The Lycan King’s Mark (Nevara) by Tiffanie L. Campbell novel Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14 – The King at the Table

Nevara

The bath was hot–almost too hot, but I didn’t care. The soaking fob was deep enough to drown in and for the first time in days, I didn’t feel cold. The steam softened everything the brides, the are, the confusion. I sank in and let it all go, one breath at a time.

Afterward, I found a robe–plush, white, and soft enough to make me gasp. I hadn’t realized how much it missed simple things. Comfort. Warmth. Clean skin and clean towels. Even the scent–avender and something woodsy–felt luxurious.

Back in the room, the tray on the table still waited, the food still warm. Mex, roses vegades, fest bread with herbed butter. I didn’t bother asking how. I just ate.

I even turned on the TV–curiosity winning over pride. A screen mounted to the far wall blinked to life with a quiet click, and I smiled without meaning to. A cooking competition was mid–episode. The frost was yelling about undercooked risotto. It felt so stupidly normal, I could’ve cried.

Somewhere between the second round of judging and a commercial for champoo, I fell asleep. Still in the robe. Still curled on the long couch, plate on the table, remote in my hand.

And when I woke-

I was in the bed.

Tucked under thick blankets. The room dim, the fire burning low. The TV was off. My tray was gone

But I didn’t remember moving.

I sat up slowly, blinking against the light.

The door creaked open, and a woman entered–early thirties, petite frame, hair twisted into a braided bun carrying a tray of folded linens. Her eyes widened when she saw me.

“Oh, good! You’re awake. I was starting to worry.”

“Worried?” I croaked. My voice was still heavy with sleep. “Why?”

She smiled brightly. “You’ve been asleep for over eighteen hours. It’s nearly dinner time. The king said if you woke by then, he would like you to join him.”

I blinked harder.

“The king?”

She tilted her head, clearly surprised. “Yes… is that not…?” She trailed off, then stepped back politely.” Forgive me. I should’ve introduced myself properly. My name is Sabrina. I’ve been assigned as your personal maid.”

My mouth opened. Closed.

< CHAPTER 14 – The King at the Talde

Of course I had a maid now. Why wouldn’t 1?

Sabrina set the linens down and walked to the closet, pulling open one of the doors picked up a few

things for you while you slept. Just enough to hold you over until you’re able to shop for yourself kose my taste doesn’t offend you.”

“You… went shopping?”

She smiled as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “It’s part of my duties. But we can make a lig

tomorrow if there’s anything you’d like replaced.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, still foggy. “You’re very… efficient.”

Sabrina beamed. “Now. Let’s get you ready for dinner”

“I can do that myself,” I muttered, dragging the blankets off.

“Oh no,” she said sweetly but firmly. “That’s what I’m here for. The king said to make sure you were

comfortable.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Do you always follow orders so literally?”

She didn’t answer. Just handed me a pair of fitted black pants and a deep green sweater with a soft cow! neck. “This will be perfect. The king isn’t strict about formality for daily meals. As long as it’s clean,

comfortable, and elegant, he doesn’t mind.”

I hesitated. “So no gowns or crowns?”

She laughed. “Not unless you want to make a statement.”

I sighed and changed. The clothes fit well–annoyingly well. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail, still slightly damp and wild from sleep.

“Shoes?” I asked.

Sabrina knelt and handed me a pair of flat black slippers. “Comfortable, but presentable.”

Ten minutes later, I was walking through cold stone corridors, led by Sabrina and two guards who flanked us in silence. The deeper we went, the more ornate the decor became–torches flickering against tapestries, silver chandeliers glinting overhead. Everything here was old, regal, heavy

The dining hall doors were carved from black wood. They swung open without a word, revealing a long

table already set for two.

And at the far end-

Thoren,

He sat in a high–backed chair, his half–shift gone now, dressed in a black buttoned shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms. His hair was still damp from a recent shower. He looked less like a warrior now and more like a man trying very hard not to look like a king.

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COUPTERTA–Thong Tale

Which made me even more suspicious

I was led to the seat on his right–close enough to feel his presence, far enough to pretend I didn’t.

He didn’t stand Just looked at me

“You look well rested,” he said, voice low

I didn’t answer

“Eat,” he added, nodding toward the covered dishes. “You need it after how long you slept.”

“I suppose I should thank you for… tucking me in?”

“You fell asleep sitting up. You were freezing”

“And the TV?”

“I turned it off”

“And the tray?”

He shrugged, “You ate everything. I assumed that meant you liked it.”

I reached for the fork.

“Shouldn’t we wait for the king?” I asked, not looking at him.

Silence.

Then-

“King Thoren,” a steward said, approaching with a bottle of wine in hand. “The vintage you requested.”

Thoren nodded. “Very good. I’ll pour it myself.”

He took the bottle, dismissed the steward with a nod, and poured two glasses–one for himself, then one

for me.

My hand froze on the edge of the plate.

I stared at him. “You’re the king?”

His eyes met mine, Calm. Unapologetic.

“Yes”

I set my fork down, slowly. “You’re the king”

“That’s what I said.”

“So let me get this straight… I leaned back slightly. “You reject me four years ago. Disappear. Show up out of nowhere after I’ve been attacked. Drag me halfway across the forest without explanation. And then plant me at your right hand like I’m–what, your dinner date?”

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<CHAPTER 14 – The King at the Table

His expression didn’t flicker. “You needed protection.”

“Bullshit,” I snapped. “You are the protection.”

He said nothing.

I stared at the wine. Then the food. Then him.

“I don’t even know what this is anymore,” I whispered.

Thoren looked at me for a long moment.

Then-

“You will.”

I didn’t want to eat, but my body overruled my pride.

+25 Points

The smell of roasted meat and herbs curled around me, reminding me I hadn’t had a real meal since the rogue attack. My hand moved on its own–fork, knife, slice. The first bite was so good I almost groaned. Juicy venison, seasoned vegetables, a rich sauce that warmed my insides. The wine followed–deep, dark,

surprisingly smooth.

We ate in silence for several minutes. He watched me from the corner of his eye, like he was waiting for

something–words, maybe. A reaction. I gave him none.

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