Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle
Chapter 67: His Lips...

Chapter 67: His Lips...

"Hurry. We don’t have time to waste."

Sorayah swallowed hard, her expression laced with caution and uncertainty. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stepped forward, one foot dragging after the other, until she finally stood before him. Her eyes locked with Dimitri’s cold, commanding, and unreadable gaze.

Before she could speak, Dimitri moved. In one swift motion, he grabbed her by the waist and yanked her closer, so abruptly that their chests pressed tightly together. The contact sent a jolt of electricity down her spine.

"What are you..." she began to ask, but the words never made it past her lips.

In an instant, Dimitri bent her back and crashed his mouth against hers.

His lips...

They tasted of vanilla and honey, unexpectedly sweet, and soft like freshly whipped cream.

What the actual heck?! Sorayah’s thoughts screamed in alarm as her hands instinctively pushed against his chest. She squirmed, trying to break free from the madness, but his grip was iron-strong. Then, without warning, his tongue invaded her mouth and something solid slipped past her lips.

Her eyes widened in shock as she gagged slightly. Before she could spit it out, Dimitri angled her head and forced her to swallow.

He pulled away just as quickly as he had kissed her, releasing her from his hold. Sorayah stumbled back, gasping and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

She clutched her throat, her face pale. "Did you just...did you feed me something? What did you make me swallow?!" she shouted, rage now igniting in her voice. "And why the hell did you kiss me? Was that just so you could poison me? Is that it? Because I’m the Human Crown Prince’s personal maid?"

Dimitri let out a long, weary sigh. A wide, crooked smirk stretched across his face but it faltered just a second later.

His hand flew to his chest as his expression twisted in pain. He stumbled slightly before he doubled over and coughed harshly, a dark splatter of blood spilling from his lips onto the floor.

Sorayah’s anger evaporated in an instant.

Her eyes widened in horror. "What’s wrong with you?" she asked, taking a hesitant step closer, her brows furrowed in genuine confusion and concern.

But Dimitri turned his back on her, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His shoulders trembled, whether from pain or something else, she couldn’t tell.

"It’s nothing," he muttered hoarsely. "You should feel better soon. You’ve been healed."

Her breath caught. "What?"

He scoffed lightly, the sound bitter and strained as he turned to face her back. "I didn’t feed you poison, dumbass," he snapped. "No one feeds poison using their mouth unless they’re looking to die too."

His words should’ve comforted her but his ragged breathing and the blood at his lips said otherwise.

"Then what did you..."

"I’m a werewolf," he interrupted, almost as if he were trying to convince himself more than her. "Poison wouldn’t affect me like this. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t go to such dramatic lengths. I’d just hand you the poison with my own damn hand and make sure you ate it. Simple."

He paused, his breathing labored now, and his hand remained pressed against his chest.

"But I didn’t do that," he added as he backed her again, his voice quieter, more strained. "Because I need you alive. I need you to follow me to war."

Sorayah stared at him, stunned into silence.

But then, something strange began to stir within her.

Warmth.

Strength.

The aches and cuts that littered her body from the earlier battle, wounds she hadn’t even had time to tend to were gone. Her skin, once bruised and scraped, was now smooth and unblemished. It wasn’t just healing, it was restoration. Her energy surged back to her, like water filling a dry well.

She flexed her fingers slowly, watching them with disbelief.

Her body felt... whole. As if she had never fought the living statues. As if nothing had touched her at all.

But it wasn’t her magic. Her healing magic hadn’t activated. There had been no glow, no internal stirrings of power.

It had come from him.

"So he fed me a healing medicine."she whispered, more to herself than him

A warm smile curled at the corners of her lips as she inspected her body more closely.

But just as relief settled in, the memory of the kiss came crashing back into her thoughts like a tidal wave.

She looked up sharply, her face flushing with a mixture of confusion, indignation, and curiosity.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Sorayah began, swallowing hard. Her voice was stiff with restraint. "But you could have just handed me the healing pill. With your hand."

Her tone sharpened as she continued. "Why did you have to... kiss me?"

