The Lycan King’s Mark (Nevara) by Tiffanie L. Campbell novel Chapter 43

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CHAPTER 43 – Table It for Later

Nevara

After Michelle finally left, it took me a second to find my center again.

It wasn’t like she interrupted anything… but also, she kind of had. That moment in the closet–quiet and

warm and closer than I ever meant for it to get–still buzzed in my skin like an echo I couldn’t shake.

And the way Thoren looked at me when she walked in?

Like he didn’t want to let go.

It was nothing.

And it was everything.

He cleared his throat and stepped back, giving me space like he always did. Respectful. Controlled. But

the air between us hadn’t cleared, not really. It still shimmered with the weight of almost.

“So…” he said, that low, rumbling voice of his curling around the room like smoke. “Do you want to do

anything else this evening? Take a walk? Grab a snack? Maybe play a board game?”

I blinked. “A board game?”

His mouth twitched like he was holding back a smile. “Sure, why not? Doesn’t everybody?”

“Less people than you think,” I said, raising a brow. “And you are the last person I’d have ever guessed to be into board games.”

“Why?” he asked with a smirk. “Because I’m big and scary and wear all black?”

“No,” I said, even though yes. “Because you don’t exactly scream ‘game night.”

He chuckled. “Board games can be fun. Strategy, luck, betrayal… sounds like a kingdom in a box.”

I shook my head, amused despite myself. “I haven’t played since I was a kid. Nickolai and I used to play

with our parents every Thursday night. It was kind of a thing.”

He tilted his head slightly. “See? That sounds like fun. We could have fun like that.”

“There were four of us,” I pointed out. “Board games aren’t as fun with two. It’s just… sad and slightly competitive.”

He grinned wider. “We can rope Michelle into it.”

“Oh, gods.”

“Or Kael. Maybe Sabrina. I’m not above bribery if it means I get to see you laugh again.”

I looked at him for a long second, trying not to smile. “Let’s table that for another night.”

He gave me a slow nod. “Literally.”

< CHAPTER 43 – Table It for Later

I groaned. “Wow. That was a horrible dad joke.”

“I thought it was pretty witty.”

“Of course you did.”

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The smile he gave me then wasn’t big, but it was real. The kind that settled under my skin like warmth

from a hearth I didn’t know I’d been standing too far from.

“But in all seriousness,” I said, rubbing my hand along the back of my neck, “it’s getting late. And by late, I mean early. Four a.m. comes real quick, and I think I’m just gonna take a shower, maybe read a chapter or

two in one of the new books we got… and crash.”

“Fair enough,” he said, stepping toward the door. “I’ll leave you to your quiet evening. And I’ll personally

stand guard to make sure Michelle doesn’t sneak past me.”

“Appreciated.”

“But just in case,” he added, one brow raised with teasing gravity, “lock your door. She’s a slippery little

thing.”

I laughed. “Noted.”

He hesitated for a second. Like there was more he wanted to say. But then he gave me one final look–a soft flick of the eyes down to my mouth before pulling back up–and he turned to leave.

The door clicked behind him.

And the room felt too quiet.

Too still.

I padded toward the bathroom, pulling my hair up as I went. The hot water stung at first, but I welcomed it.

Let it chase the tension from my shoulders, the ache from too much walking, too much feeling. My

thoughts wandered, slipping between moments from today. The dressing room. The look on his face. The

way he held me like I was his to protect, not possess.

And then Michelle barging in like she owned the place.

I groaned and scrubbed harder.

By the time I got out, steam had fogged the mirror and the whole room smelled faintly of vanilla. I wrapped myself in a soft robe and wandered back out into the bedroom. A small stack of new books sat

waiting on the dresser. I picked the top one–a fantasy romance with a ridiculous title and a dragon on the cover–and brought it to the bed.

I curled up, flicked on the small lamp, and sank into the silence.

Except it wasn’t heavy anymore.

It was peaceful.

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< CHAPTER 43 – Table It for Later

I traced the edges of the book cover with my thumb, letting the moment stretch.

And then, just before opening the book, I got up again and went over to the door.

Turned the lock with a click.

Just in case.

I told myself I’d read one chapter.

Just one.

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The book was absurd–Firebound Hearts of the Obsidian Drake or something equally unhinged–and yet ten pages in, I was already hooked. The prose was dramatic, overwrought, and unapologetically indulgent. The heroine was fierce. The dragon was ancient and powerful and devastatingly devoted.

I frowned down at the page.

Why was this… working on me?

I flipped another page.

And another.

By the time I finally glanced at the clock on my nightstand, my stomach dropped.

1:07 a.m.

“Oh gods,” I muttered, snapping the book shut like it had personally betrayed me. “You absolute idiot.”

If I was lucky, I’d get three hours of sleep. If I wasn’t, I’d lie awake staring at the ceiling while my brain replayed every moment of the day on an endless loop.

I turned off the lamp and settled back against the pillows, tugging the blanket up to my chest.

Breathe. Sleep. Do not think.

Naturally, my mind did the exact opposite.

Images from the book bled into my thoughts–heat, power, the dragon shifting between forms, the way the bond between him and the heroine thrummed like something alive. Protective. Possessive. Reverent.

And then-

Thoren.

His hands at my hips.

The way his eyes darkened when he looked at me.

The quiet restraint in every movement, like he was holding back a storm on purpose.

My breath caught.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Nope. Absolutely not.”

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< CHAPTER 43 – Table It for Later

But my body didn’t listen.

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The thought slipped in uninvited–Thoren in his Lycan form, massive and powerful, golden eyes glowing

with that same intensity he wore in human skin. Me beneath him, human and smaller and safe, the bond

stretching between us like a living thing.

Warmth curled low in my belly.

I groaned softly into my pillow. “What is wrong with me?”

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