Ch. 266..270: The Rogue is a Female Alpha chapter 266-270

apter 265

killing your father on the battlefield. I will atone for that sin with anything, with everything… except letting you go to another man as his bride. I need you.”

Pinned between rock and fire, helpless beyond reason, I could only stare. His voice, his words, his posture, it tore me apart.

Sadness swelled, heavier than before. Sad that we had come to this place. Sad that everything had to be this way. And sadder still… that even after it all, I couldn’t bring myself to choose.

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Zephyrine

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“Get up,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper, but he didn’t obey. Instead, he spoke.

“I’m sorry, Zephyrine. I don’t know how else to apologize for losing myself and… I swear, I don’t know.”

I swallowed. Somehow, I could see it. The sincerity in his eyes. It was so genuine that I felt almost guilty for making him apologize. I lowered my gaze and walked up to him.

Gently, I reached for his hand and guided him to his feet, where he stood before me, dominant, powerful, and unbearably beautiful.

I pulled back cautiously and looked up into his eyes tenderly. That pale golden gaze, still capable of melting my heart, caught me off guard. And then I realized something.

I wasn’t mad at him for killing my father. No. Somehow, someway, in a foolish, incomprehensible way, I could see his

gle and understand that he had done it

unintentionally.

And that understanding made my heart burn in anger at myself. I was supposed to be furious like Varyn, but I wasn’t, and that made me feel… unworthy of the Ashmere name.

“I have to go back home,” I muttered quietly, my heart racing.

I expected a response in words, but instead, he took a step closer. I swallowed, knowing his nearness was enough to make me lose control.

“Lycan…” I called, my voice trembling as his fingers circled my arm. I gasped softly, unsure of what he intended.

I kept my gaze away from his, shivering slightly, only for him to draw me gently toward him, his hands settling tenderly on my waist.

“Lycan…” I breathed softly as he leaned forward. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

“Why not?” he asked, his eyes searching mine, making me swallow hard. I flickered my gaze upward, trying to maintain unsteady eye contact.

His lips descended toward mine, but I looked away at the last second.

“We can’t do this,” I murmured, almost to myself. He swallowed, but his hands around my

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waist only became more tender. Then he reached up, brushing a strand of my hair aside to bare my neck.

Lycannar leaned forward, placing a soft, light kiss on the nape of my neck. I fluttered my eyes closed. I knew I was losing myself, and I knew I was supposed to run but somehow, I couldn’t. Not when he was this close, this careful, this intimate.

His palm cupped my check, exerting gentle pressure to keep my gaze on him as his thumb brushed softly against my lower lip.

His softened gaze held mine, as though to convey that the connection we shared transcended reasoning, that I loved him, and he loved me, no matter the consequences.

“Push me away if you don’t want this. I will let you,” he whispered softly before leaning in to press his lips to mine. Lightly. I allowed the brush of his lips against mine.

I knew I should have pushed him away, but no. Not when this moment was so beautiful, so desperate.

He deepened the kiss after a brief moment, then guided me toward the chair he had pulled out for me to sit. He knelt at my feet.

For a brief eternity, we stared at one another in silence, our breathing heavy, the lust thick in the air. Then his hands lifted the fabric of my gown, sliding off my underwear without resistance.

Lycannar returned to my lips with slow, tender kisses as he parted my thighs, his fingers brushing over me while his mouth kissed mine.

Then he tore his lips away to move downward, spreading my thighs further to lower his mouth to my clit. A sharp gasp escaped me immediately. My hands gripped his shoulders for support while my other hand clutched the edge of the table.

He licked me slowly, teasing, gentle. I restrained myself from moaning, but gasps escaped despite me.

Finally, he pulled back, cupping my neck as he kissed me. Restraint shattered. Every ounce of control I had was gone. I shuddered in his arms, wrapping my hands around his neck while he gripped my waist to deepen the kiss.

Every reason blurred. All that remained was us, consuming the lust that had built between us. I reached for his shirt, opening the first button, but paused, my heart hammering.

Without words, I broke the kiss and met his gaze. His softened eyes held a hunger that made me forget to breathe. I lowered my gaze, shivering at the power he had over me, over my

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body, over my will.

