Leah pursed her lips and glared.
"So we can fuck with nothing in between." Holding her neck, Damon's tongue traced her neckline. The touch sent shivers down her spine.
Unlike werewolves, Lycan's fated mates were almost a myth. No one had found their mates in the last centuries; people blamed the casualties in the 100-year war that killed half the lycans population.
Once marked, Lycans' lives are bound; if one dies, the other soon followed so most Lycans don't mark their spouses.
In her past life, after being confused by Clara, she announced that Damon was his mate, further making a fool out of herself.
Caught off guard, she started struggling. "Damon, we are already done. You can no longer touch me!"
Damon paused, puzzled, his blue eyes darkening.
She was already done with him?
They had only been married yesterday, but this woman was already done with him? Was she playing hard to get?
"Let me go!" Not noticing his darkening mood, Leah struggled with all she had. "Don't touch me with that disgusting body…"
Just thinking of the man who had been with Clara made her feel disgusted.
He looked ready to snap when a knock stopped them both in their tracks.
"Your Highness, the Luna Queen is asking if you will be joining the traditional hunt?"
Feeling his hold loosen, Leah quickly pushed him away, wrapping herself in the blanket. Damon turned around, amused at Leah hiding under it. What was her deal?
"I will."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Today was not only the first day of her marriage to Damon, but the day for the traditional hunt that was held after a royal marriage where the new spouse would run with the Royal and Allied packs to create a bond.
To their horror, there was no official hunt held in Leah's honor since she couldn't shift at all. Men had still decided to run, but women were forced to hold an informal court gathering instead.
It was one of the reasons they never really considered her part of the pack. Leah had always felt guilty about it, but this time, Leah decided not to care.
She could never be a part of this Pack.
Once silence fell, she peeked out and immediately blushed.
Against the pale morning light, his bare skin looked like molten gold. With broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and—
Leah ducked instantly, covering her face in embarrassment. She heard the bathroom door shut, but then she frowned.
Her face was smooth, and she couldn't feel the scar that ran diagonally across it. In addition, thinking back, the room was decorated in white and red like a honeymoon suite.
Shocked, Leah sat up, and her eyes fell on the red patch on the sheets.
A bloodstain.
Her heart suddenly started racing with a crazy thought as she began looking for her phone. Her eyes widened at the phone on the headboard.
It was her old phone.
The date was from five years ago — the day after she got married.
Leah's breath quickened. She ran to the floor-length mirror, clutching the blanket. She blinked several times and saw both her blue eyes were fine!
"What the hell…"
She touched her reflection in disbelief. She looked the way she had at twenty years old. Her eyes were wide, and her brows were perfect. Everything about her heart-shaped face was attractive.
After her face was ruined, she had started avoiding mirrors.
Her eyes fell on the room. Everything here had been decorated by Clara.
The moment her marriage to Prince Damon Varkos had been decided, Clara had been the only one to welcome her with open arms.
Like a fool, she trusted her and did everything she told her.
Even the snacks and drinks on her wedding night were prepared by her — and then she framed her.
When Leah thought of her past, she felt immense anger.
She had often wondered what she would do if she could go back, but she had never expected this day to actually come.
Leah chuckled, and it turned into laughter until tears blurred her vision as she slumped to the floor.
She was reborn. How crazy was that?
In her last lifetime, she had loved Damon. To stand by his side, she had studied court etiquette, foreign languages, history, politics, finance, literature, the arts — everything — and even bruised her fingers training in music she had no talent for.
This time, she would live for herself — but not before paying back everyone who had tormented her. She would leave this piece of ice, but not before making sure Clara could never have him.
She smiled, but soon it soured.
She remembered the spiked drink and quickly started looking for the wolfsbane bottle Clara had pulled out from under the bed.
Quickly getting up, she looked under the bed and found the glass bottle. It strongly smelled of fading perfume. No wonder Damon didn't smell it last night.
Frantically, she opened the window and threw the plastic bottle as far as she could into the thick forest bushes.
It wouldn't matter how well she hid it. As a full-blown lycan, Clara could smell it. And as the effect was fading, his senses would be returning to normal, too.
She turns around only to stumble into the snack table, knocking half of it over on the thick carpet. She's about topick them when the bathroom door opened.
Out in his robe, her throat tightened as she looked at him. Over six feet tall, he was all muscle and arrogance. His curly blonde hair was still dripping, his eyes fixed on her bare skin.
Startled, she hurriedly turned around, putting a grape in her mouth.
Barely clutching a flimsy sheet to her chest, the tender skin of her bare back, marked with his blooming bites, looked like an enticing invitation.
Her moans and the way she had breathlessly clung to him last night flashed through his mind.
Her breath hitched as she felt him behind her. His hand stretched toward the snack table. She didn't dare move.
"What…"
Before she could say anything, another grape was pushed between her lips. She unconsciously parted them.
The door was knocked on again, and Leah swallowed her words.
Damon turned his eyes away from her, his voice strained. "Put something on."
Knock, knock!
"Daye, are you up?"
Clara!
Leah turned to him with an accusatory glare. Damon glared back.
'Daye' was his nickname — one she had never used in her past life. His childhood sweetheart was just too comfortable.
"Daye?" Clara's sweet voice grated on Leah's ears.
Damon opened the door slightly. Seeing who was outside, he frowned and asked, "Do you need something?"
"I'm here to find Lee. Can I come inside?" Standing at the door, Clara tried to peek inside and said sheepishly, "Is she not up yet?"
Hearing her voice, Leah felt a mix of emotions.
She had come in her last lifetime too, and had then "happened" to find the wolfsbane bottle because of its "strong smell."
Damon, who had already been suspicious, had been enraged and thrown both of them out of the bridal room.
When People gathered for the traditional hunt saw the commotion, she had loudly sobbed, acting all guilty, as if she had made the mistake of getting her friend caught.
This tarnished her reputation forever as the desperate, despicable woman who drugged the prince to sleep with him.