Cursed Lycan's Scarred Mate
Chapter 69: Leaving his marks (semi 18+)

Chapter 69: Leaving his marks (semi 18+)

Ronan didn’t bother interrogating Soran any further. He scoffed at the Wickan dismissively, nudging his shoulder harshly as he passed by him with Vivian in his arms.

Soran stumbled back, clicking his tongue irritably at Ronan’s audacity. Displeased with the physical contact, the Wickan brushed off any remnants from his shoulder.

Making haste, Ronan brought Vivian back to their chambers, laying her carefully on the bed. His forehead creased worriedly, seating himself beside her.

"Why would you go off by yourself?" Ronan queried softly without any form of anger or exasperation in his voice. "Morgana may be an old companion of mine, but I do not trust Wickans to be safe around you."

As if sensing his overbearing concerns, Vivian’s eyes fluttered open. There was a moment of tension as she scrunched her eyes tightly, still affected by the headache hammering her mind without mercy.

Regaining her consciousness and sense of her surroundings, her emerald eyes found Ronan’s looming figure observing her keenly for any strange signs of discomfort or illness.

Oddly enough, her body was much lighter than before, no longer weighed down by constant pain. The dark symbols on her body, which always flared subtly like igniting fire across her body, seemed to have been extinguished.

Vivian’s body was as pristine and healthy as it was before her cursed fate.

Sitting upright with Ronan’s assistance, she rubbed her finger thoughtfully over the mark on her forehead as if to test whether her body’s current state was merely an illusion and the physical agony would return at any moment when she was unguarded.

"Princess?" Ronan addressed her affectionately, his usually sharp and predatory eyes softening. He took the Lycan’s advice into consideration, and thus he would speak in the same manner the beast spoke to their dear omega mate. "Are you alright?"

Vivian’s emerald eyes, although tired and sleepy, beamed with relief and a small flicker of excitement. She practically flung herself into Ronan’s arms, burying herself in the comfort of his broad, sturdy frame.

Mimicking his Lycan, Ronan embraced her back, gingerly running his hand down her back, followed by a tender kiss to her forehead.

Vivian’s head perked up to look at him, her arms tightly secured around his midsection while her chin pressed up against his chest.

"You’re here!" Vivian exclaimed.

Her pure exuberance sowed a seed of envy in Ronan. It was rather...heart-piercing to witness how much she adorned his Lycan more than him.

He only had himself to blame.

"What happened to you, princess?" Ronan pulled her closer onto his lap, his arms around her protectively. "Why did you leave the chambers by yourself?"

Vivian couldn’t gorge much of her own memory, noticing there were unprecedented gaps in her mind. The last she could put to memory was a harmless stroll through the gardens, and then she felt faint, unaware of what occurred next.

"I don’t really remember," Vivian said with a sigh. "I only felt my head throbbing, and then I think I went unconscious after that. I left the chambers because I wanted some fresh air."

Ronan couldn’t debate her need for a change of scenery and environment. Naturally, residing at his house and the enormous Sabre Coven mansion, she must have felt surfaced and caged.

He recalled that she was often restricted from visiting the outside world when she lived as Moonborn’s Omega daughter and then Nightshade’s supposed Luna.

The Lycan Alpha, attentive to her explanations, seemed to find himself lost in the glossy emerald of her eyes.

And unexpectedly, next, Ronan found himself initiating something that was more of a habit of his Lycan than him.

There was a foreign flutter in his chest, and he could feel the cold organ beating within him tighten as it yearned for something.

Deciding to pursue what the cold organ yearned for, Ronan gingerly cupped Vivian’s left cheek, using his other arm to press their bodies together heatedly.

Vivian didn’t object to his advances, and as if by instincts, her eyes closed to welcome what came next. Their lips connected, allowing each other to taste a shared breath, feeling the thuds of their combined heartbeats.

Vivian’s hand reached for Ronan’s tunic, fisting a handful of the material. Her lips were soft, almost silken and pillowy against his. He could feel the soft tickle of her breath beneath his nose as his fingers eagerly carded through her hair.

