Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 124

**Fireflies in Winter Rain — Neil A. Varma**
**Chapter 124**

Roana.

A sharp, agonizing jolt of pain shot through my spine, as if a merciless needle had been driven deep into my flesh. It yanked me from the depths of sleep, my body jerking violently, while my mind struggled to catch up with the reality that enveloped me. The world around me was cloaked in an oppressive darkness that felt almost tangible.

The cold air sliced against my skin, raising goosebumps that prickled like tiny needles. My wrists felt as though they were bound tightly behind a chair—at least, that was the impression I had. The burning sensation that radiated from them made it difficult to breathe, each inhale hitching painfully in my throat. Whatever confined me—whether it was rope or something more sinister—seemed to both itch and sear my skin simultaneously. As I shifted, just a fraction, the pain flared hotter, forcing a thin gasp to escape my lips.

I took a careful breath, my chest tightening as an unmistakable scent invaded my senses.

Black Moon Flower and Wolfsbane. The two elements that could sap my strength and leave me vulnerable.

My heart plummeted, the sensation so violent it felt as if it had collided with my ribs. My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out all other sounds.

Whoever was behind this knew me intimately. They understood my weakness for Black Moon Flower—Wait.

“Keane?”

The name slipped from my lips before I had a chance to restrain it.

“Keane?”

Rye’s voice echoed my own, our voices merging in a haunting harmony. A chill spread through me, deeper than the room’s oppressive cold, as the realization settled in. So, Reane had been tailing me, expressing concern, loyalty—perhaps even love. But was it all merely a facade? Had he been biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to betray me? Or worse, to cage me?

My chest constricted painfully, each breath becoming more shallow, as panic threatened to overwhelm me.

Just as my thoughts spiraled into chaos, a sudden movement made me flinch. The unmistakable sound of a door creaking open drew my attention, and heavy footsteps followed—deliberate yet cautious, as if the intruder was trying to avoid detection.

“Be careful. I heard she is a pure-blooded Silver Wolf. A daughter of the Mortia Clan,” a male voice whispered as he approached.

“No wonder that bastard made her his Luna Queen. Master said she’s important. Not to hurt her,” another voice chimed in, a hint of urgency lacing their tone.

“I’m surprised Sir Keane has lasted this long. I thought the Lycan would have caught him right away,” a third voice added, disbelief hanging in the air.

I felt my breath stutter in my chest. They knew Keane.

I strained to focus, attempting to catch a glimpse of their faces through the darkness, but suddenly, the light flickered on. I squeezed my eyes shut instinctively—not just out of reflex, but with intent. I forced my breathing to slow, my body to go limp, pretending to be unconscious while my heart raced violently in my chest.

“Gosh… she really is a Mortia. She’s paler than snow,” one of them remarked, a hint of awe in his voice.

Are they referring to me?

“No wonder she’s the mate of that Lycan. Even Lady Elle would seem smaller beside her.” Their presence inched closer, their scents invading my senses. My fingers twitched helplessly behind the chair, bound and useless.

“Don’t get too close. Sir Keane will kill us,” one warned, panic creeping into his tone.

“Shut up. Just look at her. Didn’t the spy say she was ugly? She looks like a princess. Have you seen the Queen of Mortia? Her mother? They’re all terrifyingly beautiful, despite their size.”

“You’re calling her beautiful? You must need your eyes checked.”

“Don’t believe me? Look closer.”

A jolt of shock rippled through me, sharp and disorienting. Were they testing me? Trying to gauge my reaction? Or had they genuinely lost their senses?

“Ah… unbelievable. She’s not as beautiful as Lady Elle, but she’s perfect for that Lycan bastard. The Moon Goddess must have a twisted sense of humor. No wonder he’s head over heels for her.”

They stepped back, scoffing at their own remarks. “She’s more attractive than her family members though. Especially the princess. Her eldest brother is a notorious lady-killer. I heard even Lady Elle has inquired about her.”

My breath left me in a sharp, audible gasp.

“Elle?” The name escaped my lips before I could think to suppress it.

She regarded me as though I had uttered a curse, irritation flashing across her features before she quickly masked it. “So, it seems you know about me.”

Shock crashed into me like a tidal wave, leaving me cold and unsteady. This woman bore no resemblance to Carolyn. She was ten times more beautiful, and in comparison, I felt utterly insignificant.

Cassian’s lover truly embodied the essence of her name.

She was deserving of his affection.

“You are so beautiful,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could rein them in. They sounded wrong—tight, strained—more laced with jealousy than genuine admiration.

Her expression darkened instantly. “Yes. Still, he remained silent for five long years. And now he starts a war because of you? With that look?” Bitterness laced her words, sharp and raw.

My heart pounded painfully in my chest.

But why was she pregnant? Why was she here, moving about freely? She didn’t appear to be a captive; she looked like—

My gaze fell to her left wrist.

A crescent mark intertwined with a moonflower shimmered faintly against her skin, flickering under the harsh light of the room.

My chest tightened with a breathless intensity.

She was marked.