The Lycan King’s Mark (Nevara) by Tiffanie L. Campbell novel Chapter 71

Chapter 71 – Tethered Steps

Nevara

The scent of herbs and roasting vegetables hung in the air as I put a jacket on over my hoodie and

stepped into my boots. Tobias stood at the stove, humming again, stirring something that smelled like rosemary and garlic.

“I think I’m going to take a walk,” I said casually, brushing my hair back into a loose knot.

His spoon stilled mid–stir.

“I’ll go with you,” he said, already reaching for the dish towel on his shoulder.

I waved a hand lightly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to stop what you’re doing on my account. I just want some

fresh air.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve been meaning to get outside too. Cabin fever’s no joke.”

I didn’t argue. Just nodded, like that was perfectly reasonable.

Maybe it was.

Maybe I was just overthinking again.

The weather had warmed since the first day I woke up here. The snow had receded into soft piles under

the trees, and now the path behind the cabin was mostly clear–just damp earth and dead leaves crunching underfoot.

We walked in silence for a while, the sound of boots pressing into the forest floor keeping time.

Tobias stayed close. Not too close. But close enough.

And that’s when it hit me.

In two full weeks, I hadn’t been alone, save for using the bathroom and even then he was right outside the

door to ‘make sure I was alright‘.

He made every meal. Brewed every tea. Built every fire. Sat beside me when I read. Watched every movie

with me. Slept beside me.

Always there.

Always watching.

Always just within reach.

At first, it made sense. I’d been hurt. Disoriented. He was my husband–of course he’d want to help.

But now… my body felt fine.

My head was clear.

< Chapter 71 – Tethered Steps

But the thing was–I didn’t know if it did.

We walked a little farther, his hand brushing mine now and then but never gripping. Never pressing.

Then it hit me.

Not a thought. Not a sensation.

A picture.

A flash.

A woman’s face–dark hair, delicate features. She turned when someone called her name.

“Vanessa.”

Then-

A man’s hand, wide and firm, pressed low against her back. His fingers splayed across the curve of her

ass. Not possessive. Not gentle.

Familiar.

There was a ring on his finger. Black. Thick. With decorative silver engravings. A wedding band.

The image blinked out as quickly as it came, like a dropped film reel skipping mid–frame.

I stopped walking, disoriented. My heart gave a funny little skip.

“Nevara?” Tobias said, his voice laced with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I don’t know.” I brought a hand to my temple, not from pain–just confusion. “Maybe a flicker of a

memory?”

His posture shifted instantly–interest sharpened in his eyes like a blade pulled from its sheath.

“That’s great,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “What was it? Can you tell me?”

I blinked, trying to piece it together. “There was a woman. I think her name was Vanessa. A man said it, and then… he put his hand on her back. Really low. He was wearing a wedding ring.”

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