The Play-Toy Of Three Lycan Kings-Chapter 449: The End?

SAGE

I reached for Makeh just as she rose to her feet.

She had stretched both hands toward me, palms open, her expression unreadable in that infuriatingly calm way of hers.

"What is going on?" I asked, suspicion tightening my voice.

"I am going to show you your parents," she replied simply.

My breath caught. For a heartbeat, I did not move. My hands twitched at my sides. I had asked the question. I had demanded the truth. But now that the answer stood within reach, doubt coiled through me.

"Are they... dead?" I asked quietly.

Makeh’s gaze softened. "No."

Alive. The word echoed in my chest. Alive meant possibilities. Alive meant answers. Alive meant complications.

I swallowed.

"What could possibly go wrong?" I muttered, though the irony was not lost on me.

Before I could change my mind, I slipped my hands into hers.

The world collapsed.

There was no spinning, no falling—only a sudden, absolute obliteration of everything familiar. Light vanished. Sound vanished. Even the sensation of my own body seemed to dissolve into nothingness.

Then—

Cold.

When awareness returned, I stood in the middle of a street blanketed in snow. Actual snow. White, powdery, crisp beneath my boots.

I blinked. The air bit at my cheeks, sharp and clean. My breath puffed visibly before me. Snowbanks lined the edges of the road, clearly pushed aside by machines into neat, orderly mounds. Tire tracks marked the cleared asphalt, though no vehicles passed at this hour.

I dusted my arms, surprised to find flecks of snow clinging to my sleeves.

"My parents must be rich," I muttered, looking around.

The street was pristine. Wide. Lined with evenly spaced streetlamps casting a soft golden glow over the snow. On either side stood stately houses—large, symmetrical estates with manicured hedges now capped in white. Black wrought-iron gates guarded long driveways.

The homes were a blend of stone and glass, modern yet elegant, their windows tall and glowing faintly from within. It looked like something out of one of the human magazines I had once secretly read.

"And human," I added slowly, confusion knitting my brows.

I had assumed—perhaps foolishly—that my origins would be tangled in some grand supernatural lineage. A hidden witch coven. A rogue lycan bloodline. Something dramatic.

This? This was an elite human neighborhood.

Makeh began walking, and I followed, boots crunching softly against the snow. The street was empty. Silent. Night hung heavy above us, though the sky held a strange stillness.

We stopped at the final house at the end of the street. It was the largest. And it was alive with light.

Golden strands of Christmas lights traced the edges of the roof, outlining every architectural detail. Wreaths adorned the double doors, each woven with pine branches, red berries, and shimmering ribbons.

A towering evergreen tree stood in the front yard, wrapped in twinkling white lights that reflected against the snow like fallen stars.

I frowned.

"Christmas is in December," I said slowly. "Is it December?"

Makeh’s lips curved faintly. "Time does not move the same across realms. The human world runs on its own rhythm. Ranking wolves who maintain relations with human governments keep careful record of such differences to avoid... missing important holidays."

"That sounds stressful," I muttered.

She laughed softly. "You are a royal now. You will travel between worlds with Adam. You will learn to keep track."

I pouted slightly. She was not wrong.

Human governments knew of us. Certain elite circles. Dark web communities whispering about our yearly contests. The world was more intertwined than I had once realized.

Without knocking, Makeh pushed open the door. I hesitated only a second before following her inside.

Warmth enveloped me immediately. The house was breathtaking.

The foyer was vast, with polished marble floors reflecting the glow of chandeliers overhead. Garland wrapped around the banister of a sweeping staircase, threaded with fairy lights and silver ornaments. The scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air.

And then I saw it. The Christmas tree. It stood in the center of the living room, nearly touching the high ceiling. It was enormous—lush, deep green, branches heavy with ornaments of every kind. Glass baubles in gold, crimson, and silver. Tiny wooden figurines. Crystal icicles. Delicate ribbons cascading downward. At its crown sat a radiant star, glowing softly.

Beneath it lay a mountain of wrapped gifts. Boxes of varying sizes wrapped in elegant paper—navy blue with silver bows, red with gold ribbon, white with delicate snowflake patterns. Each labeled neatly.

I stared.

"We do not celebrate this in the packs," I murmured. "I only read about it."

Makeh nodded. "It is a human tradition," she said. "Family. Giving. Gathering."

The house was quiet.

"What are we doing here?" I whispered.

"Be patient," she replied. "Wait for the clock."

I glanced at the wall. 4:57 a.m.

"Why five?" I asked.

"You will see."

The seconds ticked by. I wandered slightly, drawn toward a wall lined with framed photographs.

A couple smiled in nearly every one. The woman had long black hair. The man had strong features and kind eyes. In later photos, three children appeared.

Two boys. And a girl.

