The Lycan King’s Mark (Nevara) by Tiffanie L. Campbell novel Chapter 76

Chapter 76 – The Unraveling

Nevara

Four days.

That’s how long I’ve gone without drinking the tea.

I poured it into plants. I dumped it in the toilet. I let it vanish into bathwater. And every hour since, more of me has clawed its way back to the surface. The fog hasn’t just lifted-it’s burned away under a sun that looks a hell of a lot like clarity.

And with clarity comes truth.

I remember everything now.

Not just pieces. Not just moments.

All of it.

I remember Tobias.

The man who called himself my husband for three years. The man who wore love like a mask and obligation like a wedding ring. The man who smiled in public. and ignored me in private. Who told me I was beautiful while inching closer every day to the one woman he never

should have wanted.

My brother’s wife.

His best friend’s mate.

I remember the looks he gave her when he thought no one noticed. The way he tensed whenever she entered a room, and softened whenever she laughed. I remember hearing her name in his sleep. The way his hand drifted lower under the covers as he murmured it.

And I remember what happened after my brother died.

Barely cold in the ground before Tobias moved her in.

Not as a guest. Not as someone in mourning.

But as his.

He played house with her while I-his wife-slept alone down the hall,

He told me I was fragile. Broken. That I didn’t need to worry about things anymore, that he’d

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Tobias still thinks I’m his little broken bird.

He hums when he cooks. He reads beside me like nothing’s changed. He still brushes my hair like he’s caring for a prized possession. Still strokes my cheek and murmurs you’re safe now, baby like he’s the hero in my story.

He’s not.

He’s the villain who poisoned my tea with wolfsbane.

My wolf confirmed it this morning-her voice hoarse, raw, but there.

Wolfsbane. That’s why I was locked away. He fed it to us in small doses. Kept me caged. Kept you silent.

I sat there smiling at him while she raged in my head. Every day, I faked calm. Faked sweet. Faked the good little victim so he wouldn’t catch on.

I had to.

Every cup of tea. Every careful sip. Every moment of stillness was orchestrated.

And now? Now I see it.

He never loved me. Not then. Not now. Not even when I begged him to.

But I also remember Thoren.

Gods, Thoren.

My fated mate. The man who was forced to reject me by his father. The one who pushed me away. Made me believe he didn’t want me just to save my life.

But even in that rejection… he still cared. That’s why the bond was never fully severed, and how we’ve brought it back to life.

He still protected me.

He still watched from the shadows and stood between me and everything that wanted to tear me apart.

He didn’t drug me.

He didn’t isolate me.

He didn’t replace me.

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And now… I can feel him.

Faint. Like a storm on the horizon. But my wolf feels him too, and she stirs every time I let myself believe it’s real.

He’s close.

She told me this morning. Her voice was weak, but sure. She said, He’s coming for us.

I hadn’t made a move before now because I wasn’t ready.

She’s still weak. I’m still slow. My body hasn’t caught up to my memory.

My wolf went still the second his presence brushed the edge of her awareness.

And then she howled.

Not aloud. Not even mentally. Just… soul-deep recognition.

And I believe her.

Because no matter how far we’ve fallen…

Thoren has never stopped chasing the truth.

And now that I have it?

I’m not staying here another godsdamned night.

I’ve been planning an escape since yesterday, before I even knew Thoren was close. Every creaky floorboard. Every route to the door. I know where my shoes are. I know which sweater I can run in. I even left the front door unlocked yesterday under the guise of “getting fresh air.”

I made a decision.

Tobias is in the shower. He has a routine. Three minutes to heat the water. Seven to wash. Five to dry off and stare at his reflection like he’s still the man he used to be.

Fifteen minutes.

That’s

my

window.

The second the water starts running, I move.

Not fast enough to be suspicious,

Just fast enough to matter,

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I grab the sweater. Tug on the sneakers. My hands tremble, but my grip holds. I keep my breathing steady.

I open the door slow-so slow. Not even a click.

And then I’m out.

Gone.

I don’t close the door behind me. Don’t slam it or make some final grand gesture. This isn’t a movie.

This is survival.

I take off into the trees with nothing but my breath and my bones and the last spark of strength my wolf can lend me.

She pushes through the exhaustion.

We don’t know where we’re going, she tells me. But we know where we’re not staying.

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