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Slowly, I pulled away, retrieving my underwear and dressing hurriedly, gathering my hair in my hands as I headed for the exit. But before I could reach the door, his voice stopped me.

“I found out the truth the same day we went to rescue your brother.”

I froze.

“When I blacked out, I tend to forget things. I didn’t know I had killed the werewolf warlord. All I knew was that I saved your brother from being murdered by his own kind.”

I turned slowly to stare at him, watching him rise from the chair, his gaze unwavering.

“I was told the truth the day we went to save him, and I swear to you, Zephyrine… when I found him first in the cage at Blackwater, it crossed my mind to kill him there… to prevent a situation like this, where you would deny us this happiness. A situation where you would deny me my rights.”

“I’m not your woman anymore, Lycan. It’s not your right to claim my body,” I said, attempting to be firm, but my words faltered, leaving an opening he could crawl into.

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Slowly, he walked up to me, and I tried so hard to stand my ground, but I lost the battle the moment his nearness stirred a new sensation I couldn’t resist.

Before I could even take a step back, his hand had already circled my waist. He stared into my eyes, stripping me bare of all pretense.

“It’s my right to claim your body, Zephyrine. You will always be my woman. You know the truth.”

I swallowed at the naked honesty in his voice. He was right. This was his right. I might have given back his ring, but I never returned his heart, which I took.

That made my body his right to claim, yet I didn’t want to give in so easily. I was an Ashmere. I was supposed to be furious at him for killing my father, whether it was intentional or not.

“Is that why your beasts are marking their territory?” I asked softly, my voice unsteady. His

s searched mine in confusion

“My beasts?”

He sounded genuinely confused, and I dropped my gaze, sighing shakily.

“The runes are coming back to my skin, and it’s painful this time. I need you to remove them like you did before.”

He looked surprised; his eyes showed it. He murmured to himself, still confused.

“None of my beasts marked you.”

At that, I lifted my eyes to him in anger. This pain had chased me for, and here he was denying it? Lycannar saw my rising anger, and his gaze softened further, his hold on me growing more tender.

“Can I see it?” he asked gently.

I lowered my gaze, thinking briefly. That was a trick. If I laid myself bare before him, I would lose all restraint. Could I still go through with it?

“Yeah,” I replied at last. Without another word, he turned me around to undo the zipper. His hands gathered my hair to the side as he slowly pulled the zipper down. When my back was

fully exposed, he paused, and I gulped at the sound he made.

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Silence fell. Everything seemed to freeze until his fingers softly brushed over my back, right at the spot where the runes lay, and I sighed shakily.

“It’s like mind but… those runes… they’re not from my beasts,” he murmured.

I made to protest, but his fingers had already moved from my back, and his palm came to cover my breast from behind.

He leaned closer, whispering against my car,

“Those runes are mine. But I didn’t put them there this time.”

“Then who did?” I asked.

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he answered by giving my breast a tender squeeze, making my eyelids flutter shut.

“Lycan…” I breathed.

“I’ll be gentle,” he promised. “Just a quick one before you go.”

My gods. Against all reason, I knew I had to say no, but that wasn’t what came out.

Instead, I rolled my hips back against his hard length, and he breathed hotly against my ear. Sexy, dangerous, before we both lost control, letting the lust speak for us.

Lycannar drew the zipper down completely, letting my gown pool at my feet. He guided me gently to the bed, his lips finding mine.

Together, kissing, he laid me down, my head sinking into the pillow. We had only come to talk, but our bodies demanded more than conversation. This was its own kind of discussion.

He kissed me again, brushing his lips against mine while his hardness pressed against me, heat pooling between my thighs.

“Get it off,” I muttered against his lips. “Your shirt. Trousers. Clothes. Everything. Now.”

I was losing it completely. I surrendered, admitting defeat. If I was going to be wayward, then I would do it fully.

Lycannar saw the impatience in my eyes and obeyed at once. He undid the buttons of his shirt hurriedly, peeling it off to reveal his solid, gorgeous chest. Broad shoulders. A body built like sin itself.

I swallowed at the sight, but as he reached for his trousers, he seemed too slow,

“I have to go.” I said suddenly, moving away from the bed.

