Possessed Wolfless: From Rejected to Vengeful Lycans' Queen-Chapter 111: Where is the Fox?

Lethia gripped the dinner knife tighter than necessary as she spread pineapple jam over her toast. Her sharp eyes locked onto Zeran, who sat across from her, predictably absorbed in his damn tablet again.

How could he leave her like a used toilet paper last night? Just like that?

Every nerve in her body had been on edge with need, and in the end, she’d had to finish it herself. But it was empty. There was no climax, no satisfaction, just a hollow ache she couldn’t soothe.

And what made her knuckles turn white now was that the bastard in front of her had let it happen on purpose.

How the hell did he even suppress his own urge? Pills? Or did he stroke himself off in secret?

Lethia pressed the jam down harder, imagining running the knife along the length of his cock just to watch him beg her for mercy.

"I want to resume my role as executive aide. You can’t lock me up in here forever, can you?" Lethia demanded, chewing her over-jammed toast with defiant crunches.

Zeran tilted his head slightly and gave her a smug look. "Is that a no?"

She frowned, glaring back at him. "No? No for what?" She kept chewing, then paused as the implication hit her.

"I haven’t decided yet about the marriage. Weren’t we supposed to talk about it again after I get my ranch back?"

Zeran chuckled low. "Can your body wait that long, though?"

The smug grin he gave her made it clear he didn’t give a damn about the glares she threw his way.

Furious, Lethia shoved the rest of her toast into her mouth, chewed like hell, then downed her warm milk in one gulp, her eyes still burning holes into him.

"Then make it faster. We can’t let the baby wait that long, aren’t we? I’m sure the baby will start judging whether the father’s competent or not by how long he makes it wait," she jabbed, wiping her lips with a napkin while stabbing right at Zeran’s ego.

Zeran sighed. "The campaign period starts next week. You don’t need to act as an aide—you’ve got friends who can handle the internal work for you, aren’t you?"

Lethia rolled her eyes at the suggestion she’d already considered. Of course, she knew it was pointless to be an aide right now.

But that didn’t mean she was going to sit around like some pretty caged bird in this big mansion.

"If you’re still worried about the scandal Caelum stirred up last time, I think it’s already calmed down."

"The assassin who stabbed you hasn’t been caught. I can’t risk putting the baby in danger."

Lethia chuckled silently—what a joke. Of course, all he cared about was his offspring.

A beast with zero emotional intelligence like him wouldn’t give a damn unless it directly involved something that belonged to him.

In the end, she felt like Zeran only saw her as a fancy sperm storage.

"If you’re bored, here." Zeran slid a sleek black card across the table to her. "Go have fun with that chatty friend of yours. And... Buy yourself some dresses. You need to come with me to the Lykon Gala this weekend."

Without waiting for a reply, Zeran stood and slipped into his suit jacket like the conversation were already done.

"The genetic result will be sent here this evening. You can start preparing your strike. And this mansion is the best place you can use to make secretive plans."

With that, Zeran walked away, leaving the dining room where Lethia could only freeze, mouth agape.

Dumbfounded by how he gave her absolutely no room to protest or offer any opinion.

Lethia hated the enjoyment she felt for being controlled.

And yet, every word Zeran said, every move he made, clicked perfectly in her mind—like a puzzle she didn’t want to solve but couldn’t stop obsessing over.

But what got to her most was the strange familiarity in his eyes—eyes that carried both comfort and sorrow, hitting her heart in the exact same breath.

All those years spent proving her independence, so no one would dare underestimate her in the pack—it all felt bruised now.

She clenched the black card tighter between her fingers. Her ego might’ve been battered, but this didn’t feel like helplessness.

It felt more like fear—fear of whether she could really trust this man with her entire life laid bare.

Lethia rose from the dining chair and picked up her phone to call Chasey. But when the screen lit up, she frowned at the notification reminder that popped up.

When she tapped on it, her eyes widened, and a sharp pang struck her chest—it said today was the day of her appointment with Doctor Rue.

Her thumb hovered as she opened the list of reminders, and there they were, marked dates for every upcoming check-up, even a possible due date already listed. She hadn’t done any of it.

Only one person could’ve done this—Renar.

Lethia took a deep breath, her arms falling limp at her sides. And then, she remembered.

The other reason she’d hesitated to accept the marriage offer in the first place—those damn fox beads in Renar and Caelum’s bodies.

Where the hell did that damn fox go? Had it really left her body? Was the fox bead bond truly gone?

If so... good for her—or maybe not?

***

"Can you please be quick?" Adam stood at the open door, calm as ever, eyes darting left and right to make sure no one had passed by and caught them in the middle of a crime.

"Wait... just keep watching," Chasey ordered, still busy snapping photos of several sheets spread across the desk.

Adam turned his head to check what the hell she was doing, and his brows drew together when he saw her still digging through the stack of files with that dead-serious face.

"Didn’t you already find what we came for? What the hell are you still looking for?" he hissed, irritated, though his voice was more of a whispered yell.

It didn’t stop Chasey from flipping through the papers with that stubborn defiance.

Moments later, she dropped one of the files on the desk and took a picture of it, brows tightly drawn as if she’d found something she wasn’t supposed to see.

"Chasey!" Adam barked again, clearly losing patience.

She finally shoved her phone into her shirt pocket, fixed the mess she’d made on the desk, making sure everything looked untouched, and walked toward him.

"Let’s go," she muttered, brushing past him out the door.

Adam shook his head, shutting it behind them. "Amy should be back right now."

"Ugh, stop whining... she’s not even back yet. I need to make sure I got all the juicy info for my Que—"

Before she could finish, Adam suddenly grabbed her wrist and yanked her so hard her back slammed against the wall. But what really stole her breath was how close her nose now was to the curve of his throat.