*NEW* Chapter XXXXII

Lydia's POV

That night, I couldn't sleep. My mind was too full—too much had changed, and I was at the center of it. My fate was tangled with something far bigger than I had ever imagined.

I sat on my bed, lost in thought, when a soft knock came at my door.

I already knew who it was.

Derek stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His presence filled the room, drawing all the air toward him. He looked at me, his expression unreadable.

"You're thinking too much," he murmured, stepping closer.

I exhaled shakily. "Can you blame me? My entire life just... changed."

He knelt in front of me, his warm hands settling on my knees. "You're not alone in this, Lydia. You never will be."

Something inside me cracked. The tension, the fear, the overwhelming weight of it all—I couldn't hold it anymore.

I reached for him. And he was already there.

The kiss started slow, hesitant, but then his hands slid around my waist, pulling me against him. I melted into his touch, into the way he held me like I was something precious.

He lifted me effortlessly, guiding me backward onto the bed, his lips tracing a path down my neck. Heat curled in my stomach, spreading through every inch of me. This was Derek—my mate, my protector, my king.

And tonight, I was his. He kept tracing his kisses until my neck, as he grew more and more excited by the minute. "Tell me to stop." He whispers knowing that we were losing control.

I pulled him closer. "Don't you dare."

He stopped nevertheless. For a moment, he just looked at me, then caressed my face. "I know what happened to you. What they did to you. I saw it all, I felt your strongest emotions of appall. I heard your whispers when you swore that you would never let any man touch you again."

I swallowed hard. "Do you feel disgusted by me?" I wondered. I felt disgusted with myself.

"I'm afraid, Lydia. Afraid to trigger your traumas and scare you. I just want you to be healed when we finally make love."

"Then heal me. Heal me with your love," I whispered, pleading.

His hesitation melted. His muscles tensed beneath my hands, his lips traveled up my belly, igniting fire within me. He mapped my body with his tongue, hands cupping me as he worshiped every inch. When he kissed me again, I saw his eyes—deep, glowing yellow. His wolf was present, too.

Pleasure overwhelmed me as he moved, his heat pressing against me, his hands exploring. My body arched toward him, desperate. When he finally slid my panties down, stroking me with deliberate ease, I gasped. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I could only surrender.

"Derek..." I moaned as he entered me, our bodies moving as one.

And then there were no more words—only us.

Derek's POV

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the bed where Lydia lay curled against me. Her soft, rhythmic breathing filled the silence, her body still tangled with mine from the night before. Two nights. Two nights of unfiltered passion, of whispered confessions, of waking up with her pressed against my chest, no longer hesitant, no longer afraid. Over the past days, I had watched her become more at ease with my touch, with my presence. She fit perfectly in my arms, as if she had always belonged there.

I ran my fingers through her hair, inhaling the scent of her. My mate. My queen. She shifted slightly, stirring, her hand instinctively clutching onto me as if she feared I would disappear. I had no intention of going anywhere.

Memories of the past days flooded my mind. Our moments together had been nothing short of transformative. She was no longer the wary, guarded girl who once flinched at my closeness. She had opened herself to me, and in return, I had given her every piece of me. There was no denying it now—she was my heart, my anchor, the one thing in this world I would burn everything down to protect.

But today, everything changed.

The council had refused to grant me more time. The coronation was happening today.

I had fought to delay it, insisting that there were still too many unresolved matters, that my first mission as king should be solidifying the new alliances before wearing the crown. But they had dismissed my concerns, citing urgency. The world needed a king now—not later.

When I met with the council yesterday, the tension had been palpable. They had accepted my conditions, but at a cost. "The terms and negotiations will take time, Alpha Derek," one of the elders had said. "These matters require study before they can be implemented."

I had scoffed at their caution. "You have always been too careful. That's why the werewolf world nearly collapsed before. If you hesitate too long, history will repeat itself."

They had exchanged wary glances, fully aware that I would not be an easy king to control. I was not my father. I would not be a puppet. I had my own vision, and I would see it through, no matter how much resistance I faced.

But at least they had made one thing clear—Lydia was off-limits. There would be no contest against my mate. No whispers of rejecting her, no challenges to her place at my side. She would be sworn in as my Luna, my queen.

That was the only victory I needed.

I felt Lydia stir against me again, her lashes fluttering as she slowly woke. I brushed a kiss against her forehead, my grip tightening around her waist. "Good morning, my queen."

She smiled sleepily, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over my skin. "Is it coronation day already?"

I sighed. "Unfortunately."

She shifted to look up at me, her eyes searching mine. "Are you ready?"

I wasn't sure if anyone was ever truly ready to bear the weight of a kingdom. But with Lydia at my side, I could face anything.

"I have to be."