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He caught my wrist, but I jerked away, reaching for my dress. Lycannar moved instantly to

stop me.

“Zephyrine, calm down.”

“No, I won’t!” I snapped, shoving him with my palm against his chest.

He stared at me, and it hit me all at once. I was frustrated. Angry at myself for losing to him when I shouldn’t.

I looked away, blinking rapidly, telling myself it was just helplessness at his beauty. I was brainwashed. I should leave. For a moment, it almost worked.

I grabbed my dress to put it on, but he gently caught my wrist again. This time, he looked into my eyes, searching them for warmth, for understanding, his gaze apologetic.

“Zephyrine…” he said softly.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked back into his eyes as tears blurred my vision.

“Zephyrine, please.”

“I hate that I love you, Lycan,” I murmured helplessly. “I hate that I understand you. I hate so much that I want you.”

He searched my eyes, saw the depth of my pain and struggle, and tenderly released my wrist, stepping back.

“What should I do to make you love that you love me, then? Do you… want me to leave?”

I glared at him for even suggesting it. He swallowed hard, then murmured,

“Fine. Do whatever you want with me. I’m all yours anyway. Anything, Zephyrine. Punish me however you want.”

That was it. He wanted punishment? Good. I stepped closer to him, staring into his eyes as I murmured,

“Take me back to that bed… and fuck me so hard. Too hard.”

His jaw clenched. That was the last straw. He looked at me one last time before obeying, his

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restraint snapping completely.

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A man already crazed with lust, given permission to unleash it. I knew I was in for a hard treat.

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Kissing her didn’t just turn into passion; it turned into worship. She had told me she wanted to be fucked, but I knew better.

Deep down she wanted me to make love to her, to remind her, to make her believe she was making the right choice.

She was never truly mad at me. She understood me. And that brought relief, gratitude, ache in my chest for her, and made me love her even more.

I took her pale nipple into my mouth, sucking with a hunger that was more than lust, more than need.

It was a claim, a prayer, a confession. The heat between us pulsed like a living thing.

It couldn’t be ignored. What we felt, what we had. It was raw, it was ours, and we both cherished it even when we hated ourselves for it.

“Lycan…” she moaned, soft and breaking, as I laid her down, letting her head sink into the pillow like she was something sacred.

Staring at her sex, gods, I realized how much I had missed her, the taste of her, the smell of her skin, the sound of her breath.

I didn’t know how deep it went until my tongue brushed her clit earlier and she trembled under me.

I lowered my tongue again, slower this time, savoring her, tasting her like she was the first and last water in a desert.

She jerked in pure ecstasy, and I held her thighs, palms caressing her, coaxing her deeper into the wetness she tried to hold back.

Her fingers dug into my shoulders, her moans caught between restraint and surrender. I kissed my way up to her lips, holding her eyes for a heartbeat before turning her onto her stomach.

Her skin… gods, her skin. I kissed down her back, each kiss a burn, each kiss a mark of worship. She trembled under my mouth.

I reached her buttocks, squeezing softly, worshiping her curves with my hands, with my eyes.

Then I licked lower, trailing my tongue to her most hidden place. She moaned, a soft, desperate sound, and I grew gentler, easing a finger inside to prepare her carefully.

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Her sigh was shaky, and I slowed, almost reverent. I slicked myself with spit, not wanting to hurt her, wanting to honor her even as my restraint trembled.

I stroked myself, making sure I was slick, then pressed carefully into her. Her gasp ripped the air between us. I paused, letting her adjust to my size, my length since it had been days we made love.

I moved softly at first, careful, letting her body take me, until she moaned louder, until her hips moved to meet mine. Then I thrust deeper, urgency climbing, her voice rising like a cry when I pause to lean forward.

“Love, be quiet…” I whispered against her ear. “I don’t want to share that sound with anyone else.”

She obeyed for a heartbeat, then rebelled, moving with me harder, louder.

I eased out to shift, but she straddled me, fierce eyes, fierce voice that says.

“Then don’t stop. Fuck me harder so I can moan louder for the whole world to know I’m yours.”

Her words cut me open. Challenge accepted.

