Divorce The Duke, Marry The King!
Chapter 95: It is fading

Chapter 95: It is fading

"Thank you... and I am sorry," she murmured, expressing both gratitude and regret.

She did not know how much longer Quinn’s mark would remain on her before it faded completely. But unless he chose to reject her, it would persist, if not upon her neck, then within her. She needed to find a way to make him sever their bond as soon as possible, things could not continue this way.

"You needn’t worry about forcing his rejection. I have a plan," Hezekiah assured her.

She frowned. A plan? What kind of scheme had he devised? Was he planning to threaten Quinn? That would be utterly foolish if so.

"How?" She asked, curiosity laced in her voice.

"Tonight belongs to us. We shall speak of it later."

Without warning, he lowered his head and grazed her neck with his fangs. A sharp gasp escaped her, and though the sensation startled her, it had served its purpose. The gathered crowd erupted into cheers, convinced that the marking had taken place.

"We have a Queen!"

"All hail the Alpha!"

Their voices rang through the night, celebrating Hezekiah as a true Alpha, utterly unaware of what had truly transpired.

He stepped back, putting distance between them, his ever-confident smile returning. Belle hesitated before offering an awkward smile in return. Were they all truly so oblivious? A marking was not always so quick, surely someone must have noticed. But what did it matter? They needed them to believe what she wished for them to believe.

"Now, our Alpha must seek out his mate, and our Luna must do the same," the priest declared. "You shall both be blindfolded, and may the Moon Goddess grant the Alpha her guidance to find Luna first."

Belle inhaled deeply, bracing herself. This was the part she despised most, the search, though thrilling, it was repulsive. Wandering through a sea of bare-chested, eager werewolves, hands grazing unfamiliar skin in search of her supposed mate. Worse still, the ritual demanded physical contact to prove she was truly searching. But then again... Hezekiah would endure the same fate, wading through half-clad women seeking him out. Perhaps there was amusement to be found in that.

"The Alpha shall go first," the priest announced.

A blindfold was handed to Hezekiah, and a servant stepped behind him, tying the fabric securely over his eyes.

"Do not make it easy for him!" The crowd cheered.

Belle smirked. She recalled her ceremony with Quinn. Despite her best efforts to evade him, he had found her in less than two minutes. By contrast, it had taken her well over fifteen to find him with the scent of so many werewolves clouding her senses until focus became impossible.

She was led toward a gathering of half-dressed women, placed at the center of them.

"Let the search commence," the priest declared.

Hezekiah descended from the altar, stepping into the circle of waiting women.

At once, they scattered around him, brushing against his skin, their hands roaming. They whispered seductive words in his ear, some even pressing themselves against him. Yet he did not waver. His resolve did not break.

He pushed through them all, relentless in his search for Belle.

Just as Hezekiah was about to reach Belle, she dodged his grasp and darted to the far corner, her laughter bubbling up as she grinned mischievously.

Hezekiah halted, realizing his current approach would not work. Tilting his head slightly to the left, he inhaled deeply, smiling as her scent reached him. Choosing to play along, he continued his search among the women, deliberately exaggerating his struggle to make it seem as though he was having difficulty.

Just as he was about to seize her again, Belle swiftly sidestepped him, expecting to evade his grasp. Yet, to her surprise, he did not reach for her. Instead, he walked away.

She froze, confused. Wasn’t he about to catch her?

The moment she turned to confirm, she gasped as a firm, bare chest collided against her back. Strong arms wrapped around her, drawing her into a warm embrace.

"Caught you," he murmured, placing a brief kiss upon her neck. A shiver coursed through her.

"That was cunning!" The crowd erupted in cheers, marveling at the way Hezekiah had deceived her.

"The King has found his Queen!" the priest proclaimed, prompting another round of applause.

Lifting her effortlessly, Hezekiah carried her toward the altar, only setting her down once they arrived. A servant stepped forward, removing his blindfold. The moment his gaze met hers, he smiled.

"I will win," she declared confidently as the servant moved to cover her eyes.

"Let’s see," he replied, his tone laced with amusement.

Something warm and unspoken settled in Hezekiah’s chest. He had never known Belle to be this playful, and the realization filled him with a quiet joy. If the mating ceremony could bring out this side of her, then perhaps—just perhaps—winning her heart would not be as impossible as he had once feared.

Meanwhile, the servants led Hezekiah to the group of waiting men, half-dressed and horny, their eyes filled with hunger as they prepared for Belle’s search.

Taking a deep breath, Belle steadied herself. Follow the scent, not the body. That was what she told herself.

Hezekiah carried a distinct, rich chocolate scent, one she was fond of. With that in mind, she felt confident in her search.

"Let the search commence," the priest announced.

Belle descended from the altar, stepping into the throng of men.

Using her training, she deftly avoided most of their wandering hands. Some touches, however, could not be evaded, and she forced herself to remain unaffected as she wove through them, searching for that familiar scent.

Suddenly, firm hands seized her waist, yanking her backward into a solid body. Before she could protest, a voice murmured against her ear, "I am here."

Her breath hitched.

"Quinn!" His name left her lips in a barely audible whisper.

"Watching these men lay their hands on you makes me want to tear them apart," he growled. "So I had to join the game myself."

Belle immediately struggled against him.

"Let me go. Now," she ordered.

Instead of releasing her, he lowered his lips to the faded mark on her neck, his tongue sweeping over it in a slow, deliberate motion. A shudder wracked her body.

"We must rekindle the mark," he murmured. "It is fading." And she stiffened.

Just as she feared he would sink his fangs into her skin, he suddenly vanished, leaving her standing alone amidst the sea of men.

Her breath came fast, erratic. Then, without warning, flashes of her first night with Quinn surged through her mind. Her frown deepened. What has he done?

A new sensation coiled within her, unsettling and unbearable. She felt an ache, a yearning for her mate’s touch, his warmth, the sound of his voice against her ear.

"Belle!"

Hezekiah’s voice shattered her daze as he shook her by the shoulders.

"No," she whispered, breathless and shaken.

Hezekiah’s brows furrowed. Confusion flickered across his face.

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