Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle
Chapter 138: Mourning in session.

Chapter 138: Mourning in session.

Eventually, Rhys emerged from the water, droplets clinging to his skin. One of the servants had returned from the nearby village with a change of clothes, and Kisha promptly handed it to him. Without a word, he dressed in the new outfit...a fresh, comfortable nest robe.

Kisha didn’t bring up the subject of Rhys’s identity. Not yet. Everyone was more concerned about how to continue the journey smoothly. The discussion could wait until they reached a safer place.

Once Rhys was fully dressed, they resumed their journey to the village the servant purchased an outfit from. The servant had already managed to secure a room.

"Good evening," the inn’s desk secretary greeted with a knowing smile as Anaya, Rhys, and Kisha stepped into the warmly lit reception area. "I hope you’re aware...there’s only one room left. It’s a couple’s suite, and I assure you, you’ll enjoy our finest service."

Rhys cleared his throat.

Kisha raised an eyebrow. "What should we do now?" she asked, feigning concern before glancing between the two. "I suppose you and Her Highness will have to share the room. I’ll stay in the carriage outside. The guards will keep watch over me."

Rhys’s brows furrowed. "That’s impossible, Kisha. I can’t..."

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Don’t worry, young master. You can spend the night with Her Highness. It’s better this way."

Then, as if to explain the situation further, Kisha moved toward Anaya and gently traced words along her back with her fingers. Anaya’s expression softened as she nodded in understanding, her cheeks blooming with joy as she turned to Rhys.

Rhys blinked. "We’re of opposite genders! Doesn’t she realize that?" he muttered under his breath, glaring in Kisha’s direction as she retreated through the inn doors, leaving them alone. "That maid..."

He ran a hand through his hair and let out a deep sigh. Then, after a moment of silent deliberation, he turned toward Anaya, his resolve hardening. Without warning, he stepped forward and swept her off her feet in a bridal carry.

A gasp escaped Anaya’s lips, her body tensing with shock. But when she realized it was Rhys holding her, her fear ebbed away. She rested her head gently against his chest, soothed by the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat.

With deliberate steps, Rhys climbed the stairs, holding her close until they reached the only available room. Without a free hand to open the door, he lifted one leg and kicked it open with surprising force.

The door creaked open, revealing a breathtaking room drenched in soft candlelight. Red bridal decorations were strewn across every corner...the scent of fresh roses and lavender hung in the air. Silk curtains framed the bed, while golden lanterns flickered warmly.

Rhys paused for a moment, caught off guard by the romantic atmosphere. He let out a quiet groan. "Of course... it had to be this kind of room," he muttered under his breath.

Still carrying Anaya, he stepped inside, carefully making his way to the lavish bed. He gently placed her down on the mattress before turning toward the door to shut it behind him.

"I’ll take a warm shower. I’ll be right back, Princess," he whispered, tracing the words delicately on Anaya’s back with his fingers. "Do you need Kisha to help you with yours?"

Anaya nodded in response, her fingers fluttering against his back in reply. "No need for Kisha. I already bathed at the river. I’ll be here, waiting."

Rhys gave her a small nod, then made his way to the adjoining bathhouse. He soon returned, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, droplets of water glistening on his toned frame. His raven-black hair clung wetly to his neck and shoulders, and steam still clung to his skin like a veil.

Since Anaya couldn’t see, he casually let the towel slip from his waist and began dressing into a pair of soft trousers. He didn’t bother putting on a shirt...after all, there was no reason to, or so he told himself. She couldn’t see him, and he was comfortable this way.

"I’m done," Rhys announced as he returned to her side, writing the words again on her back. "I’ll sleep on the couch. You can have the bed to yourself."

Anaya nodded, but before Rhys could step away, a sudden wave of dizziness struck him. He staggered, placing a hand against his temple and leaning closer to her.

"What... what’s wrong with me?" he whispered, his voice hoarse, barely audible. His body felt inexplicably hot, his breath unsteady.

