke.

“I’ll give you one last chance, stray,” she purred, her voice dripping with casual malice. “Do you choose that worthless, wolf-less charity case? Or do you choose me?”

I stood rooted to the spot near the archway, completely helpless.

Every memory of my life in this house reminded me of the same immutable truth: everyone chose Bryony.

The weight of a thousand small betrayals had stripped me of the will to fight back. Like a lamb awaiting the slaughter, I braced myself for his rejection.

But amidst the suffocating silence, Ulvarr didn’t flinch. He reached out and firmly took my hand.

“The only woman I love is Aylin.”

“Even if the heavens decree I should rise to lead this pack one day, there is only one Luna for me—Aylin.”

He locked eyes with Bryony, his voice ringing with absolute finality. “No one tears her from my side. Not unless they walk over my corpse to do it.”

At that moment, tears spilled over my lashes.

For the first time, I had won.

But the conversation I later intercepted beneath the western ramparts shattered that beautiful illusion into jagged pieces.

“But when the veil is drawn, have your men bind Aylin and smuggle her into the tribute carriage bound for the dragon’s peak. Bryony will take her rightful place at the altar beside me. And remember, my true identity remains absolute secrecy until the crown is secure.”

“As you command, Your Majesty,” the shadow warrior replied. “But what of Aylin? Do we simply abandon her to the ashes of the dragon’s keep?”

Ulvarr paused, a beat of cold silence passing before he answered.

“She has been docile and compliant enough. I suppose I did promise to treat her kindly.”

A dismissive huff left his throat. “Once the Dragon King succumbs to his curse, find an opportune moment to ambush the escort.

Extract her from the peak and lock her away in my private caverns. I will afford her one day a month of my companionship to keep her satisfied.”

The truth was a physical blow. The man I had pulled from the brink of death was no vanguard scout. He was Greyfang—the most ruthless, enigmatic feral Alpha in the eastern wilds.

He had masked his scent and hidden his crown for one reason: to act as a decoy, drawing his political enemies and rogues away from Bryony.

I was never his mate. I was Bryony’s shield. A lamb raised specifically to take her slaughter.

But I would never wear his binding mark.

There was a secret I had never shared with Ulvarr.

Not every female born to the Selwyn line inherited the Lunar Deity’s gift. The true celestial power only manifested when a Selwyn daughter was sired by a high-ranking alpha bloodline.

I had inherited the purest, unblemished strain of the lunar magic.

Bryony possessed nothing but a fractured, superficial blessing.

The moment I severed myself from Ulvarr and left this forest, the celestial magic I had used to mend his body would wither.

His shattered legs would never walk again.