My breath faltered. The girl looked like me. Or like the version of me before everything changed. Before ancient blood. Before war.

She had her mother’s hair. Eyes that seemed to shift color in different lighting. A familiar tilt to her chin.

My heart thudded painfully.

5:00 a.m.

A shrill scream shattered the silence upstairs.

I jumped.

Footsteps pounded.

A boy—around ten years old—came barreling down the stairs, wild-haired and grinning. He rushed past me without so much as a flicker of awareness.

He did not see me. Thank gods.

Another boy followed, slightly older, laughing. Then the girl. And finally... their parents.

They descended more slowly, smiling, the woman wrapping a robe tighter around herself while the man carried a mug of something steaming.

"Merry Christmas!" the children shouted in unison.

The family gathered around the tree, collapsing into laughter as they began tearing into gifts.

I moved to stand beside Makeh, my hands clasped tightly before me.

Tears blurred my vision. I had my mother’s eyes. My father’s posture. The way he laughed—head thrown slightly back—felt achingly familiar.

"What happened?" I whispered.

Makeh watched them quietly.

"You were their first child," she began. "A miracle after three years of waiting."

I swallowed hard.

"But your mother noticed... differences."

The girl in front of me hugged her brother, squealing over a present.

"What kind of differences?" I asked faintly.

"Your eyes," Makeh said gently. "They changed color. Not subtly. Dramatically. Gold one moment. Silver the next. Almost luminescent in darkness. You also smelled strange..."

My stomach dropped.

"They were afraid... They thought..." Makeh hesitated. "They thought you were something unnatural. A demon. A curse."

I felt the air leave my lungs.

"So they left me," I finished hollowly.

"At a church," she said softly. "Hoping someone... holy would know what to do."

The family in front of me embraced, kissing cheeks, laughing.

"I was directed by the Goddess to retrieve you," Makeh continued. "I carried you to the pack. Placed you with your first foster family. Followed instinct and divine guidance."

I did not speak.

Shock numbed me first. Then, slowly, understanding seeped in.

They had been human. Terrified humans. I couldn’t hold that against them.

I watched my mother wipe frosting from the little girl’s cheek. Watched my father lift one of the boys effortlessly into the air.

They had built a life. They had other children. They were not monsters.

"They did not hate you," Makeh added quietly. "They feared what they did not understand."

Tears slipped down my face freely now. "It wasn’t their fault," I murmured. The ache in my chest softened slightly.

I had always imagined abandonment as something deliberate and heartless. This... was human weakness. Human fear.

After a long moment, I drew in a steady breath. "Take me back," I said.

Makeh nodded.

Darkness swallowed us once more.

—

We reappeared in the common room of Adam’s quarters.

Only—

We were not alone. The room was full.

Adam. Daniel. Noah. Isla. Naomi. Felíq and his right hand man. Darius. Their expressions were tight with worry.

The moment we materialized, silence fell like a dropped curtain.

Then Adam was moving. He crossed the distance between us in seconds, pulling me into his arms so fiercely I nearly stumbled.

"Where did you go?" he demanded, voice rough with restrained panic.

"I—"

Makeh lifted a hand. "I apologize. I did not intend to cause alarm."

Adam’s grip tightened briefly before easing. He cupped my face, scanning me for injury.

"I’m fine," I assured him softly, smiling through lingering tears.

Behind him, Felíq frowned.

"What is the matter?" he asked his second-in-command.

I turned just in time to see Zaven stagger.

He clutched his head, eyes widening as they locked onto Makeh.

Makeh stared back at him with open confusion. As if she were observing an unfamiliar artifact.

Zaven took another step backward. "What—" he began, voice strained.

And then I understood.

Laughter burst from me before I could stop it.

I bent forward, hands braced on my knees, laughing harder than I had in days.

Adam stared at me like I had lost my mind.

Makeh blinked, color rising to her cheeks.

"Oh," I gasped between laughs. "Oh, this is perfect."

The realization rippled through the room gradually. The bond. It was unmistakable.

Zaven straightened slowly, staring at Makeh as though the universe had blessed him personally.

Makeh tilted her head.

"I do not understand," she said calmly.

That only made me laugh harder.

For centuries, perhaps longer, she had walked alone. Detached. A divine messenger.

And now—

A mate.

The Goddess," I murmured aloud, still smiling, "has an excellent sense of humor."

Zaven wouldn’t stop staring at her...

Adam’s confusion melted into dawning amusement.

Felíq’s brows shot upward... but he looked amused too, happy rather... relieved.

And then—

A voice brushed through my mind. Warm. Familiar. Amused.

So, stuck-up woman got a Lifemate huh?

I straightened slowly, shocked to the bones. El?

Hey stubborn mule... missed me?

The End.