Stolen by the Beastly Lycan King-Chapter 118: Don’t Make Me a Murderer

Another violent burst of laughter echoed through the room, loud and thunderous. Delighted, Althea slid the tip of her shoe beneath Lorelai’s chin, lifting it so the princess had no choice but to meet her gaze again.

"See? Replacing your mother with me was the easiest part," the queen taunted, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "I had quite a bit of trouble erasing him..." She stopped abruptly, clearing her throat as if carefully choosing her words. "But don’t you worry. This time, it will be easier. Once I’m done, he won’t trouble you anymore."

Lorelai swallowed hard, the mix of her blood and saliva trickling down her dry throat. With the searing pain ripping through her head, she struggled to make sense of Althea’s words. All she could focus on was the agony that consumed her. She would have done anything for it to stop—she was even ready to beg the queen.

She was ready to die if it meant an end to this suffering.

Althea’s grin widened, and she grabbed the princess by her hair, jerking her back up to her feet despite Lorelai’s struggle with pain. Once Lorelai was standing, the queen slammed her against the wall, pressing a cold black dagger into her trembling fingers, its sharp blade aimed directly at Lorelai’s stomach.

In that moment, as if by some twisted magic, the pain abruptly ceased. Lorelai gasped, sucking in a breath as she fought to steady herself, panting heavily.

She clenched her fists, wincing as the blade’s sharp tip brushed her body, the cold metal finally making her fully aware of the danger she was in. A series of violent shivers coursed through her, while Althea smiled, savoring the princess’ distress.

"Lorelai," she spoke softly, her voice warm, pulling Lorelai’s attention back. "Look at me."

The princess obeyed, her wide green eyes locked onto the queen’s. Althea continued, "Kill the lycan king and bring me his blood."

"...What?"

The queen covered Lorelai’s trembling fists with her own, trapping the dagger inside them. "I need his blood, and you are the one who will bring it to me. No one will know it was you; I will take care of everything. And you... you’ll soon forget him anyway."

"I—I can’t," the princess stammered, her eyes growing wider. "I c-can’t do that..."

"But of course, you can," Althea whispered reassuringly. Lorelai felt the weight of the queen’s words sinking in. Somehow, the longer she looked into Althea’s dark eyes, the more she felt lost in them—two endless voids, pulling her entire being inside.

Suddenly, she no longer needed help to hold the dagger.

Her mind went blank, and her body regained its balance, her heartbeat slow and steady.

Noticing the change, Althea smiled again, releasing Lorelai’s hands. She took a small step back, giving the princess more space. Then, she lifted her hand and cupped Lorelai’s cheek, gently sliding her thumb across her soft skin.

"Good girl," she purred. "As always, you just needed a little push to become obedient. But don’t worry, once I’m done, you won’t need that anymore either."

***

Lorelai had no memory of how she made her way back to her room, but when she finally came to her senses, she found herself sitting on the cold, hard floor. Her back was pressed against the door, and her heavy head rested on her bent knees.

The fingers of her right hand were still tightly clutching the black dagger Althea had given her. The moment she realized what she was holding, she dropped it, quickly pulling her feet away from the blade and drawing them closer to her body.

Kill the lycan king.

The horrific words echoed in her mind again, and a sharp wave of pain shot through her, shaking her to her very core. She had promised she would do it. She had said she would kill Rhaegar—with her own two hands.

How could you say that?

Suddenly, his low, deep voice rang in her mind, twisting her thoughts once more. It was so vivid, so real, that for a moment, she thought he was actually there—standing right beside her in her room.

Startled, she whipped around, her heart pounding in her chest. She half-expected to find him there, but to her great relief, the room was empty. She was alone. Just like she always was.

You will miss me, Lorelai.

Once again, his voice filled her head, loud and clear, tangling her thoughts and emotions even further, like a web she couldn’t escape.

"I won’t," she whispered softly, salty tears rolling down her cheeks.

You will regret it, his voice echoed, and Lorelai’s heart contracted with an unbearable wave of misery.

"I will forget you," she continued, her voice shaking with emotion. "The queen said I already have, so I will again. You don’t belong with me, Rhaegar. You shouldn’t be responsible for my pain. It’s not your job to fix me. But it is my job... to ruin you."

She drew in a shuddering breath, her chest trembling from the force of her sobs. She was crying so violently, so desperately, that she feared she might choke on her own tears.

"So go, King Rhaegar," she whispered again, her words now cracked and desperate. "Leave. As soon as you can. Please... Don’t make me a murderer."

Lorelai...

As his voice called her name, Lorelai completely lost control.

Her trembling hand reached for the dagger, her mind consumed with the desperate urge to drive it into her own chest. She lifted her hand, her fingers curling painfully around the hilt. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t do it.

Althea didn’t want her to die—even if Lorelai did.

Helpless, the princess threw the dagger onto the floor, then collapsed, her body crumpling in defeat as she was swallowed by the weight of her bitter tears.

She wept like a lost, abandoned child—hopeless, helpless, alone.

She cried until her tears ran dry.

She cried until she could no longer hear her name whispered in Rhaegar’s voice, tender and loving.