The Mind-Reading Mate: Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me?!

[How can such a weak human like her become the Lycan King's mate?]

Huh?

Primrose blinked several times, staring at herself in the mirror.

Something felt off.

She reached out, touching her crimson hair, and running her fingers through the wavy strands. 'Why is my hair still long?'

Her golden eyes widened as she leaned closer to the mirror. Her skin looked healthy because it still felt soft, smooth, and glowing.

That wasn't right.

The last time she checked, her body had been wasting away, her once-vibrant hair falling out in clumps, and her skin looked as pale as a ghost.

[Why is her body so thin? Her breast size is decent, but her butt … hah … pathetic.]

Primrose froze.

Slowly—very slowly—she turned her head and locked eyes with her lady-in-waiting, Leah Blanton, a woman with a pair of fox-like ears perched atop her head.

The same Leah Blanton who had died two years ago.

Her breath caught in her throat. Reflexively, she stumbled backward, slamming into the dressing mirror with a loud crash.

"Why are you here?!" she shrieked.

Leah frowned, clearly unbothered.

But Primrose's mind was in chaos because Leah had died two years ago.

She was crushed under a carriage that fell off a cliff.

And yet, here she was … alive, breathing, and insulting her butt?!

Her butt was perfect, okay?!

Maybe it lacked a little volume, but pathetic?!

How dare she?!

"What's wrong, Your Majesty?" Leah tilted her head, looking just as shocked as Primrose. "I'm here to help you change your clothes."

[What is wrong with her? She never opened her mouth since she got here, but suddenly she's screaming like a madwoman.]

[Great. Now the Queen of Noctvaris is nothing more than a lunatic.]

Primrose's stomach dropped. She could hear Leah's voice—loud and clear—yet the woman's lips never moved.

Was that even possible?!

"I think this purple nightgown suits you well, Your Majesty." Leah didn't seem the least bit concerned by Primrose's reaction.

Purple nightgown?

Primrose finally looked down at herself, and her face immediately stiffened.

Oh. Oh, hell no.

The fabric was practically see-through. The neckline plunged so low it was a miracle her breasts were still inside, and the thin straps clung to her shoulders so precariously that one wrong move would have her flashing the entire kingdom.

Her fingers twitched. This nightgown felt … familiar.

No. No way.

Her stomach twisted as the realization slammed into her.

She had worn this exact sheer purple nightgown on her wedding night.

Her lady-in-waiting had insisted she had to impress her husband, that she needed to wear something revealing, something that would awaken the beast in him.

And what had happened?

Instead of waking up his inner beast, the Lycan King had taken one look at her, turned on his heel, and walked away.

No hesitation. No second glance. Just a quick, "I have more important matters to attend to."

More important than her.

More important than ripping off her sheer purple nightgown and pinning her down with that infuriatingly hot, muscle-bound body of his.

Primrose immediately slapped her own face. What the hell was wrong with her?! This was not the time to be thinking about that beast's ridiculously hot body!

After that humiliating wedding night—the night her so-called husband abandoned her—Primrose had personally thrown this cursed nightgown into the fireplace. She had watched it burn.

So how in the world was it back?!

No. Wait.

Wait.

Was she the one who had come back instead?

Moments ago, she had been lying in bed, her body weakening as her illness consumed her, every breath more painful than the last. She remembered taking her final sip of medicine, the bitterness lingering on her tongue before everything faded into darkness.

The pain had vanished.

The world had gone silent.

Then ... she died.

She died on her 25th birthday.

Just three years after marrying the Lycan King.

And yet—

Why?!

Why was she here again? Alive? Wearing this damned nightgown?!

Her three years in the Beast Kingdom had been anything but sunshine and rainbows.

Every day had been suffocating.

She was drowning in scorn, whispers, and endless judgment.

They called her too weak to be their queen.

They said a human had no right to bear the title Queen of Beasts.

Well, Primrose agreed!

But it wasn't like she had a choice!

If they wanted someone to blame, they should blame the Moon Goddess for this ridiculous fate!

Why, of all creatures in existence, had she chosen a human to be the Lycan King's mate?!

Because of that divine mistake, the Emperor of Vellmoria had forced her father, Duke of Illvaris, to send her to the Beast Kingdom as a peace offering. She was a living, breathing symbol of the fragile truce between humans and beasts.

No one had asked if she wanted this life.

So, when death finally came for her, Primrose had welcomed it with open arms.

She had imagined herself running through flower fields in heaven, singing with angels, free at last.