Vivian moaned into the kiss, her lips claimed and moving of their own will in time with his. Warmth blossomed in her chest; the jasmine scent of her perfumed skin was almost dizzying for Ronan.

Ronan seemed hellbent on devouring her mouth as he pried her lips open to slide his tongue in. Her hand wound tighter in his tunic from the intrusion, while his tongue explored the hot caverns of her mouth.

The sweet yet possessive kiss left Vivian breathless, her chest rising and falling to steady her breathing.

When the kiss ended, Ronan’s assault continued down along her jawline, peppering kisses across her neck. Vivian willingly bared her neck to him for better access.

Her hand moved to rest on the back of his neck, her gasps coming out in ragged breaths when his rough, large hand palmed the silken softness of her exposed inner thigh.

"You’re so fucking beautiful like this, little wolf," Ronan complimented, his voice silvery and deep with sincerity. His compliment sounded more like a growl, sending tingling shivers down Vivian’s spine. "You’re going to drive me mad."

Ronan himself couldn’t explain the sudden surge of desire and need that flooded his senses for Vivian. Perhaps it was because he allowed a part of his Lycan to influence his mind; hence, the confined desires sprung to life to take control.

Vivian’s face was flushed, and her lips moistened and swollen. Her back arched when his mouth found the beating pulse point on her neck. He suckled on the point—hard, claiming, rough.

Vivian’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy when his teeth sunk in, branding his mark into her skin. He licked over the bite, adding another wave of shivers over the sting of the mark.

His little wolf hissed pleasurably, her fingernails engraving marks into the back of his neck, where she raked them deeply into the skin.

"I love how you’re scratching me, princess," Ronan commented with a wolvish chuckle, stopping only for a moment to speak. "Such a wild little thing."

Ronan’s hand squeezed the inside of her thigh roughly, his fingers a few inches away from her throbbing core. She was certain his fingers had left bruising marks, but she couldn’t deny the explicit feeling of the sensation.

Her mind clouded over, and her neck was victim to several more bites and marks from Ronan’s mouth, which was determined to mark her in every way conceivable.

"You’re going to be the death of me, princess," Ronan murmured darkly against her throat. "Never let another man touch you ever again, do you understand?"

So that’s what it was.

Jealousy.

Envy.

Envy because Soran had cradled her in his arms when she fell unconscious in the gardens outside the mansion.

Did it really irk Ronan that much that she’d been touched by another man who harboured no romantic intentions towards her?

"Answer me, princess," Ronan’s voice grew more insistent and gruff. Vivian didn’t think much of it because she assumed it was the Lycan himself speaking, unaware that it was Ronan. "Tell me you won’t ever let another man touch you. If you do, I will kill them."

Ronan’s threats were not for show. His words oozed with danger and villainous promise. She could see the grave flash of red in his eyes when he spoke, a clear indication of the torturous things he was capable of.

"I will rip their throat out and leave no flesh on their bones," Ronan expressed morbidly, his jaw twitching with impatience. "We wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?"

Vivian swallowed thickly, not from fear but from processing the fact that the Lycan Alpha before her was hellbent on claiming her as his own.

Now this made her compromising situation more complicated.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

She wasn’t supposed to submit to her instincts and begin to care for him sincerely.

She shouldn’t have cared at all.

And neither should he.

Her heart and mind were one bloody contradiction after another. On one hand, she was obligated to fulfil her duties to Alaric, and on the other hand, she was slowly being swayed by her Alpha.

Vivian could feel herself delving further into a complex hole of no return.

She was playing a dangerous game.

Would it be worth the risk to reveal the truth to Ronan? Should she expose what occurred when she was kidnapped by Estwood Coven’s Wickans and her unbreakable deal with Alaric?

Vivian shook her head.

She wasn’t ready to divulge anything that would end with her niece’s death.

"I will never let another man touch me again," Vivian promised, answering Ronan’s demands. "No one will ever have that right."

"As it should be," Ronan declared, proudly admiring the branding that now decorated Vivian’s neck. "Did I tell you how beautiful you are in this dress?"

Vivian flushed again.

"Thank you—"

"I want to rip it off."