Transmigrated: The Lycan King's Pet-Chapter 133 Morning

My chest rose and fell heavily, anger coursing through my veins as a reflection of me stared back at me angrily.

"Why would you do that... Why did you even do that?" I muttered under my breath, my hands tightening around the edges of the sink.

But Beowulf didn’t reply. I slammed my palm against the counter.

"I said how could you?" My voice cracked.

I didn’t know what this meant. I didn’t want to know. Was it just a bite? A moment of instinct? Or was it something else entirely? My hands curled around the sink again, holding on like it would stop the world from spinning.

Beowulf had never fought me like that before. And he had never tried to take control without warning. He didn’t just want to touch her...He wanted to claim her... he fucking marked her.

But she’s not my mate, she can’t be. Right?

I shook my head, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat from my face. My body was still stilled from what we just did. From the way she looked at me before she passed out, there was no hatred in her eyes. Just... something softer, and that terrified me more than any enemy ever could.

I inhaled sharply, ruffling my hair. I stepped back into the room.

She was still lying unconscious, the sheets tangled around her legs. Her chest rose and fell softly, but the faint flush on her cheeks was already fading. I sat beside her, brushing a hand gently over her hair.

"You’re a mess," I muttered, but my voice came out too gentle and unsure for my liking.

I leaned closer, careful not to startle her. My gaze dropped to the bite mark. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but the area was red and tender. My fingers hovered near it, but I didn’t touch it. I didn’t deserve to.

"I didn’t mean to hurt you," I whispered.

She stirred slightly, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.

I stood unmoving in my spot. My brows narrowed at her sleeping frame. ’If only she hadn’t talked about getting a mate... I wouldn’t have lost control. But what is wrong with me? If Alpha Allison and the elders find out... this could destroy everything I’ve been working on.’

Beowulf remained silent now. And I knew it wasn’t out of guilt, but satisfaction. That made it worse. He’d gotten what he wanted. I had lost control, and she was the one paying for it.

I glanced at her one last time before pulling the blanket over her carefully. Her silver hair spilled across the pillow, her lashes trembling like she was stuck in a dream she couldn’t wake from.

Maybe she’ll hate me when she opens her eyes.

.......

(Ember POV)

My whole body ached. Every bone, every muscle, every inch of me felt like I had been hit by a damn bulldozer. I groaned as I shifted under the covers, the soft fabric brushing against my skin making me wince.

’What the heck... or was it a machine gun?’

I blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the morning light seeping through the curtains. My mind felt heavy, like it was wrapped in fog, but flashes of the night before kept flickering through. The way he touched me. The things he whispered. The way I screamed his name like it was the only word I knew. Just remembering it made my cheeks flush hot.

’Damn, that was the hottest night ever.’

I buried my face into the pillow and let out a small breath.

’What the hell did we do, I can’t even move my ?’

I turned slightly, hoping to stretch out my limbs, but a sharp sting pulsed through my neck, stopping me cold. I whimpered, my fingers flying to the spot.

It burned like something had broken the skin. I traced the area slowly, wincing again. My heart dropped a little as everything came rushing back at once.

His fangs. His silvery eyes. And the growl in his voice when he said his name wasn’t Damon, but Beowulf.

"If a werewolf bites your neck during mating... isn’t that their mark to show others that he had mated? Am I marked?" I whispered to no one.

’Oh no... this is getting out of hand. This could ruin everything for me.’

I turned again, slower this time, and my eyes drifted to the other side of the bed. The sheets were rumpled and still warm, but Damon was nowhere to be seen.

"Did that psycho just bulldoze me and run away?" I muttered under my breath.

I stared at the space for a moment. Part of me had expected him to be there, maybe watching me with that unreadable expression of his. But it was just me alone, in his bed, still sore and still confused about everything that had happened.

I pulled the blanket tighter around me. My body felt used, sore in places I never imagined, but it wasn’t just the physical pain that made my chest heavy. It was the silence and the emptiness.

I can’t believe he left just like that.

I turned my face toward the pillow again, his scent still clinging to it. Musky, warm, a little woodsy. And somehow comforting. I hated how I found comfort in it, hated that a part of me still wanted him to come back.

’What does this even mean?’

’Did he regret it? Was it just sex for him? Or did that bite... mean something more?’

I didn’t know. And honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Tears burned the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away. I refused to cry.

Still... my hand slid up to my neck again, touching the sore spot gently. My heart thudded loudly and unsure.

"Beowulf," I whispered.

I looked down at myself, and that was when I realized I had clothes on. ’Who changed my clothes... I swore I was naked last night.’

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