Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle
Chapter 137: An assassin?!

Chapter 137: An assassin?!

Meanwhile, back at the Moon Crest Pack...

Anaya and Kisha had already packed their bags, ready for departure. The carriage was stationed just outside the Imperial Palace gates, and with little left to delay them, Anaya stepped inside, followed closely by Kisha. Just like that, the journey back to Anaya’s pack began.

"Are you okay, Your Highness?" Kisha asked gently, using her fingers to trace the words across Anaya’s back. "You haven’t said anything to be since morning. You look so sad. Please cheer up."

Anaya swallowed hard, her face etched with quiet sorrow. Sadness clung to her like a shadow she couldn’t shake. She had truly hoped that Rhys would somehow remember her. But perhaps that was asking too much. At least he was safe... at least he seemed well. That was something, wasn’t it?

’He seems happy with my aunty anyways. As long as he remains happy then I’m fine. Even if death eventually comes, I’ll accept it willingly.’ Anaya thought to herself as she heaved a heavy sigh.

"I’m good, Kisha," Anaya finally responded, her own fingers gliding across Kisha’s back in reply. "I’m sure Father and Mother must be waiting for us by now."

Kisha nodded silently. Without saying a word, she allowed Anaya’s head to rest gently on her shoulder. A moment passed, then another....until tears began slipping quietly down Anaya’s cheeks. Her heart ached in a way that words could never describe, and letting those tears fall seemed the only possible relief.

She had cried the night before as well, so much so that her eyes were still swollen. And yet, despite the previous night’s sorrow, her heart remained heavy....aching, raw, and unresolved.

"It’s okay your highness. You don’t have to cry again." Kisha voiced out with tears rolling down her own cheeks too. She didn’t even bother tracing the words on Anaya’s back hence she felt like talking to herself instead.

"Don’t tell Father and Mother that we saw Rhys," Anaya communicated softly, again tracing her words on Kisha’s back. "I’m afraid Father might try to bring Rhys back by force. That could start a war between him and Aunt again."

"I won’t say a word," Kisha replied with conviction, her fingers pressing a little harder as she wrote back. "But please, do not call that devil your aunt. She never loved you. Not even once. I still can’t believe she was willing to let you go...your life just for the sake of a man."

Anaya said nothing in return. She only traced quietly onto Kisha’s back: "Just forget it."

Kisha nodded again, her expression tightening with restrained frustration and sorrow. The silence between them was no longer empty. It was full of everything unspoken, everything too painful to voice aloud.

Eventually, the carriage rolled beyond the capital city’s outer park, past the pack gate, and into a thick forest that bordered a narrow stream. There, the group decided to stop and rest. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale silver glow through the branches. Stars twinkled faintly above, and the night air carried the soft howling of wind and the occasional chirping of birds.

The servants moved about with quiet efficiency, lighting fires and preparing blankets. Anaya and Kisha sat a little apart from the others, surrounded by a comforting hush....until suddenly, a loud thud disrupted the peace.

"What’s that?!"

A figure tumbled from beneath the carriage, landing roughly on the ground. The noise startled everyone....Anaya, Kisha, and the nearby servants all froze in alarm.

"An assassin?!" Kisha exclaimed, instinctively reaching for a stick from the fire to defend them. But then she hesitated, narrowing her eyes.

Why would an assassin hide beneath the carriage all this while? And this person...whoever it was....was covered in mud from head to toe, clearly trying to blend in with the underside of the carriage. He had even masked his scent.

"Who are you?" Kisha demanded, brandishing the flaming stick threateningly.

The figure groaned and slowly began to rise from the ground, joints cracking audibly.

"It’s me," the voice came....tired but familiar. "Rhys. Put the stick down please."

As he straightened, he winced and rubbed his neck. "Damn. I think I cracked my spine."

"Master Rhys?!" Kisha shouted, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and utter disbelief. "What in the heavens are you doing here? Wait....did you regain your memories?!"

Without wasting another second, she quickly traced the words onto Anaya’s back. "Master Rhys is here!"

A bright, almost fragile smile bloomed on Anaya’s face. Her hands stretched out before her, searching instinctively for him. As if drawn by an invisible thread, Rhys stepped forward and knelt in front of her. Her hands found his hair, gently entangling in the dark soft curls.

"I don’t have any memories. Not about myself, not about the past," Rhys said quietly, his voice raw with frustration and confusion. "But you... both of you... you seem to know me very well. I need to know who I am."

He swallowed hard before continuing. "At the palace, I deliberately distanced myself. Too many eyes were watching me. I couldn’t afford to act out of line....not without drawing suspicion. But I managed to sneak out, thanks to you."

He paused, his eyes searching Anaya’s face as though hoping her silence could answer all the questions haunting him.

"So... is my name really Rhys? You called me that back at the palace," he asked, voice trembling with vulnerability and unspoken hope.

"Yes, young master," Kisha declared, her voice imbued with both authority and tenderness. "Your name is Rhys, and you are the true lover of my princess."

Her words struck him like a revelation, and Rhys’s eyes widened in astonishment. "Lover? Wait....how did I even lose my memories?" he asked, a trembling mix of confusion and hurt coursing through him. "I can’t remember anything about myself, and that is a pain I can hardly bear."

As Rhys spoke, his gaze shifted toward Anaya, whose expression was a mix of sorrow and longing. Without thinking, and driven by a surge of protective instinct, he raised his hand and tenderly wiped away the tears that streaked her face, inadvertently smearing the mud from his body across her delicate skin. "Damn," he muttered softly to himself, "I’d better go have a bath in that river." With an air of reluctant resolve, he continued, "You can tell me everything I need to know when I return."

Without wasting another moment and emulating the gestures Kisha had shown him earlier, Rhys began to trace familiar words with his fingers onto Anaya’s back. His touch was both gentle and deliberate as if trying to etch a new identity onto her skin. "I’ll be back, princess," he promised, his tone mingling determination with warmth. "I need to bathe and wash away all this mud. Please, wait for me."

Anaya nodded in silent agreement, her eyes glistening with unshed tears even as she tried to muster a semblance of hope.

Meanwhile, Kisha’s nimble fingers moved steadily, onto Anaya’s back. "He wants to know about his identity, Your Highness, and I’ll tell him everything. It won’t instantly restore his lost memories, but it will guide him along the path to connecting the dots of his past."

Kisha paused for a moment. "Should I go ahead and tell him everything?" Her words written on Anaya’s back with her fingers lingered in the cool night air as she awaited Anaya’s response.

"Yes, tell him everything," Anaya replied, as she continued to trail the words on Kisha’s back. "Tell him about how I was utterly obsessed with him....even when we were trapped at that ruined pack. But do not mention that the locket was the reason I lost my sight or that I lost it because of him. Do not tell him that I was blinded in that ruined pack, leaving him only barely alive by sheer luck. And, oh, please...do not ever utter that we are lovers." Her expression shifted, each word written on Kisha’s back dripping with the bittersweet pain of regret and longing. "Simply let him know how deeply I was obsessed with him. And, for heaven’s sake, do not insist that his recovering his memories is a prerequisite for me to regain my sight, or that his falling in love with me is necessary for me to reclaim my senses."

Kisha’s eyes softened as she nodded in agreement, her fingers resuming their careful, deliberate inscription on Anaya’s back. "I’ll do just that your highness."

"If he is truly meant to fall in love with me, then let it be so but it must come from a place of genuine affection, not from obligation or pity," Anaya concluded, her fingers trailing over Kisha’s back who nodded her head in agreement.

As Rhys continued to swim in the river splashing into its cool embrace, the night seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the unraveling of truths that would shape their intertwined destinies.