Lycan king's substitute breeder novel Chapter 68

Oregon

"Ugh," I grunted as a sharp pain shot through my chest. My heart began to race and I felt panic rising within me. What could be happening? It took me a moment to realize it was the mate bond. My mate, Vivian, was in pain.

I groaned as I rose from my desk, pushing my glasses aside as I looked over at the paperwork on the desk. I didn't have time to worry about that now. I had to go to Vivian. With that thought in mind, I bolted out of the office.

I ran down the hallway towards her room and found the door closed. I tried to open it, but it was locked. I knocked, but there was no response.

"Vivian!" I called out, pounding on the door with my fist. "Open up!"

Still, there was no response. I felt a knot of fear forming in my chest, and I knew I had to get inside the room.

"I'm breaking down the door!" I called out as I placed my hands on the door, ready to force it open.

The door suddenly swung open, and Vivian stood before me, a smile plastered on her face. It looked forced and fake, though. Her face was wet, like she had been crying.

"Vivian," I breathed, pulling her into a tight embrace. I held her as if she might slip away, unwilling to let her go.

She returned the hug, then let out a deep sigh. I slowly let go, our eyes locking as we gazed at each other.

"Why didn't you answer me? Why!" I exclaimed, my concern clear in my voice.

"I'm so sorry," she said softly, a forced smile still on her face.

"Do you know how scared and worried I was?" I asked, my gaze locked on her face.

"I'm really sorry," she repeated, her voice almost a whisper. I heaved a sigh, knowing she felt guilty.

"Now, tell me what happened," I said as she entered the room. I followed her in and shut the door behind me.

"Nothing," she said, chuckling awkwardly. I could tell she was lying.

"Don't lie to me," I said sharply.

"What?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Stop pretending everything is fine, Vivian," I said, trying to be gentle but firm. "Your face says it all. Your smile is forced, and I know you're not okay. Why is your face wet? Have you been crying?"

She laughed, the sound hollow and forced. "Does this look like tears to you?" she asked, running her fingers across her damp face. "That's a lot of water."

"What?" I asked, my eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"I didn't cry, King Oregon," she said, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Then, why is your face wet?" I asked, still trying to understand what was going on.

"I washed it," she replied. "I was feeling exhausted and decided to splash some water on my face."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Are you okay, then?" I asked. "Please be honest."

She pouted her lips and shook her head. "No, I'm not okay," she whispered, her voice sounding small and vulnerable. "I feel sick and I'm not sure why."