She had even planned to collect a harem of gorgeous angelic men and let them worship her as their holy queen.

But instead of paradise ...

She was back in this hell.

Wearing this stupid nightgown.

No. NO. This had to be a mistake!

"What day is it?" she muttered, her voice eerily calm as she turned toward Leah.

Leah looked at her in confusion. "Today is Sunday, Your Majesty."

Primrose shook her head. "No, no, I mean the date … the year."

[Oh, poor girl … she's even lost her memory.]

That! That! She did it again!

At this point, Primrose seriously suspected that she could hear people's thoughts.

Wait.

Could she?

But how?

How had she suddenly gained this ability? Ever since she was born, she had never been able to awaken magic—her talents were nonexistent, and everyone had made sure to remind her of that.

So how in the name of the damn Moon Goddess did she go from magicless nobody to mind-reading freak?!

"You must be exhausted, Your Majesty." Leah's voice shattered her spiraling thoughts. "Today is October 4, 1576. Your very special day."

Primrose went completely still.

October 4, 1576.

Her breath hitched.

Tonight was her wedding night.

A strangled noise crawled up her throat. Then, she dropped to her knees dramatically.

Fists pounding against the floor, her head falling forward as a muffled scream of pure frustration escaped her lips.

"No, no, no …" She clawed at her crimson hair, fingers tugging through the strands as if she could yank herself out of this nightmare.

WHY?!

WHY DID SHE COME BACK TO LIFE?!

Who in their right mind would want to live through this hell a second time?!

One life was already unbearable, but two?!

FUCK.

As she screamed internally, she could still hear Leah's thoughts floating around so casually.

[Should I ask the guards to bring chains?]

[Hmm … but are we even allowed to restrain our queen?]

[Oh, poor His Majesty … his wife doesn't just have a flat butt, but she's also insane.]

Primrose snapped her head up with fury in her eyes.

Could she stop talking about her butt?!

Damn it, it wasn't even that flat!

"Your Majesty."

Primrose froze mid-breakdown as a soldier knocked on her door.

"His Majesty the King requests permission to enter."

Oh, hell no.

Leah practically lunged at Primrose, yanking her upright before hurriedly smoothing out her nightgown and fixing her hair.

"Your Majesty, you must behave in front of His Majesty," she whispered urgently. "He doesn't like women who are rude or unrefined."

[If only I were his mate, I would be far more graceful and composed than this pathetic human.]

This bitch.

In her first life, Primrose had known exactly what Leah Blanton was after. 

The woman had spent years trying to worm her way into the Lycan King's heart, hoping that if she couldn't be his queen, she could at least become his concubine. 

And if that happened, her father—Baron Blanton—would have the perfect excuse to climb the noble ranks.

Leah had always gone out of her way to make Primrose look bad in front of the Lycan King.

Primrose never cared how many concubines the Lycan King could take. In her past life, he hadn't taken a single one, maybe he was too busy, or maybe he simply wasn't interested.

Oh, who cared about that beast anyway?

But what she would not tolerate was someone stepping all over her just to get closer to him. That was where she drew the line.

Disgusting.

Primrose clenched her fists.

She had tolerated it once. But not this time.

"Get. Out." She smacked Leah's hand away.

Leah flinched, eyes widening in shock. "E-excuse me? Your Majesty—"

"I said get out." Primrose's voice turned cold. "His Majesty is about to enter. So why are you still here? Or—" Her lips curled into a slow, mocking smile. "Would you rather slip into a sheer nightgown and seduce him with me?"

Leah's entire body stiffened.

[What the hell is wrong with her?! One moment she's all soft and obedient, and the next, she's completely insane!]

Leah swallowed hard, then quickly lowered her head. "P-please forgive my rudeness, Your Majesty."

Primrose scoffed.

People loved to think they were better than her. They whispered their insults, and screamed them inside their own heads. But when confronted? They crumbled like dry leaves.

Leah, now visibly shaken, turned and fled.

Primrose exhaled sharply and threw herself onto the bed, her fingers tapping impatiently against her thigh.

What the hell is taking him so long?

She knew he was standing right outside. Leah had just left, so there was no reason for him to wait outside.

What, was he second-guessing whether or not to enter his own wife's chambers?

Knock. Knock.

"Your Majesty," the soldier's voice came again. "His Majesty requests permission to enter."

Primrose almost choked on air.

Oh, for the love of—was the Lycan King always this insufferable?!

"Your Majes—"

She cut the soldier off with a sharp glare toward the door.

"JUST GET IN!"