Stolen by the Beastly Lycan King-Chapter 142: The Cave

Somehow, the king’s voice sounded different tonight—both more relaxed and more intense, as though each word carried a bittersweet weight, heavy with suppressed longing.

Lorelai realized it was likely the strain of restraint affecting him. Desire and lust surged within him, threatening to consume him whole, yet he was forced to temper those feelings, to endure the inferno burning him from within.

Her heart twisted painfully, a pang of empathy mingling with something bordering on sorrow. She had believed she would be the one suffering tonight, vulnerable and unsure.

But now, seeing him like this, she understood that they were both fighting their own battles, even on what was supposed to be a joyous occasion.

Standing before the kneeling Rhaegar, she noticed how the power dynamic had shifted. Shackled and bowed, he appeared vulnerable—his raw strength muted but not diminished. For the first time, she stood just a little taller than him, and the sight struck a chord deep within her.

Naveen’s words echoed in her mind: Follow your instincts. Take the lead.

Steeling herself, Lorelai bent forward slowly, her heart pounding as her lips drew closer to his.

Rhaegar’s head tilted slightly, his glowing amber eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch. Hunger burned within his gaze, a silent plea that she couldn’t ignore.

Tentatively, she pressed her soft lips against his, offering him a gentle, testing kiss. For a moment, Rhaegar accepted it with surprising caution, but it didn’t last.

The restraint snapped like a taut string. His lips claimed hers greedily, drawing her into a short but searing kiss that left her trembling.

"Ah..."

A soft moan escaped her as she felt the raw passion behind his touch.

Yet his shackles prevented him from doing more, and she could sense his frustration in the way his lips parted, revealing teeth clenched in discontent. Unable to act further, he rested his head against her neck, exhaling deeply.

The scent of plum wine lingered between them, rich and intoxicating, mingling with their shared heat. Its sweetness was unmistakable, a reminder of the feast they had both indulged in earlier. But now, in the intimate shadows of the cave, that sweetness only amplified the tension coiling between them.

"It seems we’ve both had a bit too much to drink. Were you that nervous?" Rhaegar asked, his voice warm and teasing as Lorelai gently cupped his face with her hands.

"I guess..." Lorelai sighed deeply, and the king rewarded her with a soft, supportive smile.

"It’s quite unusual for me to feel drunk," Rhaegar confessed, his lips curling into a smirk. "I usually need to down an entire barrel of wine before I notice anything."

His playful remark drew a small laugh from Lorelai, and for a moment, she felt as though his cheerful energy had been passed on to her, lightening her nerves.

She had noticed it before—no matter how much the beasts drank, they rarely showed signs of intoxication. Unlike the nobles of Erelith, who often staggered out of banquets in varying states of disarray, the beasts always left steady on their feet, their pride intact.

Curious, Lorelai tightened her grip on his face and studied him closely. His amber eyes were sharp and clear, not at all clouded, yet his relaxed expression betrayed the unnatural haze of inebriation. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Her thoughts were cut short as Rhaegar leaned toward her, breaking her focus with a sly grin.

"Don’t look at me like that, princess. Just kiss me again."

Lorelai’s lips quirked into a mischievous grin of her own. She shook her head playfully. "You can’t call me princess anymore. I am your queen now."

Before he could respond, she closed the distance between them, capturing his lips in a deep, fervent kiss. His restraint only heightened the tension, his shackled hands clinking softly as they moved in vain.

"Rhaegar, wait..." Lorelai’s breath caught as her eyes fell on the thick metal shackles binding his wrists. She looked closer, her fingers lightly grazing the cold steel. "Does it hurt? Should we take them off?"

Her mouth parted as she scanned the bindings, doubt clouding her expression. Was all of this really necessary? The harsh metal must have been biting into his skin, and the thought of him enduring unnecessary pain filled her with unease.

Rhaegar, however, only chuckled softly. He didn’t have the heart to tell his queen that the restraints were nothing more than toys to him—simple props to create the illusion of vulnerability.

He had allowed himself to be bound solely to give Lorelai the reassurance she needed, a sense of safety in an otherwise intense moment.

Shaking his head lightly, as if dismissing her concerns, Rhaegar licked his lips and fixed his glowing amber eyes on her.

"The dress suits you really well, my queen," he murmured, his voice low and velvety. "I want to see you wear red even more."

Lorelai felt her cheeks flush with warmth. "Isn’t red a ceremonial color?" she asked, her tone a little shy now. "Naveen said it’s only worn for weddings and... official mating rituals."

Rhaegar’s smirk deepened, his sharp features softening with amusement. "Not only clothes can be red, my queen," he teased, his voice dipping suggestively.

"You...!" Lorelai’s face turned crimson, and she immediately regretted it, wishing for some magic spell to drain the color from her cheeks. She couldn’t bear the intensity of his gaze, those amber eyes alight with mischief and desire.

Frustrated and flustered, she reached up, pulling loose the wide black ribbon that tied his hair neatly behind his neck.

With a boldness that surprised even herself, she used the ribbon to cover his eyes, tying it securely to shield herself from his unrelenting stare.

"There," she declared in a triumphant tone.

Rhaegar’s lips quirked into a sly smile. "A futile attempt, but sure," he said, his voice softer now, tinged with affection. "Though you should know, my queen... this will only entice me even more."

Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson at his words. Determined to distract him from speaking in such a provocative manner, Lorelai wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, feeling his tense body relax slightly as he exhaled a long, restrained sigh.

The moonlight streaming through the cave’s entrance seemed to grow brighter, casting a silvery glow on the scene before her.

The memory of the night he had returned from the arena—the night he shifted back from his wolf form—flashed vividly in her mind. That night had been an overwhelming blur of passion, one that left her simultaneously breathless and bashful to recall.

Yet tonight, Rhaegar seemed even more aroused, his desire radiating off him in waves.

Her gaze lowered instinctively, falling to the prominent bulge straining against the fabric of his fitted pants. The sheer sight of his arousal made her pulse quicken, and she felt a surge of empathy.

It must be painful for him, she thought, her heart twisting at his obvious restraint. For his sake, she knew she had to act.