I let her sink down on me, my groan low and rough as she bounced, hair falling like a curtain. I spread her thighs wider, brushing her clit as we both neared the edge.

Sudden lust. Reason blurred. She drove me deeper and I sat up, circling my arms around her as she leaned back on me, our hips slamming together. Her moans filled the room, my groans wrapped around them.

We lost ourselves in each other. The bed shook under us. I turned her to lay down, pinning her

control gone. wrists above her head, my

I drove into her again and again, deeper than before, until it came. The tremor, the quiver, the climax that shattered me.

Panting, sweat dripping, I kissed her as I filled her, marking her from the inside.

At last, I rolled to my side, looking at her. She avoided my eyes but I took her chin, forced her to look at me. Original content can be found at find⦿novel.net

What I saw in her eyes completed me. Love. Desperation. Fire. She cherished this, even if it

broke her.

I sighed, caressing her.

“I want you, Zephyrine. Like this every day and night. Every second. Please.”

She stayed silent, eyes on me, then lowered her gaze.

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“You’re considered an enemy of all werewolves now that the truth is out that you killed our warlord.”

Silence dropped like a blade and She searched my face when I didn’t speak.

“What? You’ll give up chasing me now?”

“Am I your enemy too, Zephyrine?” I asked instead. “It’s your father, your warlord. You’re a werewolf. The only words that matter to me are yours. What you feel means everything. Tell me. Am I your enemy too?”

mad “Do you give me a choice?” she whispered, looking down, sighing. “I understand you go once in a full moon. And just because I went to bed with you now doesn’t mean I forgive you, Lycannar.”

I swallowed hard, reached for my shirt on the floor, and took out our engagement ring. I slid it onto her finger as our eyes locked.

“Punish me any way you want, but not by being unhappy,” I said softly. “Hit me. Hate me. Kill me. But be my wife still, because if I can’t have you, then no one will, Zephyrine.”

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I stared at my face in the mirror, still stunned I had let him thrust into me. The love he made to me tonight was… different from anything we had ever shared before.

He had left his traces on my skin, on my body, in a way I knew even a potion, whatever Varyn might force me to drink, could never crase.

I washed my face, trying to push the thought away. After drying off, I smoothed walked out of the bath chamber into the room.

my

dress and

He stood by the window, arms folded across his chest, his cloak draped over his shoulders, looking more formidable than ever. From behind I paused, watching him.

He was… dangerous. If he could kill my father in one strike, then the power he carried was immense. So immense, because my father had been the Warlord and gods knew, I had sparred against him, tried to win, but failed each time.

We had promised to reschedule before war took him, but we never had the chance. My moves were rusty compared to my father’s.

Warlord Vale had been considered the best with the sword and even he had admitted he could not trust himself with a blade in hand.

Yet this man before me, this Lycan King, had struck him once and ended his life. How? What gods or goddess had Lycannar worshiped to gain such strength?

He was cold and dangerous to everything, even to himself… but to me he was always soft. Gentle. Kind.

I lowered my gaze, still feeling the dull ache where he had thrust into me. I walked further into the chamber, my voice soft.

“I will be on my way now.”

At this, he finally turned, carrying himself with that natural, kingly presence that came from years of being trained for it.

He looked at me briefly, then shifted his gaze to the table where food waited. He stared in silence before turning back, closing the distance between us.

“Are you okay?”

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The question made me swallow hard. I didn’t want that tenderness from him, and I certainly shouldn’t still be wearing his ring.

“I am getting married the night after tomorrow, Lycannar. The ceremony will be held in Hue Pack. I came to tell you not to come, if ever you planned to.”

He showed no reaction. Just stood there, staring at me. And for a fleeting moment, unease curled in my chest.

Wait. Did he truly not plan to interrupt? No obsession left? Would he just let me be whisked away by another man without a fight?

“You are not getting married to any man, Zephyrine,” he murmured at last, his tone carrying

would marry that finality as he moved toward the door. Then he paused, turning back. “So you crazy man who tried to force himself into your bed and bind your life with a spell?”

I froze, not answering, because as much as it was insane… part of me felt relieved. Special. His possessiveness and obsession were still intact.

“If I don’t comply, it will seem I am rebelling,” I admitted at last, my voice low.

