Stolen by the Beastly Lycan King-Chapter 139: To Last Forever

Gypsies were known for their freedom, unburdened by official bonds or pompous titles. It was rare for them to seek leadership or to assign representatives to speak on their behalf, as their presence was always fleeting, and their place of residence never fixed.

Living without the constraints of conventional society, the nomads fought fiercely to preserve their independence. Traveling across the continent had taught them a harsh lesson about submission—once you bow your head, even once, your neck would forever bear the weight of power’s chains, invisible but suffocating.

The Gypsies were content with their choice to remain leaderless. That is, until a young man named Rhaegar appeared, as if from nowhere. He exuded such an overwhelming aura of strength and power that it was impossible to ignore, let alone control.

The only descendant of their clan’s most powerful witch, Rhaegar had already unlocked his formidable powers.

When he joined his mother’s people during their darkest hours, his natural leadership skills, sharp intellect, and decisiveness quickly earned him the respect and admiration of nearly every member of the tribe.

And yet, there were those who remained silent, their resentment simmering beneath the surface. They despised Rhaegar’s arrogance, his charm, and his ease in commanding attention.

Now, those dissenters had their chance to prove their point—that once you bow your head, the weight of the chains will always pull you down.

***

When the final preparations were complete, the bright orange disc of the setting summer sun hung low in the sky, bathing the entire meadow in its fiery glow.

The reddish hue cast by the sun’s warm rays blended perfectly with the rest of the ceremonial ambiance, enhancing the atmosphere with a touch of magical beauty.

Naveen gently pulled back the curtains that covered the entrance to the princess’s tent and presented Lorelai with a small bouquet of red peonies, elegantly tied together with a green silk ribbon.

The princess accepted the flowers with a radiant smile, her pink lips curling in a way that seemed to light up her entire face.

For the first time in a long while, she radiated a fresh, untouchable beauty—one that had been hidden for far too long beneath the oppressive weight of royal power, which had kept her confined.

Lorelai took a deep, steadying breath, gathering her composure. She then fixed her gaze ahead, feeling a surge of determination as she stepped out of her tent and into the world outside.

The moment her form emerged from the shadows, a quiet chorus of gasps swept through the gathered guests.

Every eye in the ceremony turned to her in awe, and the witnesses admired her astonishing beauty as if they had never seen anything like it. Their eyes sparkled with admiration, captivated by her presence as it seemed to glide across the meadow.

For a brief moment, the princess felt a twinge of discomfort under such intense scrutiny. But as soon as her deep green eyes found Rhaegar standing at the end of the flowery aisle before her, her heart melted.

A sense of relief washed over her, clearing away all the worries that had clouded her mind just moments before.

Was it even possible for him to be more beautiful than he already was?

Lorelai couldn’t help but feel as though Rhaegar’s appearance was constantly shifting, always improving, growing even more captivating with each passing second—his presence, more charming and almost overwhelming than she had ever thought possible.

It must be the power of true love, she thought, her heart responding to the king’s smile with a loud, rhythmic thumping. My heart could never grow tired of his smile. Day after day, I will only fall harder for him.

But suddenly, a sharp contraction gripped her chest, and her face darkened with the sting of pain.

I will forget you, a cold, haunting whisper echoed in her mind, shattering her dreamy mood entirely. This all... will no longer matter to me.

She flinched, her breath catching as she realized that Rhaegar’s expression had shifted. A shadow of bitter pain flickered in his amber eyes, and Lorelai’s heart sank with regret.

He must have thought she was having second thoughts, that she was about to call off the wedding—something she never wanted to do. The last thing she wanted was for him to think that.

With a deep, steadying breath, Lorelai forced a smile onto her lips, her body betraying no sign of the turmoil inside. She commanded herself to move, and, thankfully, it obeyed.

Taking slow, deliberate steps toward her future husband, she tightened her grip around the flowers in her hands. She focused on the beauty of the moment, her mind drifting to the stunning sight of Rhaegar as she tried to distract herself from the storm inside her chest.

Tall and tanned, his bronzed skin now appeared even darker as the fiery glow of the setting sun bathed him in its warm embrace.

His usually unruly curls were gathered neatly behind his neck, tied loosely with a black ribbon, creating an elegant frame for his striking, angular face.

His amber eyes glowed with an unmistakable impatience, reflecting the bright sunlight with an added hint of orange. If Lorelai allowed her eyes to unfocus, she could almost swear that his eyes looked like they contained little fires burning within them—each flicker of light a reflection of his intensity.

Rhaegar’s attire was just as stunning as his presence. Though simple in design, it fit his body perfectly, highlighting the best features of his muscular frame.

The black, fitted pants outlined the hard muscles of his legs, and the high waist encircled his torso beautifully, accentuating the subtle dips on either side of his stomach. The contrast between his broad shoulders and his trim waist was striking, a balance of strength and elegance that made him seem even more imposing.

The silk shirt, dyed black, shimmered subtly in the fading light, while intricate golden embroidery stretched across his chest, forming magical, almost otherworldly patterns.

The golden ornaments were so close together that they gave the appearance of armor—two gilded chest plates, protecting his heart from being claimed by his future wife.

Draped across his shoulders was a long cape, its deep, dark red hue almost imperceptible, save for the faint crimson undertone that the setting sun barely revealed. The fabric flowed with his every movement, a perfect complement to his regal appearance.

As Lorelai continued her slow, deliberate approach, time seemed to stretch and warp. It felt as if the entire world had paused, holding its breath in anticipation of the moment when two lovers would reunite under the towering altar, adorned with flowers and gold.

Deep inside, the princess didn’t want this moment to end. Every step she took toward Rhaegar felt like an eternity, and something about the stillness made her reluctant to reach him. She knew that once she did, the enchantment of this moment would fade.

Yet, no matter how irrational it seemed, she found herself wishing that this fluttering happiness could last forever.

The overwhelming sensation of drowning in Rhaegar’s presence. The intoxicating happiness that threatened to tear her heart apart with every beat. She would cherish it all.

"Lorelai."

At last, the king’s voice broke through her thoughts, ringing painfully close to her ears. The princess snapped out of her musings, her heart fluttering in response.

There he stood, her king, her mate, with his hand outstretched, waiting patiently for her to take it.