Rewriting Her Destiny With The Lycan Kings-Chapter 41: Devonte, Are you Jealous?

"Jennifer!" Zara called out, her voice carrying a hint of surprise.

Jennifer turned, her demeanor unusually calm. "Can you spare a moment? I’d like to have a word with you," she said, her tone polite. so unlike her usual self. It was almost as if she were a completely different person.

"Sure... Go ahead," Zara replied, her words laced with skepticism. She studied Jennifer carefully, barely hiding her shock. The woman before her bore little resemblance to the Jennifer she had seen a few days ago. Jennifer had lost noticeable weight, her face hollowed and pale, her appearance frail yet oddly resolute.

Jennifer took a deep breath and began. "First of all, I want to apologize for all the trouble I’ve caused you. I deeply regret my actions."

Zara blinked, utterly taken aback. "Trouble? Are you talking about the rogue you summoned to kill me? Or maybe all the other chaos you unleashed?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. It was hard to wrap her mind around this sudden apology. especially from Jennifer. It felt impossible.

Jennifer lowered her head, her expression clouded with guilt. "I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness," she said quietly. "I tried to kill you, and despite that, you didn’t expose me to the brothers. If you hadn’t saved me, I’d already be six feet under." Her voice trembled, and a sheen of tears glistened in her eyes.

She raised her gaze and added with a surprising sincerity, "But I truly want to make amends. Please, Zara, give me a chance to prove myself. Let me show you how sorry I am."

Her words were humble, almost pleading, leaving Zara more stunned than ever. Jennifer’s sudden transformation reeked of ulterior motives. But Zara decided to play along. for now.

"Fine, Jennifer," Zara said, her tone measured. "People make mistakes, and sometimes, it’s better to move past them. I accept your apology."

Jennifer’s face lit up instantly, her relief palpable. "Thank you, Zara. Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me. I promise I won’t let you down," she said fervently, gripping Zara’s hand.

Zara forced a smile, but her unease grew. The air around Jennifer felt heavy, almost oppressive, and Zara couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Jennifer released her hand and smiled brightly. "As a token of my apology, I’ve planned a little surprise for you tomorrow at midnight. Meet me at the entrance gate. I promise you’ll like it."

Without waiting for a response, Jennifer spun around and walked away, her cheerful demeanor unnervingly out of place.

Zara watched her retreating figure, her expression deadpan. "Does she really think I’m that gullible?" she muttered under her breath. With a sigh, she glanced down at her hand where Jennifer had gripped it. A faint smudge of something dark and powdery caught her attention.

"What’s this?" Zara whispered, squinting at the barely visible mark. It looked like some sort of residue. light enough to miss if she hadn’t noticed it right away. She rubbed it off absentmindedly, shaking her head.

Shrugging it off, Zara turned and walked away, her mind already calculating what Jennifer’s next move could be. Unknowingly failed to be aware of the upcoming Chao.

•••

The moon hung low in the sky, veiled by a faint layer of clouds, casting a soft glow over the Shadowvale castle. Zara strolled back toward her chamber after spending time chatting with the caretakers scattered around the vast halls.

Their laughter and warm conversations lingered in her heart, a small comfort in this unfamiliar world. Over the past weeks, she had slowly won over most of them with her kindness, her ability to remember their names, and the genuine concern she showed for their lives.

Though some still doubted her place as their rightful Luna, Zara was undeniably becoming a beloved figure among the castle staff. She felt it in the way their smiles lingered when they spoke to her, in the way they eagerly shared snippets of their day. It was a rare warmth in a world that often felt cold and distant.

As she approached the grand entrance to the castle, her steps faltered. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a solitary figure standing in the dimly lit backyard. Her heart skipped a beat as recognition settled in.

It was Devonte.

He stood with his back to her, his shoulders rigid yet somehow heavy with an unspoken burden. The faint breeze tugged at his dark locks, and the faint glow of the night painted his sharp features in a divine light. He looked otherworldly yet heartbreakingly human.

Zara’s heart ached at the sight of him. He seemed so... lonely. Since their unexpected encounter in the library, he had kept his distance. Avoidance had become his shield, and it hurt more than Zara cared to admit.

She didn’t realize her legs were moving until she found herself walking toward him, the soft crunch of her steps muffled by the grass beneath her feet. Stopping a few steps behind him, she hesitated, her lips parting as she gently called out his name.

"Devonte."

The sound of her voice broke through the quiet night, making him jerk slightly in surprise. He turned sharply, his Emarald eyes locking onto hers. For a moment, they flickered with something unspoken. surprise, curiosity, maybe even relief. but the emotion quickly faded, replaced by a neutral expression.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice steady yet carrying a faint edge. "You should be in your room by now."