“That’s not true.” He shook his head with a sigh. “You are accepting this wedding because deep down you believe it’s a way to ask your father for forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness?” I choked, his accuracy chilling me.

“You slept with the man who killed him. You love me still. And you think being unhappy is the price to pay for that, your way of making it right with your father. That’s exactly what Zephyrine Ashmere would think.” His voice hardened. “I will come that night. It will cost me dearly, but I will make the journey. And I will stop you from being taken from me.”

He saw right through me. My gods, he always did. And it hurt, because he was one of the very

book. few who could read me like an open

I bit my lower lip, turned away, and reached for the door. Without a word, I stepped out of the tavern into the cold dark night.

I walked faster, my heart racing, wondering why he wasn’t chasing after me. The urge to look back gnawed at me, but before I could, I heard the sound of his footsteps soft, steady, and the quiet thud of hooves.

He wasn’t riding. He was walking beside his horse, just as he used to sometimes. I loved that. Loved that he wasn’t trying to overtake me, wasn’t trying to force me. Loved that even when he gave me distance, he was still following. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ

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He hadn’t given up on me. He still loved me, still chased me, and that alone made me breathe. easier, knowing he would come to interrupt that wedding night. Maybe it was time. Maybe.

I stopped abruptly, and I heard him stop too. Slowly, I turned to see him standing there with his arms folded, his eyes on me. What disturbed me more was the way the women leaving the tavern were ogling him.

A sharp, familiar sting pricked my chest. Jealousy.

“Ride your horse,” I said quietly, knowing he’d hear. “Now, Lycan.”

He didn’t reply, but he obeyed. Mounting, he guided the horse forward until it stood beside me. Then he extended his hand, palm open.

“I’ll give you a ride,” he said simply. My eyes dropped to his fingers, still wearing my ring. A reminder that I was his, no matter how I tried to deny it.

Slowly, I looked up into his eyes, and I knew I couldn’t take his hand. Couldn’t accept the ride. Lycannar was powerful, yes, but he had too many weaknesses, and I wouldn’t risk him being hurt by my people, not even after what he had done.

Instead, I turned, placed Blue Diary into his palm, and almost glared at him.

“Give it to Blue. And hide that handsome face of yours if you truly want me,” I warned before zooming away, leaving behind only a rush of air.

Arriving at Ash Pack was quicker than I expected, but exhaustion weighed heavy on me. I scaled the wall with ease, claws gripping stone, and leapt into my chamber, landing soundlessly on my feet.

It was… delicious. Meeting him. Spending time with him. Letting him inside me again. gods, it

was so…

“You came home late.”

The voice from behind froze me. Cold spread through my chest at the familiar tone, laced with danger.

“And you reek of sex, little sister. I only hope it’s not what I think.”

Varyn Ashmere. My brother. And I knew, I knew, what he was capable of.

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It all went still when I turned and saw him standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.

My heart thudded at his presence. It was like he had been waiting for me. His gaze gave nothing away, yet I swore I could feel it. The anger simmering in him, and the vow that someone would pay.

“I was hoping to sleep by your side tonight,” he murmured, voice deceptively lazy as he pushed away from the wall, moving toward me. “I couldn’t find peace since I returned from Blackwater. But what I found here surprised me. No one in your bed.”

“Varyn…”

“I told you someone killed our father, our father, and led our family to die on the battlefield. And yet you left the pack behind my back to… to do what with him?”

He was close now, his presence pressing down on me, and I swallowed hard. Fierceness burned in my chest, but I couldn’t rebel against my brother. Not like this.

“He apologized, Varyn,” I whispered, though the words died in my throat when his eyes locked on mine.

“He raped you?”

My chest tightened, and I shook my head firmly. Patience slipping, I murmured,

“I told you, Lycannar isn’t like that.”

“Really?” His voice sharpened, almost mocking. “So what is he then? A madman who loses his mind once a month?” His stare pinned me. “Do you truly believe the Moon Goddess would bless your union with him?”

My heart slammed painfully. Tension sparked between us until I lowered my gaze, trembling.

“Please don’t call him a madman. He has a condition, and I promised to help him. He will improve and…”

A bitter laugh cut me off, dry and cruel. My brother laughed in my face, then suddenly pulled me into his arms, clutch too tight, suffocating.

