Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle
Chapter 132: Rhys is now my consort!

Chapter 132: Rhys is now my consort!

Meanwhile, back at Moon Crest Park...

Anaya was seated quietly, her hands trembling slightly as Kisha stood beside her protectively. The two were waiting in the royal court, as they’ve been granted an audience with the Queen.

"What do you want to see me for, Kisha?" the Queen asked at last, her voice weary as she let out a heavy sigh. "Is there a problem?"

"No, Your Highness," Kisha replied, lowering herself into a deep bow. "It’s just... you haven’t given my princess a response since the day I informed you that Master Rhys is the one responsible for her condition. My princess wants him to visit her chamber. I lied to her and told her he would come, but even after I confessed the truth to you, he still hasn’t shown up."

Before Kisha could continue, a maid stepped forward and delivered a sharp slap across her face, the force of it knocking her to the ground.

"You shouldn’t have done that," the Queen remarked coldly, her tone detached and directed at the maid. Her expression betrayed no emotion. "Since there’s nothing more to discuss, take Anaya back to her room. In fact, you both have spent enough time in my pack. I believe it’s time for you to return to your own."

"Your Majesty... you haven’t given me a response yet," Kisha pleaded from the ground, her voice cracking with emotion as tears streamed down her cheeks. "The princess... she can’t stop crying. She’s even refusing to eat because Master Rhys didn’t come as I promised."

"Do you have a death wish?!" one of the palace maids shouted, eyes blazing with fury. "Will you stop this pathetic behavior before it gets you killed?!"

At that moment, the heavy doors to the royal court creaked open and Rhys strode in. The moment Anaya caught a whiff of his scent, her body reacted instinctively...her hand lifted, trembling, as she reached out toward him.

But Rhys walked right past her without a glance.

"Greetings, Your Highness," Rhys said, bowing respectfully before the Queen. "You summoned me?"

"Yes, come here, my darling," the Queen replied warmly, stretching out her hand to him.

Rhys walked over to her without hesitation and settled down beside her. Without a care for the court full of onlookers....servants, Kisha, and even Anaya....the Queen pulled him into a kiss. Their lips locked as if they were alone, lost in their own world.

"Your Highness..." Rhys murmured in a low voice as she began unfastening his trousers, "We’re not doing this here, are we?"

"We are," the Queen said simply, her voice sultry and commanding as she leaned forward, kissing him again while her hand stroked his already erect length. "I want you to take me right here."

The court filled with the sounds of gasps, shuffling feet, and horrified silence....then, soon after, the sound of moans and groans.

Rhys’s eyes shifted briefly...just briefly....toward Anaya. She was crying, silently, her delicate hand covering her trembling mouth as she knew Rhys was inside the court but she couldn’t even touch him. He couldn’t speak to her. He wouldn’t dare say a word in defiance of the Queen. But even if his lips were silent, his eyes revealed a storm.

The Queen was relentless. She sank onto him, his arousal disappearing into the slick heat of her exposed core. Her moans grew louder as she rode him, her heavy breasts now free from her gown bouncing above Rhys’s face. Without protest, he drew one into his mouth, sucking at her stiffened nipples as the sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the royal hall.

"Oh....yes! Just like that!" the Queen moaned, her cries of pleasure shameless and raw.

Kisha stood frozen. Her world felt like it was crumbling around her. Her vision blurred, her chest heaving as her heart throbbed painfully in her ribcage.

Meanwhile even though Anaya couldn’t see, her heart couldn’t take it anymore.

With a soft gasp, she clutched her chest and leaned forward as a wave of pain struck her. Blood surged up her throat, and with a sharp cough, she vomited a mouthful onto the court floor.

"Princess!" Kisha cried out, panic gripping her voice as she dropped to her knees, lowering herself to Anaya’s height.

Meanwhile, Rhys...despite the Queen still riding him had his gaze fixed solely on Anaya. A sense of dread settled over him as he watched her convulse and spit blood. In that moment, ignoring all consequences, he forcefully lifted the Queen off his lap. She shrieked in surprise, but he paid her no mind. With his now-flaccid but still exposed length slick with her essence and swaying between his legs, he ran to Anaya.