At the same time, Anaya reached up to loosen the collar of her robe. Her slender fingers tugged at the fabric around her neck, revealing her delicate collarbone to the candlelight. A soft sheen of sweat clung to her skin. She, too, seemed flushed and uncomfortable.

Rhys’s breath hitched at the sight. His eyes darkened as desire stirred beneath the confusion. He swallowed hard, trying to look away...but it was already too late.

Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and captured her lips in a desperate, searching kiss.

Anaya’s hands fluttered up to his bare chest in surprise, trembling against the warmth of his skin. She instinctively pushed at him, her body reacting before her mind could process. But as the realization dawned that it was Rhys....her Rhys...she didn’t pull away.

Anaya soon bit down on his lip the moment she came back to her senses, sharp enough to draw a gasp from Rhys. The sting jolted him back to his senses, prompting him to break the kiss. He pulled away, breathing heavily, his body still burning with unfamiliar heat. His gaze landed on the red candles glowing steadily around the room, casting a sensual hue on everything.

His eyes narrowed.

"Do... do these candles contain aphrodisiacs?" he muttered, eyebrows furrowed in suspicion.

He wanted to blow them out, to rid the room of whatever spell it had cast on his senses but his limbs betrayed him. They were sluggish, heavy, weighed down by the heat radiating inside him. Despite his better judgment, despite the rational warnings screaming in his mind, he found himself unable to resist the pull toward Anaya. His seven inches dragon was already hard and it feels like it was going to burst if he doesn’t lay with a woman.

"I’m sorry, Princess," Rhys murmured in a strained whisper, guilt and desire twisting in his chest.

He leaned in again, brushing his lips against hers, slower this time, but no less desperate. Then, without giving himself time to reconsider, he lifted her gently and laid her down on the rose-scented bed, hovering over her as his hands moved to loosen the intricate folds of her garments.

****

Meanwhile, back at Lupien Palace...

The imperial palace had transformed into a solemn sanctuary of mourning. White drapes adorned every wall, fluttering softly in the wind. Servants moved silently through the halls, each dressed in ceremonial white, their faces stoic and subdued. Outside the palace walls, the kingdom had fallen into a collective hush. Shops remained shuttered, laughter absent. The people had heard of the Alpha Emperor’s death, and in accordance with tradition, they wore white and stayed indoors to grieve.

Within the estate of the Gamma Lord, however, grief took a darker turn.

Melissa had rushed to her father’s manor the moment to discuss not when she had met with the empress dowager this morning.

"That woman will no doubt crown the Beta Lord as the new Alpha Emperor the moment the mourning period ends," Melissa said, with a cold smile curving her lips. One hand rested protectively on her still flat belly, her eyes gleaming with cunning.

"I’ve decided...I’ll commit treason if I must. Eliminate anyone who stands in my way."

The Gamma Lord’s voice boomed through the chamber, followed by a dark, victorious laugh.

"You’re not going to do that, Father," Melissa snapped, her voice sharp and commanding. Her tone left no room for debate. "One wrong move, and you won’t be the only one executed...our entire bloodline will be wiped out. I knew you’d have such reckless thoughts, which is why I came here myself. Do not do anything foolish."

Her father scoffed. "What do you know about politics, Melissa? You’re young and emotional. They’ll never allow you to serve as regent now that you’re pregnant."

He leaned forward, eyes narrowed.

"But if I become Alpha Emperor," he said, voice low and intense, "you’ll give birth in safety. Once your child is old enough, I’ll step down and hand the throne to him. It’s the only way we can preserve our power."

He continued, "If the Beta Lord takes the throne and has children of his own, do you honestly think your son will ever be considered Crown Prince?"

Melissa’s expression darkened.

"He’ll have no other children," she replied coldly. "Even the late emperor’s concubines never bore him children....I made sure of that. I damaged their wombs with my own hands, and none of them ever discovered the truth. If Dimitri becomes emperor and brings in more women, I’ll do it again. I’m still the Empress, after all. I still control the Inner Court."

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