Mated To Alpha Kessler

Lyra’s POV

As I sit up on the bed, a haze clouds my memory, making me struggle to piece together how I ended up here.

Images from last night flood my mind-confrontations with my uncle, Kessler confining me to a room, and the moment he angrily dragged me to his chamber.

The recollection makes me gasp, and I hurry to the mirror to check for the mark. I feel disgusted seeing it.

The intensity of Kessler’s Lycan aura must have overwhelmed me, causing me to pass out.

In a daze, I rush to the bathroom. I look through the mirror, and the mark on my neck haunts me.

I can’t escape the fact that I am now unmistakably tied to Kessler, the one person I never wanted to be connected with.

I undress, feeling vulnerable and exposed. I clutch the sponge tightly and scrub my neck vigorously, desperate to erase the mark that connects me to Kessler.

With each scrub, I feel pains I can’t explain. It’s like an attempt to rid myself of the unwanted tie, but the mark stays.

Overwhelmed with helplessness, I stand there, naked and defeated. Tears stream down my face as I grapple with the harsh reality of my life.

I let out a scream as the room echoes my cries, filled with misery and confusion.

At that moment, I feel the weight of my past and the uncertainty of my future. The shocking revelation about my mother’s survival, the conversation with my uncle, and his demand for me to bear the Lycan King’s child within six months.

I collapse on the bathroom floor. The cold tiles offer little comfort as I try to make sense of the situation I find myself in.

Rising from the bathroom floor, I wrap a towel around myself, finding a newfound strength.

I want my mom safe, so I hurriedly shower and wrap a towel around me. As I leave the bathroom, there’s a gentle knock on the door.

Opening it, I see a young lady, maybe in her twenties, standing there. She greets me, “Good morning, ma,” and bows respectfully.

“Morning. How can I help you?” I ask.

“I’m Julie, assigned to serve you as a maid.”

“I don’t need one,” I reply, attempting to close the door. But she holds on and pleads, not giving up easily.

“Please, ma’am, let me be at your service. I wouldn’t want the wrath of the Lycan King. I can’t go back to him without his request being granted.”

I can’t ignore the desperation in her eyes. I feel pity for her, and that prompts me to step aside, allowing her to come inside. “Thank you, ma.”

“Alright, Julie, you can help but don’t feel the need to do too much. I’m not used to having a maid.”

Her face brightens with gratitude. “Thank you, ma! I’ll make sure to be helpful and not disturb you too much.”

“First of all, no ‘ma’am.’ Call me Lyra,” I insist.

She nods. “Okay, ma. My bad. Okay, Lyra.”

Despite the connection, I can’t let my guard down in this pack. Trusting anyone is risky-there could be a spy from my uncle or Alpha Tristan.

Julie goes to the wardrobe, saying, “Your closet has been stocked with clothes for any occasion.”

I’m not interested in anything related to Kessler, so I just wave my hand dismissively.This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

Julie picks out my outfits for the day and lays them on the bed. She ends up choosing a flowing blue flower gown.

She insists on styling my hair, and she does a good job of creating some curls that fall onto my shoulders.

I add a bit of makeup, using powder, lip gloss, and mascara to enhance my eyelashes.

Julie steps back, admiring her work. “You look beautiful, Lyra.”

I managed a small smile, appreciating her efforts. Despite the situation, it feels comforting to have someone genuinely trying to help.

“Breakfast with the Lycan King is in twenty minutes,” Julie informs me.

She notices my reluctance and approaches me, saying, “Please, for my sake. The Lycan King won’t take it easy on me if you don’t.”

I don’t want Julie getting into any trouble, so I reluctantly shrug and reply, “Okay, I’ll go.”

A smile spreads across her face as she thanks me.

When it’s time for breakfast, I go downstairs, making sure to cover my neck with a scarf. I can’t bear to see the satisfaction on his face when he sees the mark he left.

Julie escorts me to the dining area, filling me in on pack activities. It’s a spacious room with unfamiliar faces seated, waiting for others.

As I approach, all eyes turn toward me. The only familiar face is Zachary, Kessler’s beta.

Zachary greets me with a toothy grin, “Hi, Lyra. How are you doing? Sorry, I’ve been caught up with many things.”

I feel someone’s piercing eyes on me and look up to see Kessler, his expression stern, sending daggers toward Zach.

His intense gaze sweeps over me, taking in every detail. His scrutiny makes me shudder; there is tension in the room.

I refuse to give Kessler the satisfaction of knowing how deeply he affects me.

Zach guides me to my seat, pulling the chair for me to sit.

“Thank you,” I mutter.

“You’re welcome, my Luna,” he emphasizes the title that only I can hear.

I notice Kessler gripping his cutlery in anger, his eyes narrowed.

Zach introduces me to the rest of the people at the table, and I give a polite wave to each of them.

Silently, I eat, feeling out of place as I watch their lively chat. I sense eyes following my every move but don’t bother to look up.

Throughout the meal, Kessler ignores me, the mark he left intensifying the connection through the mate bond, flooding me with his emotions.

I finish my meal and stand up to leave, but all eyes are on me as if I had committed some unforgivable sin. I am puzzled, but Zach comes to my rescue.

He approaches me and whispers, “The Lycan king must be the first to leave the table before anyone else.”

“Thank you,” I gulp and take my seat again.

If looks could kill, I would be six feet below the ground.

After a few minutes, Kessler stands up without sending a glance my way. He marks me and proceeds to ignore my existence.

As everyone else starts to leave the table, I step into the corridor, finding a space. I continue walking until I reach a staircase.

Climbing it leads me to a sitting area, and in my distraction, I hadn’t paid much attention to my surroundings. I take note of the distant sound of laughter.

The laughter is rich and contagious, sending shivers down my spine. Only Kessler could have such an effect on me. I approach to get a better look, feeling like I need to murder someone right now.