"What’s wrong?" Rhys asked urgently, dropping to his knees beside her, eyes wide with fear.

Without hesitation, Anaya threw herself into his arms, her entire body shaking as she continued to sob uncontrollably. Rhys instinctively wrapped his arms around her, one hand pressing gently against her back in a comforting gesture, the other supporting her trembling frame. He couldn’t ignore the rising ache in his chest.

A sudden voice cut through the air.

"Do you want to die?!" the Queen’s voice thundered through the royal court.

Everyone froze.

She stormed toward them, eyes ablaze with fury. Without ceremony, she yanked Rhys back by his arm. Only then did he realize his lower half was still exposed. Quickly and clumsily, he tucked himself back into his trousers.

"Rhys is my consort now!" the Queen declared, her voice sharp and echoing with authority. "I do not care what happens to Anaya. She is of no importance to me. You and that pitiful girl should leave my pack first thing tomorrow morning or suffer my wrath."

Shock rippled through the hall. Kisha trembled. Even Rhys, confused and stunned, was unable to speak.

Then the Queen turned to him with a sugary smile that did nothing to hide her venom.

"Now, let’s finish what we started," she said sweetly, gripping his hand and leading him back toward the throne, her intentions clear as the servants watched in horror.

"Your Highness..." Kisha choked out between sobs, turning back to her mistress who was now coughing up more blood, staining her gown a vivid red. "Let’s get you out of here first," she said urgently, wiping her tears away as she reached for the wheelchair Anaya had been seated in.

But they hadn’t even exited the royal court fully when a strong hand gripped the handle of the wheelchair, halting their escape.

Kisha turned around quickly, fear clouding her vision only to find Rhys standing behind them.

"What are you doing here?" Kisha asked, her voice trembling, tears still falling freely.

"The questions can wait," Rhys said with authority. "Go. Get a healer. Now."

He didn’t wait for her response. Gently but swiftly, he scooped Anaya into his arms. Her breathing was shallow, her body limp. She had lost consciousness.

Rhys ran through the halls with her, carrying her straight to her sleeping chamber. He laid her carefully on the bed, his heart pounding. Moments later, the healer that Kisha had fetched rushed into the room and immediately began tending to Anaya.

"I had to knock the Queen out," Rhys confessed under his breath, breathing heavily as he stood beside the bed. "It was the only way I could escape. Thank the stars she had already sent her maids and guards away for ’privacy.’" He ran a hand through his hair. "I didn’t even know I was strong enough to knock out a Queen."

"That’s because you’ve always been strong," Kisha murmured softly to herself, eyes still wet. "You’re a warrior, after all..."

The healer stood after checking Anaya’s pulse and applying delicate acupuncture needles to several pressure points. His expression was grim.

"She’s stable for now," the healer reported solemnly. "But whatever triggered this episode must be avoided in the future. If she continues to experience such trauma, it could end her life. Honestly, from what I’m seeing, she doesn’t have much time left. However, if extreme caution is observed...keeping her away from emotional or physical triggers...she may live out her remaining years in relative peace."

Rhys swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. "Thank you, sir. Please... don’t tell anyone about this. No one must know you treated the princess not unless you’re ready to die."

The healer paled and nodded quickly. "Yes, Master Rhys. I understand." He bowed deeply and exited the chamber without another word.

Silence filled the room for a long moment.

Then Rhys turned to Kisha, his brow furrowed, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "What illness is she suffering from exactly?" he asked, his voice low but serious. "What kind of disease can be this deadly that is fighting this beautiful princess?"

"You once called her blind, mute, and deaf," Kisha replied, swallowing hard. Her gaze met his steadily despite her tears.

"That was... I didn’t mean that," Rhys said, guilt flickering in his eyes. "I was afraid. I said those things in anger... I’m sorry. She’s beautiful. She doesn’t deserve to suffer like this."

"Her illness," Kisha said slowly, each word weighed with sorrow and truth, "is you, Master Rhys."

Rhys’s breath caught in his throat. "What...?" he whispered, eyes widening.

"You are the reason," Kisha continued, her voice cracking. "You are the one responsible. And if something isn’t done soon, you might also be the one who kills her."

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