Chapter 13: Shameless

Words : 1067 Updated : Sep 17th, 2025

Chapter 13 of "Possessed Wolfless: From Rejected to Vengeful Lycans' Queen" opens with: Chapter 13 - Shameless The sunlight creeping through the VIP ward's window made Renar lower the... Find out what happens!

Chapter 13 - Shameless The sunlight creeping through the VIP ward's window made Renar lower the anti-radiation screen, blocking the ultraviolet rays while allowing the light to filter in. The digital indicator showed today's radiation levels were higher than yesterday's, making Renar scoff in annoyance. Lethia's prolonged unconsciousness—a week since the surgery—only added to his burdens, his shoulders sinking further under the weight of it all. Taking a seat beside her bed, Renar gently lifted her hospital gown and pressed his palm against the fading scar from her operation. A quiet chuckle escaped him as he felt the fetus' heartbeat—strong and steady. Who would have thought that the same fetus, had been on the brink of death just a week ago due to a ruthless assassination attempt? Yet, despite the warmth in her cheeks and the liveliness in her appearance, Lethia still hadn't woken up. Renar frowned. What was wrong with her? The post-surgery examinations showed nothing unusual, but something wasn't right. Renar rose from his chair and pulled Lethia's gown back into place. Hesitantly, He placed his right palm over her left chest, to check her heartbeat. The steady rhythm reassured him—her heart was fine. If anything, its strong and healthy beat made it all the more baffling that she hadn't regained consciousness. A ridiculous thought crossed his mind. Pressing his palm against her forehead, he shut his eyes as if—just maybe—he could read her thoughts. He giggled to himself moments later, knowing full well his powers didn't work that way. His gaze drifted to the elegant curve of her neck, triggering memories of the night he lost control. Since then, he had never dared to miss a single dose of his pills, unwilling to risk the beastly state that overtook his senses every eight hours when their effects faded. Sliding his palm along the side of her neck, he was met with a warmth that seeped into his skin like a magnet—an invisible pull that made both his hands settle against her throat. Renar had never felt energy this warm—an undeniable pull pulsating from within him, tugging at something primal. There was nothing abnormal about the delicate blue veins tracing Lethia's throat, yet his hands moved on their own, gliding in a slow caress from her chin to the nape of her neck. He knew he should pull away. This had already crossed the line of patient care. The energy coursing through him was no longer meant for healing—it was something forbidden. 'What's with this woman? Why does this feel so tempting... so electrifying?' His gaze dropped to her naturally peach-hued lips. That same earthy honeyed scent from that night—fainter now but unmistakable—lingered between them. He couldn't deny it. That scent was the reason his hands refused to let go. His palms burned with heat, his body betraying him, closing the distance inch by inch until their faces were mere breaths apart. 'Oh shit... What's wrong with me? Why is my body moving on its own? No, Renar—pull back!' His fingers trembled as he tried to pry himself away from Lethia's throat. But the moment he gritted his teeth and pulled back, her eyes snapped open—sharp, unreadable—and locked onto his. Renar stiffened. His pulse kicked up when she smirked and murmured, "What a perfect position." Before he could react, Lethia yanked him in, crashing her lips against his. A sharp jolt shot through him. His body jerked in instinct, hands pushing against her shoulders, but she held on like iron. No matter how hard he tried, her grip wouldn't budge—as if she had just become the beast herself. Her lips tried to shove against his like she meant to swallow him whole. His mind fought to break free, but logic was slipping, melting, fraying into nothing. Every hair on his body stood on end as her arms tightened, her fingers ghosting over his back in a slow, deliberate caress. The sweet, teasing flicks of her tongue traced over his lips, coaxing, tempting, begging for entry. The scent of her—dangerous, addictive—made his restraint crack, made his jaw slacken, and made him want to let her consume him whole. Lethia's lips rubbed against his with a slow, insistent, hypnotic grind that sent shivers down his spine. His eyelids grew heavy, lulled by the intoxicating pulse in her touch. With this kind of force, not even his pill could keep the beast inside him on a leash anymore. With what little sanity he had left, he knew—once he opened his lips, it was over. No restraint. No logic. Just hunger. Just instinct. Just the beast inside, snarling to be let loose. And then it happened—his lips parted, a breath shuddering through his teeth, and Lethia struck. Her tongue shoved past his lips, forcing its way into his mouth with a twisting, devouring frenzy. The slick heat of her, the way she claimed him, had his body locking up, muscles coiled tight like a predator cornered—only he wasn't the hunter anymore. She was. And fuck if that didn't set him on fire. Renar, already too far gone to think, buried his fingers in her hair and wrenched her in, crushing the last inch of space between them. Her tongue was too fucking sweet—too intoxicating—and he took it with a hunger that bordered on savage, like he could rip her very soul straight from her tongue. The hospital bed jolted beneath her as Lethia shifted, kneeling higher without breaking the fevered clash of their lips. His grip on her waist turned brutal, possessive—his body refusing to let go. She was penetrating his system now, tangled in his veins, and there was no ripping her out. Not now. Not ever. The wet clash of their lips echoed in the room, each greedy suck a battle for dominance. Renar reveled in the sheer loss of control, drowning in the addiction that was Lethia's taste. In that blurred, fuck-starved moment, nothing else mattered—he just wanted to lose himself in the wicked temptation sprawled before him. Just when he was certain the woman in his arms was drowning them both in lust-drunk surrender, her entire body jerked. She shoved him back—hard. His body hit the ground with a thud, air punching from his lungs. Breathless. Seething. Wild-eyed. She snapped— "I TOLD you to STOP!"

Chapter 13: Shameless

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