Stolen by the Beastly Lycan King-Chapter 174: Come With Me

Rhaegar clutched the stolen knife tightly in his trembling hand, his knuckles pale against the blade’s hilt. The cool night air bit at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the heavy weight of regret pressing down on him. Every step he took through the royal palace’s shadowed grounds felt like dragging an anchor.

Pausing to catch his breath, he turned and glanced back, his sharp eyes scanning his surroundings.

The slave quarters weren’t far from the main palace. Their proximity to the grandeur of royalty made no sense to him, but it had proven useful for navigation. The layout of the land was straightforward, almost as if it had been designed to be easily memorized.

Why would they do that? Rhaegar wondered, his brows furrowed. Whoever had planned this arrangement had to have had a reason—a sinister one, no doubt.

No. Focus. This isn’t the time for useless thoughts.

Shaking his head, Rhaegar pressed on, his feet moving swiftly but silently. His instincts pulled him toward the garden next to one of the annexed buildings. The air here was different—fresher, less suffocating—and the soft spring grass beneath his feet felt like a brief reprieve from the unrelenting tension in his body.

Collapsing onto the grass, he allowed himself a fleeting moment of rest. The exhaustion in his limbs warred with the exhilaration buzzing in his chest. It was almost surreal—this mix of fear, hope, and dread. In just one night, he felt as though he had aged years.

But his reprieve was short-lived.

A faint rustle broke the stillness, the sound barely louder than a whisper. It was enough. Rhaegar’s senses flared, his body snapping to attention like a bowstring drawn taut.

In one swift motion, he was on his feet, knife raised in front of him. The blade glinted under the pale moonlight, trembling ever so slightly in his unsteady grip.

His heart thundered in his chest as he strained his ears, his eyes darting toward the source of the sound. His mind raced with possibilities—had someone tracked him here? Was it one of the guards? Or worse, a hunter sent to drag him back to the pit?

Whoever it was, Rhaegar wasn’t going down without a fight.

The rustling grew louder, each sound tightening the vice around Rhaegar’s chest. His heart pounded furiously, threatening to leap out of his ribcage and explode. His pulse throbbed in his ears, a deafening drumbeat that drowned out the quiet of the garden. He tensed, ready to spring at whoever—or whatever—was approaching.

But then he froze, his muscles locking as if turned to stone. His glowing amber eyes widened in shock, the knife trembling in his grip.

A girl...?

Emerging from the flower bushes was a petite girl with long, flowing blonde hair and striking green eyes. The moonlight danced on her pale skin, making it shimmer faintly as if dusted with glitter.

She looked so delicate, so impossibly ethereal, that she didn’t even seem real. More like a fairy or an angel than a human being.

If I touch her, he wondered, will she crumble and vanish like a dream?

The girl seemed just as startled as he was. Her wide green eyes grew impossibly larger, her lips parting in a soft gasp. Instinctively, she raised a small hand to cover her mouth, though her gaze remained locked on him—curious, unblinking, and unafraid.

Rhaegar swallowed hard, his voice catching in his throat before he managed to stammer out, "Who are you?"

The girl didn’t respond immediately. She lowered her hand slowly, tilting her head in mild confusion as though his simple question baffled her.

Her perfectly arched brow rose slightly before she replied, her voice steady and calm, "I’m the one who should be asking that. This is my quarters, my garden. What are you doing here?"

Her tone was soft and gentle, yet there was a quiet strength in her words that unsettled him.

"Your quarters?" he repeated absentmindedly, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Are you from the royal family?"

"I am the first princess of Erelith," the girl replied confidently, without a hint of hesitation. "My name is Lorelai."

She stepped closer, her gaze narrowing as she examined him more closely. "Goodness!" Her expression shifted abruptly, her calm demeanor giving way to shock. Her voice quivered ever so slightly as she exclaimed, "You’re one of them! It was you! They are looking for you"

She gasped, her hand darting out to point toward the slave quarters, where the chaos caused by Tayiid had already spiraled out of control.

Rhaegar’s throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, the weight of the situation crashing down on him. His grip around the knife in his hand instinctively tightened.

If this girl truly was the royal princess, then she wasn’t just a stranger in his path—she was his enemy. An enemy who could summon the guards with a single word and shatter any chance he had at escaping.

"Leave," he commanded sharply, his voice cutting through the tense silence like a blade. His tone was rough, each word laced with menace. "Leave, or I’ll kill you!"

And yet, once again, the girl defied his expectations. Instead of recoiling in fear or fleeing for her life, she surprised him. Her expression calmed, her brow furrowed slightly in irritation, and she set her small fists on her hips as if scolding a disobedient child.

"Sure, go ahead!" she snapped back. "But the knights will find you anyway, and then your escape will be impossible!"

Rhaegar froze, momentarily stunned by her audacity. She wasn’t wrong—there were guards stationed all over the royal palace, and it was only a matter of time before they caught wind of his escape. His mind raced, weighing his dwindling options.

What other choice did he have? Whether the girl lived or died, the outcome seemed inevitable. Yet, a grim thought took hold in his mind: at least if she were gone, he might have a few more moments of freedom.

"Tsk." The little princess clicked her tongue, her expression equal parts exasperation and condescension. "You were strong enough to escape, but too stupid to think it through, huh? And here I thought you beasts were supposed to be far greater than humans..."

There was a strange hint of disappointment in her tone that made Rhaegar’s heart sink. He felt a childish urge to defend himself, to conjure up some excuse for his shortsightedness, but his mind went utterly blank under her piercing, yet oddly warm, gaze.

What was his plan? He asked himself the question bitterly. To run and hide until he reached the border? Was there even another option for him?

The girl let out a long, disapproving sigh and shook her head. Before Rhaegar could react, she reached out and grabbed his wrist, ignoring the sharp blade still clutched in his hand.

Her green eyes locked with his, a faint, arrogant smirk curling her lips. "Come with me," she said firmly. "I will help you escape."