Zara ignored the question, her gaze softening as she stepped closer. "What’s wrong?" she asked, her tone gentle, tinged with concern.

Devonte stiffened, his posture becoming guarded. He averted his eyes, turning his back to her again. "It’s nothing," he said curtly, his voice colder than he intended.

But Zara wasn’t one to be brushed off so easily. She took another step forward, undeterred by his attempt to push her away. "Don’t lie to me," she said softly, her voice unwavering. "You’ve been distant since the library. I can see it... are you angry with me as well?."

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the only sound was the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. Devonte’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He didn’t turn to face her, his shoulders trembling slightly as if he was holding something back.

"I’m not. It’s nothing you need to worry about," he said, his voice quieter this time, almost vulnerable.

Zara stepped closer, now standing just behind him, her presence warm and grounding. She hesitated for a moment before reaching out, her smaller hand gently brushing against his. His larger, calloused hand could have easily enveloped hers, but he let her touch linger, her fingers grazing the veins on the back of his palm.

"What’s happening, Devonte?" she asked softly, her voice steady but filled with concern. "Why are you being so distant? Did I hurt you somehow?"

Her gentle words made something inside him waver, but he stayed silent, his gaze fixed on their hands. Zara’s fingers trailed lightly over his, an unspoken attempt to soothe the tension between them.

"Are you still upset about what happened with Denzal?" she asked cautiously, her tone apologetic. "You know it wasn’t planned. It just... happened."

Devonte let out a long sigh, his jaw tightening. "That’s what he says too," he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with bitterness. His eyes stayed locked on their hands, the sight of her touch both comforting and torturous.

Zara tilted her head, trying to read the emotions flickering across his face. "I really didn’t know you two had some sort of agreement. If I had, trust me, I wouldn’t have let that happen," she said earnestly, her thumb tracing small circles on the back of his hand.

Devonte’s lips pressed into a thin line, his silence stretching uncomfortably. Finally, he spoke, his words low and strained. "It’s not about agreements or rules, Zara."

"Then what is it about?" she pressed gently, her brows furrowing.

He exhaled sharply, his hand twitching slightly under hers. "It’s about you," he admitted, his voice dropping even lower.

Zara blinked, confusion evident in her gaze. "What about me?"

His amber eyes lifted to hers, and for a moment, she saw vulnerability there. a crack in the stoic mask he always wore. "You and Denzal," he said finally, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "It feels like you’re closer to him... like you trust him more than you trust me."

Her brows knitted further as realization dawned. "Wait," she said, her voice soft yet laced with surprise. "Are you jealous, Devonte?"

His lips parted to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he turned his gaze away, his shoulders tense.

"You are," Zara whispered, a mixture of disbelief and something softer curling in her chest. "You’re jealous."

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "I’ve always felt like you prefer him over me," he confessed, his tone raw. "It’s like... you laugh more around him, you seem more comfortable with him. And it—" He paused, struggling with the weight of his emotions. "It makes me feel like I’m not enough. Like he’s the one you’d choose, not me."

Zara’s heart twisted at his words. For a moment, she was silent, her gaze never leaving him. Then, with a firm but gentle motion, she stepped closer, her free hand lifting to rest against his chest.

"Devonte," she said softly, her voice steady but carrying an undeniable warmth. "You are enough. More than enough. I never meant to make you feel like this, and if I did, I’m sorry. But you need to know—Denzal is Denzal, and you’re... you. And you mean more to me than I can even put into words."

He looked at her then, his eyes searching hers as though trying to find the truth in her words. "Do you mean that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled softly, her hand pressing lightly against his chest where she could feel the steady rhythm of his heart. "I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t."

Devonte’s gaze softened at her words, her sincerity wrapping around the insecurities he tried so hard to hide. But even as he felt the warmth of her reassurance, a part of him still clung to the doubts that had been festering for so long.

He averted his eyes, his jaw tightening as he struggled to find the right words. "I want to believe you," he said finally, his voice low and almost pained. "But..."

"But you’re still unsure," Zara finished for him, her tone gentle and understanding.

Zara studied him, her heart aching at the way he seemed to wrestle with himself. She stepped closer, her hand still resting on his chest, her touch steady and grounding. "Then tell me," she said softly. "What would make you believe me? What can I do to prove it to you?"

She asked him with a gentle tone, taking him by surprise. He didn’t expect she would ask something like this. His eyes began to twinkle for some reason.

Then suddenly Zara realized what would make him believe her. She passed a soft smile at him. "I know how to make you believe me."

He got curious at her words. But soon the curious eyes turned dark as he saw her hands begin to unbutton her gown.