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EX-HUSBAND'S REGRET: DIVORCED AND CLAIMED BY THE LYCAN KING Novel Cover

EX-HUSBAND'S REGRET: DIVORCED AND CLAIMED BY THE LYCAN KING

"Sign it. You're no woman if you can't give me an heir." Niamh gave Marcus two years of her life, her unwavering loyalty, and her silent love. In return, the billionaire CEO served her divorce papers and a one-way ticket to the gutter. Cast out into a rainy night with nothing but the clothes on her back and twelve dollars, Niamh’s story should have ended there. Instead, she stumbled on a stranger in the rain. In an attempt to save him, he kisses her senseless. He is the last Lycan King standing, and a man of terrifying power, yet he is haunted by a seven-century curse. When the king has a taste of Niamh in the pouring rain, he knew he had to keep her for himself, even though she was human and it was against the laws of their kind not to mingle with humans. The King needs her essence and Niamh realizes she could use her body to get what she wanted; revenge on Marcus and his mother for humiliating her and making her waste her time. Now, the woman Marcus discarded is rising as a global conglomerate queen and a Divine Enchantress as assigned by the Moon Goddess. While her ex-husband’s empire crumbles into bankruptcy and his body rots with a shameful curse, Niamh is learning that being "claimed" by the King is much more than the contract she'd initially made with him. He wanted to use her as his cure. She wanted to use him for her revenge. But in the Lumina Realm, the Goddess has other plans.
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Chapter 5

Ottomir's POV

Rain lashed relentlessly against the thick castle windows. The rain felt like the same force my heart drummed with.

I paced the west living room, my boots clicking impatiently against the cold marble floor. 

Every few steps I would pause and strain my ears for any sound over the howling wind and cracking of thunder.

Beside me, Ashu was practically vibrating with anxiety. 

He stood by the hearth, though the fire had long since dwindled to gray embers. His hands were buried in his hair, his eyes darting toward the door every time the wind rattled the steel frame.

"Do you think they got him?" Ashu's voice was barely a whisper, thin and frayed at the edges.

"They must have," I replied, my voice sounding like gravel grinding together. I forced my jaw to relax. "It's raining. He doesn't do so well in the rain."

Ashu shook his head. "Are you really sure about this, Otto? The King... he's a Lycan. He's the peak of our kind. He's always active during the storms. He just doesn't sleep. I've seen him patrol for hours when the sky breaks open."

I let out a low, mocking chuckle that didn't reach my eyes. I turned my back to him, staring out into the darkness where the forest was nothing but a dark mass of pointed edges against the lightning-streaked sky. 

Ashu and everyone else in this castle was a fool.

"Active is not the same as strong, Ashu," I snapped, a sneer curling my lip as I remembered the night the scales had finally fallen from my eyes.

It had been years ago during a storm much like this one. I had been wandering the upper corridors, unable to rest, when I saw him staggering.

Our Lycan  king was staggering.

There was no other word for it. 

He moved through the hallway like a human wuss, his shoulder catching against the wall as he lurched forward. His head was down, and he was breathing heavily, like someone struggling to stay above water.

I had watched from the shadows, expecting him to shift, to let the wolf take the pain. But he stayed in that pathetic form, trembling like a deer that was caught in headlights. 

He looked fragile. 

He looked... mortal.

The disdain that rose in me that night was unexplainable. 

We were meant to be gods among these pesky humans, and here was our leader, the Alpha of Alphas, reduced to a stumbling wreck by a little water and noise.

From that moment on, I began to study him whenever it rained. I watched and I waited, eventually moving on to my own experiments.

The first time it rained after that discovery, I took a jasmine-scented candle which the king loathed. 

I lit the candle and placed it in the corridor of the floor below his private quarters. If his senses were sharp, he would have smelled it the moment the wick caught fire.

The rain drummed and I waited in the shadows near the stairs, counting the minutes.

An hour passed. Then two.

The King passed through that very corridor on his way to the library. He walked right past the candle. 

He didn't even flinch or turn his head.  He caught not a single whiff of the scent he claimed to despise.

And then, the clouds cleared and the sun began to peek through the sky the next morning. I lit the candle again, in the exact same spot.

Within three minutes, the King's roar shook the foundation of the castle. He stormed into the hall, his eyes dangerous and nostrils fuming. 

"Who dares burn that scent in this castle?" he bellowed. 

"I did, my King," I stepped forward that morning, feigning innocence and embarrassment.

The King took a quick look at me as his anger slowly faded away. "Ottomir. I've warned everyone about this filth. Never burn this again."

"I am sorry. It won't happen again," I apologized.

Even though I had caused a scene, I had gotten my answer.

If he couldn't smell the candle during the storm then he was weak during the storm. 

When the next storm came, I didn't waste time to attempt the experiment again. This time, I didn't burn the candle on the floor below. Instead, I took it with me to the door of his study, where I knew he was at.

I set the candle on a small pedestal right next to the door. I lit it. The jasmine scent exploded in the small space, thick enough to make a human gag. 

I stood there, my hand on the hilt of my dagger, my heart racing with the thrill of the gamble.

I waited for him to smell it and burst through the doors but nothing happened for a couple of minutes. 

The King continued his restless pacing inside the room. He spoke to himself in low, guttural tones, but not once did he acknowledge the candle  sitting inches from his doorway. 

That was when I knew that the rain had neutralized him. It had stripped away the primary weapon and the most precious sense of our kind from him.

"Otto, what are you thinking?" Ashu's voice brought me back to reality.

I turned back to Ashu, who was still staring at me with that pathetic, wide-eyed worry.

The experiment had confirmed everything. 

Something was wrong with the King. I don't know what it was but it was the best opportunity for me to begin to play my hand. 

I hadn't even told Ashu the full truth. I couldn't. He was loyal in his own way, but he was soft.

"He isn't himself during the storms, Ashu," I repeated firmly. 

Ashu looked down at the floor, his shoulders slumping. He didn't argue anymore. 

I looked back at the front door, my impatience returning.

"That's exactly what I told Rex and Ren," I whispered, more to myself than to him. "I told them to strike tonight. I told them they'd find him a commoner, not a King." 

I turned to Ashu, my eyes widening with glee at the thought of the King dying as my voice rose higher. "I told them that tonight, the Great Lycan King would be nothing but a blind dog lost in the dark."

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