Her mind, however, was already racing. If you think biting the inside of your mouth and vomiting blood is enough to gain my sympathy and wave off the kiss like it never happened, you’re sorely mistaken, she thought.

Dimitri finally turned to face her. Blood still stained the corner of his mouth, but he made no move to clean it again.

"You seem to have forgotten something important," he said, his voice calm but laced with mockery. "You’re my personal sex slave."

Sorayah’s face flushed at the crude reminder, but he continued without a hint of shame.

"But that’s not the issue. What you swallowed wasn’t really a pill, at least not in the way you’re thinking. It was more like my saliva, infused with concentrated healing magic. I guess it did feel solid going down, didn’t it?"

His siliva?!

He saw the storm brewing in her eyes and raised a hand before she could interrupt.

"Don’t bother asking more questions. What matters is this, you’re healed. That was the goal. Now pick up your bow and arrow."

Sorayah hesitated, her thoughts spinning in a whirlwind of suspicion and disbelief. But eventually, she bent down and retrieved the weapon from the ground. There was no use in arguing. Not with Dimitri.

He has made up his mind about going to war with her.

And Dimitri Nightshade is not a man who changed his mind easily, if ever.

If she truly want to survive whatever madness he had planned, then she would have to learn. She would have to keep up. He is dangerous, unpredictable, and utterly unreadable but if she didn’t play along, she wouldn’t live long enough to figure out his game.

’For now, survival comes first.’

Dimitri’s voice soon broke through her thoughts like a stone crashing through glass.

"Show me what you’ve got, Sorayah."

The sound of her name falling from his lips sent a jolt through her. Instinctively, she moved, her legs parted, stance steady, the bow now nocked and ready in her hand. Her expression hardened as she turned to face the stream, the sunlight glinting off the surface of the water.

Just as she was about to release the arrow, Dimitri appeared before her in a blur of speed, his sudden movement halting her action.

"What now..." she started to ask, but before the words left her mouth, his hand lifted and redirected her attention.

A target appeared..no, many targets, wooden figures, painted like soldiers, standing two to ten meters away from her position. Their eyes glowed red, alive with a strange light.

An illusion? A trap? Either way, they were clearly not ordinary practice dummies.

She didn’t have time to ask questions. She could sense them moving slowly at first, but then faster, shifting across the field like predators.

Dimitri, now standing off to the side, smirked with amusement.

"If you can take down a hundred of them without getting shot," he said lazily, "I’ll show you a skill of mine, one that can wipe out a hundred soldiers in a single strike."

Sorayah’s stomach twisted. She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the bow.

She had told him she was the Human Crown Prince’s personal maid. That should mean she hated him for destroying the human kingdom, for killing members of the royal family, for hunting down the prince she claimed to serve.

And yet here he was, training her. Teaching her skills that she could one day use against him.

Was he crazy? Overconfident? Or was there something more?

Maybe, she reasoned, he believes that even if I learn everything he teaches me, I’ll still be no match for him.

That, somehow, felt even more terrifying than the idea of him simply being mad.

One thing was clear, Dimitri Nightshade was an enigma. And just when she thought she had figured out one piece of him, he revealed another layer. To truly understand him would take a lifetime.

How utterly exhausting, she thought with a sigh. He’s definitely planning something. Something dangerous.

Just then, the whistle of wind broke through her thoughts.

An arrow shot toward her face.

She ducked, barely in time. It grazed her cheek, leaving a thin, stinging line of blood.

Her eyes widened as she stared at the target, one of the wooden dummies had moved. It had aimed and fired at her.

They shoot back?!

Dimitri’s mocking voice drifted toward her like a breeze.

"Seems like you’ll be dead soon, Sorayah. These targets won’t go easy on you." He had taken a seat again by the stream, his back turned toward her, utterly relaxed. "How pathetic."

Never, Sorayah thought, fire igniting in her eyes. She turned, gaze burning, locking on the red-eyed targets scattered throughout the field.

They held bows of their own now. Dozens of them. Maybe more.

"You’re dead," she whispered, her voice low and lethal.

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