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And then he shoved me down on the bed, rough and furious.

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“Work with him? Under my watch? My own sister?!” he roared. My breath caught as he swept a table violently to the ground, shattering it into pieces.

His chest rose and fell as he raked his hands through his hair, looking half–mad. Then he straightened, reached out his hand.

“Come. Let’s take a walk.”

Danger thickened in the air, and though fear coiled inside me, I had no choice. I turned from his hand, but when I stepped out, he gripped my arm, dragging me not so gently through the hall and into the meeting chamber.

He shoved me inside.

I stood frozen, breath uneven. And then my gaze fell forward, and I nearly went into shock. A man stood ahead, a little younger but with the bearing of Lycannar’s age mate. His aura told me who he was instantly.

Gaxib. Blue’s older brother.

He wasn’t alone. Warriors from the Moonveil Fortress flanked him, and my blood went cold.

“Just when I thought only to expose him for what he is,” Varyn’s voice rang out, “but the fact he killed my

father and thinks he can take my sister is enough for me to wage war.”

I turned to him, heart racing, but he already had his fingers locked around my wrist. He dragged me to a chair and sat me down, standing over me.

“My little sister… you may not know this man, but his name is Gaxib. He is a Lycan.” Varyn leaned close, voice low in my ear. “And just like our father, slain when that mad King lost control, this man too lost his mother at Apex’s hand.”

I bit my lip, throat tight, as Varyn turned me to face him fully.

“You’ve been brainwashed by him, Zephyr. You need help. And I will help you. All you have to do is tell me his weaknesses. Apex is formidable, but he has flaws. Flaws that can strip him bare. Tell me.”

Pain swelled in my chest. My brother and I, on opposite lines. My lips stayed sealed. I would never betray Lycannar. Never.

But it was as if Varyn had already expected my silence. His mouth curved in a grim smile.

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“Gaxib… he already knows Apex’s weaknesses.”

My blood froze.

“A golden anklet around his ankles.”

I went rigid, fear replacing defiance.

“He cannot stay away from the Black Tower for more than one nights.

“Varyn, please…”

“The mirror. He must never look at it.”

“Varyn…”

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“And his two sisters…” His eyes flicked to the ring on my finger, then back to my face. His voice dropped. “There will be war tomorrow, Zephyr. And you will be the cause. If you agree to marry Nyroth of Hue Pack, stay away from that cursed King, then maybe… maybe I won’t use his weaknesses against him.” Original content can be found at fındnovel.net

A deal. A threat. My heart pounded. Those weaknesses, whatever they meant, I knew they could destroy him. And I couldn’t bear the thought.

“I’ll marry Nyroth,” I whispered, voice breaking. “Whatever you want, Varyn. Just… leave Lycannar out of this. He apologized for killing our father. He didn’t even know what he was doing then.”

Silence stretched. My brother stared at me, unblinking. As if I had just chosen. As if I had just crossed the line.

Finally, he swallowed and stepped back.

“Lock the Alpha of Ash Pack in her chamber,” he commanded coldly. “She speaks to no one. Sees no one. Not until the night of her wedding.”

Guards moved in.

“Varyn!” I screamed, thrashing against them. “Stay away from Lycannar! Just because he is silent, just because he lives alone in that tower, doesn’t mean he has no backup. Doesn’t mean he is weak or foolish!”

“Really?” His voice seared hot as he leaned down, lips brushing my temple. “You’re infected, my dear sister. Infected by a disease. And I will cure you, by killing the host. I will chop his ankles off. Burn his tower to ash. Leave him shattered. Then I’ll march on his kingdom,

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slaughter his people, capture his sisters, strip them, and let them be ruined, just as their brother ruined you, my own beloved sister.”

My blood turned to ice.

The guards dragged me out, my protests broken, my body weak with terror as I began to realized this isn’t just a simple anger. It’s a war.

My brother’s power grew by the day, and if he get crowned as Warlord of the werewolves, every army would march at his word.

And Lycannar… Lycannar was powerful, yes. But his army? His army, the formidable Blood Arny had been slain five years ago by Ashmere blades.