Stolen by the Beastly Lycan King-Chapter 163: Secret Door

Kai’s screams echoed faintly in the distance, but Lorelai didn’t dare turn around to see how far—or how close—he was. She was certain that if she stopped for even a moment, he would catch up to her, and this time, he wouldn’t let her go so easily.

The acrid smell of burning wood and fabric filled her lungs, clinging to her skin like invisible claws, as though the fire itself was trying to drag her back to the king’s chambers. The stench was overpowering, making it harder to breathe, but still, she didn’t stop.

She had no idea how long she’d been running or if Kai’s voice behind her was real or a figment of her spiraling fear. Her legs moved on instinct, refusing to falter, until she came to an abrupt halt.

A dead end.

She had reached the corner of the annexed building connected to the main palace. Her heart plummeted as the realization hit her—she was trapped.

It was over.

Lorelai’s entire body trembled, the shaking so violent she feared she might shatter like fragile porcelain.

Her knees buckled, and she sank to the cold floor, her hands flying up to cover her face as hot tears streamed down her cheeks, unstoppable and unrelenting.

Suddenly, the piercing barks of hunting dogs shattered the stillness, cutting through the night like a blade. Lorelai froze, terror surging anew in her veins, her breath hitching painfully in her chest.

"What do I do? Oh, goodness, what do I do?" she whispered, her voice cracking as panic clawed at her throat. "I attacked the king! I hurt him! He’ll kill me—he’ll kill me now! What do I do? Oh God, what do I do?"

She begged, pleaded, but the only response was the deafening silence of her own thoughts. Her mind offered no solutions, no solace. For the first time, she found herself longing for the mysterious voice that had guided her before.

"Say something," she muttered desperately to the void. "Anything—please."

’Lorelai.’

As if answering her desperate wish, the mysterious voice spoke again, its tone urgent and commanding.

"Help me! Please... I’m going insane, but I know you will!"

She didn’t know why she believed this strange hallucination might truly save her, but at this point, it was her last lifeline. freёwebnoѵel.com

’Calm down, princess. You have to listen to me carefully.’

The voice was steady, soothing in a way that made her want to trust it. It carried a strange, almost magical authority, and before she realized it, the trembling in her body began to subside. Her breathing steadied, and the chaos in her mind started to quiet.

"Alright," she whispered, "I’ll listen. Please... tell me what to do."

’On your right, there’s a tall picture in a gilded frame. Can you see it?’

Scrambling to her knees, Lorelai turned her head, her fingers trembling as they reached for the cold, ornate edge of the frame.

She nodded frantically, even though she knew the voice couldn’t see her. Her gaze fixed on the portrait of her late father, King Yanis Erelith, standing proudly with his military sword.

The painting was somber, its dark hues broken only by the vivid crimson of his flowing cape—a stark, almost menacing contrast against the muted tones. His green eyes, a trait she had inherited, looked nearly black in the portrait, staring into the void as though seeing nothing at all.

Lorelai swallowed hard, her throat constricting as a sharp knot of emotion rose within her.

The voice spoke again, cutting through her thoughts with the precision of someone who seemed to know exactly what she was doing. It was as if the speaker was watching her from some hidden corner of the hall.

’Take the picture off. It might be heavy, but you have to do it.’

Nodding once more, Lorelai followed the voice’s instructions. She scrambled to her feet, her trembling fingers grasping the edges of the gilded frame. Her breath came in short, desperate gasps as she strained to lift the picture off the hook.

The voice had been right—it was not an easy task. The weight of the frame, combined with her exhaustion from the night’s events, made her arms feel like they might give out at any moment. But despite her fatigue, Lorelai knew she had no other choice. If she wanted to escape Kai’s grasp, she had to succeed.

’You can do it, Lorelai. Don’t give up,’ the voice encouraged her in a gentle tone.

With a final, desperate grunt, the weight of the picture finally relented. Lorelai pulled it free from the hook, but the sudden release sent her stumbling backward. She hit the opposite wall with a hard thud, the force knocking the breath out of her lungs as she instinctively shoved the heavy frame away.

The painting crashed to the floor, its thick canvas ripping down the center and slicing the image of her father in half. The gilded frame, however, remained unscathed.

For a brief moment, Lorelai stared at the fractured portrait, her mind drawing a grim parallel. It was almost symbolic—the life within the royal palace was tearing apart, much like the painting lying in ruins before her.

Her gaze shifted to the now-exposed wall, which had been hidden beneath the weighty frame. And there it was—a concealed door, secreted away behind her father’s image all this time.

’This is a hidden passage,’ the voice explained calmly, though its urgency was unmistakable. ’As you can see, it’s positioned rather high, so you’ll need to summon your strength again. Open the door and climb inside.’

Lorelai’s gaze shifted to the secret door, her stomach sinking. The passage didn’t extend to the floor—it was elevated, the handle just barely within her reach when she stood on her tiptoes. Doubt clouded her mind. Could she even get inside with her limited height and waning strength?

Rivulets of sweat traced paths down her back as she reached for the handle, straining on her toes to grasp it. With a sharp tug, she managed to pull it open. The door swung violently on its hinges, slamming into the wall with a resounding thud.

A small, shaky sigh escaped her lips—half the task was complete. But the hardest part still loomed ahead.

Placing her trembling hands on the base of the passage, Lorelai braced herself. She jumped, trying to pull her weight up, but her arms felt like lead, useless and weak from the night’s ordeal. Over and over, she tried, the sharp sting of failure growing stronger with each desperate attempt.

Her chest heaved with frustration as tears pricked at her eyes. She wanted to scream, to give up, but then the barking of the dogs tore through the air again—louder, closer, more relentless than before.

"No..." she whispered, her voice trembling as her wide, tear-filled eyes darted toward the sound.