The Mind-Reading Mate: Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me?!-Chapter 157: Wife, Please Kill Me!

Primrose slowly reached for Raven’s hands and gently wrapped hers around them.

"If you keep sacrificing yourself like this," she said softly, "someday ... your children might end up blaming themselves. They might think they failed you because they couldn’t protect you."

She wasn’t sure what had happened to Raven’s children after she was imprisoned in the dungeon.

In truth, Primrose didn’t even know if Raven had been sentenced to death or not.

Because in that timeline ... Primrose had died before Raven’s fate was decided.

Still, knowing Raven’s nature, it was hard to imagine her ever letting her children be dragged into her downfall.

"Did you turn down my offer because you saw a future where all of this ... was the only way to keep them safe?" Primrose asked gently.

Raven nodded. "My visions have never been wrong," she whispered. "That’s why I have to follow them."

"But ... what if your future isn’t fixed?" Primrose tilted her head, watching her closely. "What if it’s already started to change? Maybe you should look again."

After all, this version of Primrose, one who had returned from death, wasn’t supposed to exist.

She was already a ripple in fate.

Since returning to the past, she had made so many different choices, rewriting her own story one step at a time.

So ... wasn’t it possible that Raven’s fate had shifted too?

"That’s not how it works, Your Majesty," Raven said calmly but firmly. "What I see in my visions ... never changes."

Primrose leaned in just a little closer. "Lady Raven," she said softly, "in those visions of yours, did you ever see me standing here, offering you a way out?"

Raven froze. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

She stood there quietly, thinking. And after a long pause ... realization struck her.

Primrose was right.

She wasn’t supposed to be part of her fate.

They weren’t meant to cross paths, not at the tea party, not here in Moonshadow.

[Why didn’t I notice this before?] Raven wondered. [Why did I even go to that tea party?]

She wasn’t the type to accept social invitations, especially not to royal events.

In Primrose’s first life, Raven had never even stepped foot in the queen’s greenhouse, let alone spoken with her.

But the moment Raven saw that invitation in this timeline, something pulled her in, like she was being drawn into something she didn’t fully understand.

At first, she thought it was curiosity.

Then she blamed it on hunger, telling herself she only went because there might be food at the queen’s tea party.

But deep down ... it wasn’t about food, or curiosity, or politeness.

It felt like fate had silently shifted beneath her feet.

Like something or someone was calling her to step off the path she thought she had to follow.

"I ... I need time," Raven said at last, closing her eyes for a moment. She gently pulled her hands away from Primrose’s. "If I’m going to look the vision again, I’ll need to prepare a ritual."

Primrose’s lips curved into a small smile. She was relieved that at least Raven was open to reconsidering her path.

"How much time do you need? I’ll wait," Primrose said eagerly. "Do you need help? I’d be happy to assist. What do you need? Blood? A corpse? Maybe ... maybe my husband can find something for you."

Although ... if Raven asked for a baby’s blood, she wasn’t sure she’d be willing to go that far.

There were lines Primrose would never cross.

"No ... nothing like that," Raven said quickly, stepping back as Primrose got a little too close. "Just give me two days. That’s all I need to open my vision again."

Primrose let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness Raven didn’t need anything horrifying like blood or a corpse.

Maybe, because the ability was a natural gift, her visions didn’t need dark sacrifices to awaken.

"Alright, two days then," Primrose said, beaming. "I’ll wait for your answer. I’ll be in Moonshadow for about a week, so take your time."

Raven blinked, then asked suddenly, "Are you here on a honeymoon? Won’t I be disturbing you?"

Primrose sighed, and her smile turned a little awkward.

"Not that kind of honeymoon," she muttered. "We’re just ... taking a vacation. That’s all."

Honestly, she was growing tired of explaining this every time someone brought up the word honeymoon.

Thankfully, Raven didn’t press further, not even in her thoughts.

"I understand," she said simply.

Then, after a pause, her voice grew softer. "Your Majesty, may I ask one more thing?"

