The Mind-Reading Mate: Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me? Chapter 25: Husband, Speak!

Primrose’s fingers curled around the teacup as her heart stumbled over itself. His words were simple, too simple, yet they struck her like an arrow straight to the chest.

It wasn’t fair.

She shouldn’t be this easily moved. She should resent Edmund for everything he had done—or rather, everything he hadn’t done—in their past life. He had neglected her, made her believe he despised her.

But how could she hate him when the truth was so different from what she had thought?

It wasn’t fair. Not at all.

Because of his horrendous communication skills, their marriage had crumbled before it even had a chance to flourish, shattered into countless pieces.

But ... she had never tried to talk to him either. She had simply assud the worst and let the silence devour them both.

It was only now, looking at him, that she realized sothing that he wasn’t the only one who had ssed up.

She had chosen to believe all her negative thoughts rather than talking to him to clear things up.

She had let misunderstandings surround them instead of breaking them down.

She had let herself believe that he didn’t care ... instead of daring to ask if he did.

But still, he was more at fault than her!

If only he hadn’t acted like a grumpy wolf all the ti, maybe she wouldn’t have been too scared to talk to him!

That’s right!

The wife is never wrong!

She let out a sharp breath. Then, with a slight pout, she muttered, "Why didn’t you just tell this was a gift from you?"

Edmund frowned, as if the answer was obvious. "What for? It’s not important."

[The most important thing is that my wife looks happy.]

[Honestly, I didn’t even want to step foot in this greenhouse because I was afraid I’d ruin the flowers.]

[But I wanted to see her. And if I asked her to co to my room, she’d think I only cared about her body.]

Primrose tightened her grip on her fan. She was so done with this Lycan’s indifferent behavior!

Would it really kill him to just say things outright instead of standing there like a mute statue and letting her misunderstand him over and over again?!

Her patience finally snapped.

With a sharp thud, she slamd her palm against the table. The teacups clattered, a few pastries toppled onto the floor.

Then, she stood.

Her chair scraped against the floor as she rose, her sharp gaze locking onto Edmund like a hawk closing in on its prey.

[W-what just happened?!]

[Why does my wife suddenly look furious?!]

[Did I ss up again?!]

"Your Majesty," Primrose inhaled deeply, trying to keep her voice even, but her patience was hanging by a thread. "If you never tell what you’re thinking, how am I supposed to understand you?"

Edmund instinctively leaned back, looking similar to a guilty dog who had just been caught tearing up his owner’s shoes.

"You ... you want to understand ?" he asked cautiously, like he wasn’t sure if this was a trick question.

"Of course, I do!" Primrose shouted. Her voice echoed through the greenhouse.

Edmund froze on the spot, stiff as a board, not even daring to breathe.

"You’re my husband!" she continued, "How in the world are we supposed to be a proper husband and wife if I don’t know anything about you?!"

She jabbed a finger in his direction. "If you give sothing, you should at least tell that you’re the one who gave it!"

Her eyes narrowed. "What if one day I mistakenly assu the gift ca from another man instead of you?"

Edmund’s pupils dilated. His jaw clenched. His whole body went rigid. "NO."

His eyes widened slightly the mont he realized that he had just raised his voice at his wife.

He swallowed hard before quickly correcting himself. "I an ... I won’t let that happen."

Primrose finally lost her patience and shouted, "Then how am I supposed to understand your kindness if you never tell your intentions?!"

Her lips trembled slightly as her emotions filled her heart, but when she spoke again, her tone was softer, almost pleading.

"What if ... one day, I start believing that you hate ? That you’ve always despised because you speak to so coldly, because you act so indifferent toward , because you never tell when you do sothing for my sake?"

Her fingers curled tightly into her palms as she whispered, "What if our marriage falls apart ... just because you’re too much of a coward to talk to ?"

What the hell was she thinking when she let all those words spill from her lips?

She had planned to take things slowly, to be patient, to teach the Lycan King how to communicate over ti.

But it was exhausting.

Maybe she was just tired. Tired of holding it all in. Tired of dealing with the endless misunderstandings, the cold silence, the weight of a love that had never been spoken aloud.

After all, she had just died a few days ago alone in her bedroom, because Edmund had left the palace to handle a war between two tribes.

He had been gone for three months. And he hadn’t even known that his wife was dying in her bed.

He hadn’t known because she never told him.

Primrose had ordered the doctors and her ladies-in-waiting not to send word, convinced it wouldn’t matter. Convinced that Edmund wouldn’t care even if he knew.

Because, back then, she truly believed he had never cared at all.

But now ... now she couldn’t help but wonder—

What if she had sent him a letter, told him she was sick? Would he have co back to the palace for her? Would he have dropped everything and rushed to her side?

And when he did return to the palace and found her lifeless body waiting for him, what kind of expression had he made?

She was so damn tired of this endless cycle of silence and miscommunication.

She wanted him to know that his silence had always felt like a dull knife, slicing through her heart little by little.

"I have never despised you." Edmund finally spoke after a long silence. "I would never hate you."

[My wife is right. I’m just a coward.]

[But I’m afraid that if I speak too much, I’ll say the wrong thing. If I reach for her, she’ll pull away.]

[Afraid that if I let her see all of my feelings ... she’ll leave .]

"Then show ," Primrose murmured, her voice trembling slightly. She lowered her head, biting her lip. "Because, Your Majesty, every ti you speak to so coldly or act like I don’t exist ... it hurts."

She swallowed hard before continuing, her tone softer now. "I know I don’t an much to you, but—"

"You an a lot to ." Edmund’s words ca sharp and sudden, making Primrose caught off guard. "You’re important to , my wife."

Primrose sat back in her chair, staring at Edmund for a mont, making sure he had actually spoken those words out loud and not just in his mind.

Her gaze softened. "You’re not upset that your mate is just a human?"

Edmund shook his head without the slightest hesitation. "Not even for a second."

[Why would I care that she’s human?]

[That doesn’t change anything. No matter where she cos from, she’s my wife.]

Primrose observed him for a long mont before huffing and pointing her fan directly at his face. "Then stop frowning like that!"

She pursed her lips, tapping the fan against her palm. "You should smile more. From now on, every ti you see , I want you to smile!"

"If you don’t ...," She hesitated for a beat before adding, "then I’ll cry!"

[No! I’d rather die than let my wife shed a single tear!]

Without a mont’s hesitation, Edmund forced a smile, but the mont Primrose saw it, she flinched and instinctively leaned back.

That ... that wasn’t a smile. That was the kind of expression a murderer would wear while chasing his prey.

She hid behind her fan and shouted, "No! Not that smile! Not that one!"