MTL - Rebirth: National Crown Prince - Chapter 75 chosen road

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.

A huge guy is bawling his eyes out. In this day and age? Sure, maybe the world changed while I was away in that other place. I’m not some old-fashioned boomer.But what if that guy is clinging to my pant leg, sobbing and sniffling—And we’re not even acquaintances?Even in modern times, that’s just messed up. Ask any passing kid, they’d agree.So yeah, I shook my leg. He was gross and too close.“The hell’s wrong with you? Crying just ’cause you saw a ghost?” “N-no! I swear, it was really there! You didn’t see it!!”I let the disrespect slide. Barely. He was asking for help and still talking down to me just because I look young?Obviously, I’m not the one who lost his balls. He is.And yet… when I looked where he pointed—Something was there.I threw some coarse salt and looked again.He stared at me like I was insane, but I ignored it.…Yeah. Something was definitely there.It made eye contact.

The novel Chronicles of the Hero of Frosimar is a story about the failures of the protagonist not the successes.“It’s not good.”The First Emperor, who conquered the whole world, closed his eyes with a brief appreciation (after reading the novel).But the moment he opened his eyes again, there were only a few lines about him in the Chronicles of the Hero of Frosimar.This was because he became an imprisoned prince who met death with his first appearance (in the novel).