The Lycan King’s Mark (Nevara) by Tiffanie L. Campbell novel Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34 – A Movie, a Blanket, and a Maybe

Nevara

Dinner was good.

425 Points

Quiet. Warm. A little too comfortable, like maybe it wasn’t just about food anymore. Like maybe we were sharing something else across that table–something soft and unspoken.

He didn’t rush me. Didn’t pry. Just let the silence exist without trying to fill it.

I could’ve walked away after that.

I should’ve walked away after that.

But then he said, “You want to watch a movie?”

The question landed like a pebble in still water.

I blinked at him. “A movie?”

He shrugged, casual but not quite indifferent. “Just a thought. I just wanted to spend a little bit more time with you.”

“I have training tomorrow,” I said automatically, pushing back from the table. “So I should probably head to

bed.”

“You don’t.” His voice was even, almost amused. “Training was canceled for the rookies tomorrow. Mission prep for the senior units.”

I arched a brow. “Really? No one told me.”

“I’ll have a word with Kael,” he said, clearly displeased.

“Please don’t. It’s not a big deal.” I stood and stretched, easing out the knots from today’s run. “Honestly, I’m just glad I didn’t wake up at four to be out on the field by five. Knowing my luck, I would’ve stood out there freezing for an hour before coming back inside.”

He gave me a look. “Don’t ever wait that long. If your commander isn’t there before you–that’s your red flag. If they’re more than ten minutes late, something is wrong. You Investigate. Understood?”

His tone had shifted–still calm, but edged with that quiet authority I’d seen on the training field.

gave a mock salute. “Duly noted, Your Majesty.”

He smirked, just barely. “Good. Now that we’ve covered that…”

His eyes met mine again. “How about that movie?”

I hesitated, arms folding across my hoodle. “I am kind of tired.”

“So am I,” he said. “But sometimes it’s nice to be tired… next to someone else who is. You can fall asleep if

< CHAPTER 34 – A Movie, a Blanket, and a Maybe

you want. I just want to enjoy your company a little longer.”

The way he said it.

Low. Gentle. No pressure.

It curled through me, warm and dangerous.

He added, “There will be popcorn.”

“Tempting,” I said slowly. “But only if it’s drizzled in chocolate sauce. And has chopped pickles.”

He stared at me. “Are you… pregnant?”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

25 Point

“That’s the strangest combination I’ve ever heard in my life. That’s a craving, Nevara. That’s not popcorn. That’s a cry for help.”

I narrowed my eyes. “For the record, no–I’m not pregnant. And how dare you.”

“I didn’t mean it,” he said quickly, hands raised in mock surrender. “It was just a reaction. That combo? That’s dangerous territory.”

“Well,” I said, lifting my chin, “apparently it’s not just a pregnant woman thing. Because I’ve liked it for

years.”

He gave me a look. “Then it’s a youth thing. A chaos thing. I’ll have Sabrina make it, but I’m having regular

popcorn. With butter.”

“How boring.”

“Sometimes boring is nice.”

“And sometimes,” I said sweetly, “a little crazy is better.”

He grinned. “That, I don’t disagree with.”

Ten minutes later, we were curled up on opposite ends of a wide couch in the lounge just off the east corridor. A fire crackled softly in the hearth. Sabrina had brought the popcorn–two bowls, one suspiciously dark and crunchy, the other a golden pile of normalcy.

I dunked a chocolate–covered pickle slice into my mouth and caught him staring.

“Don’t judge me,” I said around the crunch.

“Too late.”

I pulled the blanket tighter around my legs and leaned back. “What are we watching?”

He gave me a mock look of offense. “You think I’d ask you without already having something in mind?”

“I literally haven’t watched a movie in three years,” I said. “So whatever it is, I’ve probably never seen it.”

< CHAPTER 34 A Movie, a Blanket, and a Maybe

He clicked the remote. The screen lit up.

“Perfect,” he said.

I didn’t make it through the whole thing.

+20 Points

The couch was warm. The fire was warm. And his voice, when he occasionally commented on something

in the film–just low enough to make me lean in–was warmer still.

Somewhere between the second act and the final fight scene, my body gave out.

I drifted.

Wrapped in a soft blanket, belly full, head heavy against the cushion, I let my eyes close.

I wasn’t sure what woke me.

It wasn’t sound. The movie had long since ended, the castle settled into its late–night hush. It wasn’t light

either–only the soft glow of embers flickering in the hearth.

It was sensation.

A ripple beneath my skin. Like static, but deeper. Warmer. Like a dozen sparks lighting just under the surface of my arms and chest, pulsing softly in time with a heartbeat that didn’t feel like mine.

My eyes fluttered open–half–open, really–and I realized I wasn’t on the couch anymore.

I was in the air. Cradled.

Thoren’s arms wrapped solidly beneath me, one under my knees, the other across my back. His chest was firm and impossibly warm, and his scent–earth and spice and something darker–wrapped around me like

the blanket I no longer had.

“What are you doing?” I murmured, voice hoarse with sleep.

“You shocked me,” I added, barely above a whisper. “When you picked me up. Stupid static.”

“That wasn’t static electricity,” he said, so low I wasn’t entirely sure he’d spoken at all.

But I was too groggy to catch the meaning, and he didn’t repeat it.

“You fell asleep,” he said instead, shifting me gently in his arms as we turned down the corridor. “I’m taking

you to your room.”

“Oh,” I breathed, head lolling slightly against his chest. “Okay”

His footsteps were quiet on the stone floor, steady and sure. I let my eyes drift shut again, the motion lulling me back toward sleep.

“You’re warm,” I mumbled, pressing my face against his shoulder without thinking.

He didn’t say anything, but I felt the smallest hitch in his breath. The barest pause in the rhythm of his steps.

<CHAPTER 34 A Movie, a Blanket, and a Maybe

+25 Pomts

Then he adjusted his hold on me slightly, tightening just enough to make me feel–secure. Tucked in. Like nothing could touch me here.

My room was dimly lit when we arrived. He nudged the door open with his foot and carried me inside like I

weighed nothing.

He bent to place me gently on the bed, careful not to jostle me, but I stirred anyway, forcing my eyes

halfway open.

“Do you want to change into pajamas?” he asked, his voice softer now. “I can bring them to you.”

I shook my head, still half lost in dreams. “No, I don’t need them.”

And without a second thought–without even really registering what I was doing–I sat up just enough to pull my hoodie over my head.

Underneath was a thin tank top. One I hadn’t worn with a bra. The straps slipped slightly, the fabric clinging

to curves too soft to hide. But I didn’t care. I was too tired to care.

I stood, wobbling slightly, and shimmied out of my leggings, leaving myself in nothing but that tank top

and a pair of cotton underwear.

He stood frozen by the bed, the blanket still in his hands, something unreadable in his eyes.

I crawled onto the mattress and sank into the pillows with a soft sigh.

A second passed.

Then another.

He stepped forward and pulled the blanket up over me with slow, careful hands. Tucked it around my hips

like a man folding a secret.

And then–so gently I barely felt it–he brushed a few loose strands of hair away from my face.

His fingers lingered for half a breath too long against my temple.

“Goodnight, Nevara,” he said quietly.

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