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Chapter 239: Chapter 239 Vincent cunning plan
"It’s okay, Ky-Ky," Lucas whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with affection. "I’m okay."
But Damon, who had been frozen in place, his mind reeling from Kyra’s words, suddenly felt a wave of regret wash over him. He had thought that winning this fight, proving his strength, would make Kyra see him as the rightful mate. But seeing her now, cradling Lucas so tenderly, he realized how wrong he had been. His victory had not drawn Kyra closer to him; it had only pushed her further away.
As if to mock him further, Lucas, still weak but conscious, looked up at Damon with a sly smile and gave a subtle wink. Damon’s anger flared once more, his fists clenching at his sides. How could Lucas, even in this condition, still manage to infuriate him?
Lucas, however, couldn’t help but smile inwardly. He knew Kyra’s heart better than anyone. She was kind to a fault, always caring for those who were hurt or vulnerable. Winning her affection wasn’t about brute strength or dominance; it was about understanding her, about knowing that she would always care more for the injured than the victor.
And it wasn’t just Lucas’s intuition that had led him here. Vincent, ever the strategist, had warned him before leaving. "If Damon challenges you while I’m gone, don’t worry about winning," Vincent had said, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "Just make sure you get hurt enough that Kyra will pity you. Even if Damon becomes her mate, he’ll only face her coldness afterward."
Vincent had been right, as usual. Long live my dear snaky you’re da best, Lucas thought with a grin, feeling a surge of triumph that had nothing to do with the fight. All that mattered was Kyra, her soft touch, her gentle heart. Win or lose, he had what was most important: her love.
Damon, still kneeling on the ground, froze as he watched them. His hands clenched into fists, knuckles turning white. He had never expected Lucas to be so cunning, to turn the situation to his advantage even in defeat. Damon realized, too late, that he had underestimated Lucas. The wolf had played his cards perfectly, drawing Kyra’s affection even deeper through his apparent vulnerability.
With Kyra’s support, Lucas slowly stood, feeling much stronger than before. Her healing had done wonders, and though he was still sore, he knew he would be fine. He gave Kyra a grateful smile, one filled with warmth and affection, and she returned it, her eyes reflecting the same emotions, Damon stood up numbly. 𝔫𝖔𝔳𝖕𝖚𝔟.𝔠𝔬𝖒
The leader Marc, who had been observing the situation, finally stepped forward. His expression was stern as he approached the trio.
But as the leader marc approached, murmurs spread through the crowd. A powerful beastman, watching the scene unfold, shook his head in disbelief. "That female is crazy! She should have embraced Damon and accepted him as her mate for winning the combat."
Another beastman, softer in demeanor, disagreed. "No! It’s true love. That female loves the weaker male so much. Only someone who has experienced the pain of rejection can understand that. I feel happy for them."
"Crazy or not," a third voice chimed in, "it’s not our place to judge. The law is the law."
The leader marc finally reached Kyra, Lucas and Damon, his gaze shifting between them before settling on Kyra. "Female, Damon won the combat. According to the law of the beast world, you must accept Damon as your mate."
Kyra, still holding Lucas close, nodded, her voice steady but lacking the enthusiasm Damon had hoped for. "I will accept him."
But as the words left her lips, Damon didn’t feel the triumph he had expected. There was no rush of happiness, no sense of victory. Instead, he felt hollow, as if something crucial was missing. He had made Lucas lose, but at what cost? Kyra’s heart was still with Lucas, and Damon could see that clearly now. Winning the combat had not won him Kyra’s love—it had only earned him a hollow victory.
Damon’s gaze drifted to Lucas, who stood by Kyra’s side, his expression content despite his injuries. Lucas’s small sly smile returned, as if to say, You may have won the fight, but I still have what matters most.
And Damon knew, deep down, that he had lost something far more important than a battle.
Kyra’s voice was calm but firm as she addressed the leader. "Leader, my mates, Damon and Lucas, are both injured. We will take our leave," she said, her lips curling into a polite smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
The leader, sensing the tension in the air, nodded with quiet understanding. "Sure, sure," he replied, waving his hand dismissively, allowing them to go. As Kyra turned to go, she cast a quick glance at the healer and the priest, offering them a small, reassuring smile. They returned her gesture with nods.
The crowd, which had gathered eagerly to witness the combat, began to disperse, some murmuring among themselves while others lingered, watching as Kyra took control of the situation with an unexpected grace.
With a deep breath, Kyra looked at Lucas, his ocean-blue eyes meeting hers with a mixture of relief and lingering tension. He stood close to her, but she could feel the strain in his posture, the weariness from the fight. Then, her gaze shifted to Damon, who still stood a few steps away, his silver eyes locked on Lucas, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling behind them.
Kyra knew this couldn’t continue. The rivalry, the constant tension—it was tearing them all apart. They couldn’t keep fighting like this, especially not for her. She took a step closer to Damon, who had yet to relax his stance. Slowly, deliberately, she extended her free hand toward him.
For a moment, Damon hesitated. His sharp eyes flicked to hers, surprise evident in his expression. He was unsure, his gaze searching hers, looking for something—perhaps an answer, perhaps reassurance. But as Kyra’s hand remained outstretched, he finally gave in. Damon’s fingers wrapped around hers, and as their hands intertwined, the tension in his body seemed to ease, if only slightly.
