The Lycan King’s Mark (Nevara) by Tiffanie L. Campbell novel Chapter 126

Chapter 126 – The Things History Forgets

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Chapter 126 – The Things History Forgets

Kael

The castle was quieter now, but not in the old–stone, candlelit way people romanticize. The overhead

lights hummed faintly. Security panels blinked at hallway junctions. Cameras rotated in slow, controlled

arcs.

My boots hit polished flooring in a steady rhythm as I moved through the west wing. I was a man on a

mission.

By the time I reached my door, the adrenaline had burned off, leaving something sharper underneath.

Expectation.

I unlocked it.

The lights were on. Soft. Warm. Not dramatic.

Reddick was stretched across the couch like he owned the place, one ankle hooked over the opposite

knee, scrolling through something on his phone.

He looked up when I entered.

“You’re back,” he said.

I closed the door behind me. “You’re still here.”

He lifted one brow. “You told me not to leave.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d listen.”

He set the phone down slowly. “You’d be surprised what I’m willing to listen to.”

Silence filled the space between us.

Not awkward, Charged.

He stood.

The shower had done nothing to tame him. Hair still damp at the edges. Shirt gone. Bare feet against hardwood like he was already comfortable.

“You finish saving the kingdom?” he asked.

“For today.”

“Good,” he said quietly.

He crossed the room in three strides.

There was no dramatic shove this time. No collision.

& Chapter 126 – The Things History Forgets

Just hands.

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His fingers slid behind my neck, pulling me down into a kiss that felt deliberate instead of explosive. Slow instead of frantic. Like he’d had time to think about it and decided he was going to take exactly what he wanted.

I didn’t stop him.

Not this time.

The tension from earlier wasn’t wild anymore. It was focused.

His hands moved to my belt and I didn’t stop him this time. My palms found his waist, pulled him in closer.

“You’re not leaving again,” he murmured against my mouth.

“Don’t plan on it,” I replied.

Last time we were together he led every movement, every touch. This time I was going to show him that I

also know how to control the moment.

“Bedroom. Now.” I ordered.

“I see you made sure to bring that dominance back with you as well.” He said with a sly smirk.

I followed him into the bedroom and when we reached the bed, one arm wrapped around his body to grab

his throat.

I pulled him against my chest. His breath hitched.

With my other hand I unbuttoned his pants and slid my hand down them to pull his c**k free. He was already rock hard.

He leaned his head back against my shoulder giving my mouth access to his neck. I bit and sucked gently right on the spot I imagined marking him.

I’ve only spent one night with this man and he has me so twisted I want to mark him. His moaning under my touch wasn’t helping matters.

I had to pull myself from my thoughts and back to this moment. I opened the bedside table drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube and slicked my c**k.

Pushing Reddick to bend over, I held my c**k to his ass and gently pushed in.

His gasp lit something in me.

“That’s right,” I breathed, “Take this fucking cock.”

Reddick looked back at me. Stroking himself as I slowly thrusted into him.

“Harder.” He begged.

I made longer, deeper thrusts. Slamming my hips into him with each thrust.

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Chapter 126–The Things History Forgets

“Your tight ass is going to make me come.”

“I’m about to come as well.”

“Good. Come with me.”

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The last thrust I held it deep in him as I let my load go with a grunt. I reached around and helped him

stroke his c**k as he came all over both of our hands.

I eased out of him slowly and gently and we collapsed on the bed.

“That’s just the first round.” I said.

“That better be only the first round.” He sassed back.

Reddick lay on his back, one arm tucked behind his head.

“You ever notice,” he said casually, “how selective official history is?”

I turned my head toward him. “That’s an ominous opening after being freshly fucked.”

He smirked faintly. “You didn’t mind when I dissected that tapestry.”

“That was art.”

“It was propaganda,” he corrected.

I sighed. “What is it now?”

He shifted onto his side, propping himself up slightly.

“Most people forget the former king had an older brother.”

I stilled.

“He didn’t,” I said automatically.

“That’s what most people say.”

I studied him. “You’re about to tell me that’s wrong.”

“I’m about to tell you it’s incomplete.”

“Incomplete how?”

“There were two sons,” he said. “The elder enlisted young. Early conflict near the southern border- pre–ceasefire years. He was supposed to rotate home within twelve months.”

“And?”

“No confirmed remains. No verified death. Just a press release and a state funeral without a body.”

I frowned. “Plenty of soldiers go missing.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But rumors don’t usually outlive press cycles. This one did.”

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I stayed quiet.

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“They say he survived,” Reddick continued. “That he crossed into civilian territory. Changed his name. Walked away from it all.”

“That sounds like conspiracy message board nonsense.”

“Maybe,” he said. “Except the story’s consistent across three regions and two generations.”

My jaw tightened.

“You’re saying he didn’t die.”

“I’m saying,” Reddick replied evenly, “there are persistent accounts of him building a life with a woman outside the royal class. No titles. No press. No security detail.”

“Children?” I asked.

His eyes held mine.

“Allegedly.”

Silence thickened.

“That would mean-”

“That the royal bloodline might not be as cleanly documented as people think,” he finished.

I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling.

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