Transmigrated: The Lycan King's Pet
Chapter 45 The Last Lycan

Chapter 45: Chapter 45 The Last Lycan

I turned to face her this time. I don’t know how to explain it, but I felt so relieved and peaceful in her presence. ’I guess all mothers carry that warmth.’

"Don’t the other creatures want to occupy the land?"

"Of course they want to, but because of the Lycan heading over the werewolf packs, they were unable to snatch the land."

"Lycan? What is so special about them?" My brows furrowed in confusion, as I couldn’t tell exactly why the Lycans were more special.

"Everything." She leaned closer to me, her eyes widened as her expression turned serious.

"Okay," I drawled, still unable to understand what she meant.

"The Lycans are the first werewolves formed by the goddess’ curse. They are known as the royalty of the werewolves. They tend to live longer than werewolves, and their strength is unfathomable. Their speed and force are thrice that of the normal werewolves. The Lycans are immune to magical spells, making them reverend among all creatures. However, they are very rare—the last war wiped out the few Lycans that were remaining." Her tone turned sad, her fingers tightly clenched over the brush in her hand.

"If the Lycans are gone, why are the werewolves still occupying the land?"

"Because one survived." A sad smile tugged on her lips.

"And why haven’t I heard about him?"

She scoffed at me, her look turning to one of disbelief. "It’s not your fault for not knowing, as many werewolves do not speak much of it—because we are ordered not to. But he is none other than Alpha Damon. He is a Lycan, the last of his kind."

My shoulders tensed hearing his name. Now it all makes sense—the reason the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack had let me go was because Damon was actually a Lycan. His aura, that was so heavy even with a glare from him, makes the air suffocating to breathe. But doesn’t that mean that the chance of my escape has become slim?

This time, I leaned closer to her. "Do you know why he is unable to touch women?"

The woman smiled but shook her head. "That is for him to tell you. That is something I can’t say right now."

She turned me around before proceeding to comb my hair. "Your hair is different. Its colour, silvery white, is rumoured to be found in another realm."

"Which realm?" My heart stopped beating in anticipation.

"The Fae’s realm... and the human’s realm."

I sighed in relief hearing that it was two realms and not one. As I backed her, I missed the knowing glint that flickered through her eyes.

As she moved her hand down the left side of my shoulders, a burning sensation made me cry in pain. Tears welled up in my eyes. I removed my back from her touch. "What did you just do? Why is my shoulder hurting?"

"I’m afraid I can’t answer your question right now. But you must not let anyone see the mark on you—especially Damon..."

"What are you talking about? I don’t have any mark on me, except the old scars on my body." My brows knitted in pain. I tried to immerse it in the water, but it seemed to worsen the pain.

And yes, it is true. I had thought I was a special kind of Omega that the fantasy novels usually portrayed. But I was wrong. When I searched the body for any special markings, I couldn’t find any.

"Naive. No matter what you do, you must not leave this pack. If you do, only disaster and death are waiting for you."

"I don’t understand." I stood up from the tub, reaching for the sheets before getting out. The splashing of water on the ground filled the room momentarily.

"I’ll help you dress up." She ignored me as she helped me get into the brown and milk dress.

"I said I don’t understand what you meant," because I wanted to leave so badly.

"Don’t you have strange feelings for Alpha Damon?" Her brows arched as she led me out of the bathroom.

"Feeling? What do you mean by that?"

I can’t say for sure what my feelings for Damon are right now. A fling? There is nothing serious.

"Forget about it." She pushed me down to sit on the chair before styling my hair.

The silence was comfortable and peaceful. I loved how she gently combed through my hair. It reminded me of my mom—she had always combed my hair when I was a kid. Growing up and taking over the business made it impossible for her to do this for me.

The candle’s light casted a golden glow on my face. Seeing myself in the vanity mirror, a small smile tugged on my lips at the bruises that were fading away.

She braided my hair down. "I’m done."

"Thank you for helping me." I stood up to follow after her.

"You don’t have to see me out." She carried her bowl.

"But I’m also going out to see the werewolves who are waiting for me."

She gave a tight smile. "I see. But can you wait a few minutes for me to go out first?"

I frowned at her request. It was so weird, and I wanted to ask why she made such a request. However, I could see her discomfort, and I didn’t want to make her feel more uncomfortable.

Hesitantly, I gave a curt nod. She turned around, hastily walking out from the tent. Something didn’t settle well with me after she left.

I pursed my lips into a line. After a few minutes, I made my way outside. But before I could step out of the door, a lady entered with a bowl in her hand. Her features were exactly like the other lady who had just left my room a couple of minutes ago.

"Time to..."

Her voice trailed off as she saw I was already dressed up. Her expression turned to one of utter shock.

"Why did you come back? I thought you said you were done?" Confusion smeared on my face.

"What do you mean? I’ve not been here before, and it is just dawn." She looked at me with a bewildered look.

’Okay... what the hell just happened?’

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