Primrose nodded gently. "Of course."

"If you see Salem," Raven said, lifting her eyes to meet hers, "please tell him ... I never regretted my decision."

"All the pain I’m going through now ... I chose it. And because I chose it, I’m willing to accept the consequences."

Primrose’s heart ached as she looked at her.

Raven wasn’t a victim trying to be saved.

She was a woman standing firmly in the fire, fully aware of the flames.

And still choosing to burn.

"I’ll tell him," she promised. "I’ll also let him know that you never hated him ... and that you’ve been hoping to hear from him."

Raven was about to say that Primrose didn’t need to go that far, but in the end, no words came out of her mouth.

Because truthfully, somewhere deep inside, she did hope that Salem could understand how she felt now.

"Please take care of yourself, Lady Raven," Primrose said softly as she slipped something into her hand, a small vial filled with red liquid. "Salem asked me to give this to you."

Raven looked down, her fingers tightening slightly around the vial. "What is it?" she asked confusedly.

Primrose gave her a faint, almost bitter smile. "A medicine to help heal your wounds. It won’t work instantly, but in a day or so, the bruises and deeper wounds should start to fade."

She paused, then added, "It’s not much ... but it’s better than nothing."

Raven held the vial gently, like it was something far too fragile, too precious for someone like her to accept.

She stared at it for a long moment before whispering, "He’s always like this ..."

Then she looked at Primrose and said quietly, "Please tell him ... thank you, for this precious gift."

Primrose simply nodded and offered a warm smile in response.

After gently patting Raven’s shoulder to offer a bit of comfort, she motioned for them to leave the dusty old room.

She still hadn’t seen Raven’s full face, hidden behind the veil, but perhaps it was better that way.

Because if she had seen all the bruises clearly, she might’ve walked straight to the Marquess and poured poison into his mouth herself.

"No one came near here, right?" she asked as soon as she made eye contact with Callen outside the room.

Callen answered firmly, "No, Your Majesty. No one approached this place, not even within a few meters of it."

[Good thing my senses are sharp,] he thought, [so I was able to carry out Her Majesty’s request properly.]

Oh, Primrose just remembered something.

She still hadn’t asked what kind of beast Callen actually was.

Since he had never mentioned his beast form, not even in his thoughts, Primrose knew she’d have to ask him directly if she wanted to find out.

After they returned from the Marquess’ manor, she promised herself she would ask Callen about that one crucial thing.

"I think His Majesty has finished speaking with the Marquess," Callen said suddenly.

He shifted his gaze to the side, tilting his head slightly, almost like he was sharpening his sense of hearing.

That movement ... that behavior ...

Didn’t it look like a cat?

Wait—was he ... a cat?

"Shall we return now, Your Majesty?" Callen asked politely.

Primrose took a deep breath before nodding. She would ask about that matter later because she didn’t want to stay in this place any longer.

It had drained her energy far too quickly.

Right now, all she wanted was to see her husband, to find a bit of peace and warmth after spending so much time surrounded by the Marquess’ filthy thoughts.

As they stepped out into the open hallway, Primrose spotted Edmund approaching from the opposite direction.

Their eyes met for a brief second, just long enough for him to feel something squeeze painfully in his chest.

[My wife looks so tired.]

[And ... was that dust on her cheek?]

[Why does she have dust on her face?] he thought, his brows twitching with concern. [Where did she go? What happened while I was gone?]

But he couldn’t ask. Not here.

They were still in the middle of their act, and so, Edmund did the unthinkable.

He narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"You look like a mess," he said coldly, his voice filled with feigned irritation. "Wipe your face, will you?"

Primrose’s smile didn’t falter. She gave him the tiniest nod, her way of saying, I understand.

Edmund turned away from her almost immediately, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her. But the truth was far from it.

Every step he took beside her felt like he was swallowing knives.

[WIFE, PLEASE JUST KILL ME NOW!]