The Last Lycan King Is My Slave novel Chapter 251

The Origin of the Curse

ISIDORA

Mist curled around my boots as I walked beneath the moon.

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I could still hear the distant sounds of the party going on at the palace, but none of it mattered to me.

The only thing I regretted was leaving Elessia behind.

I’d found her asleep in my room. I knew she’d been crying, and all I could do was tuck her in and apologize.

I apologized because I felt like the worst friend in the world. Because I was about to leave her again.

And this time… maybe forever.

I found the cemetery in the woods behind the castle, in an area overgrown with weeds and thornbushes.

No one seemed to come out here to tend the cold graves.

I climbed over a tall, rust-covered iron fence and landed firmly on the other side, then kept moving with the dead beneath my feet.

The graveyard silence was broken only by the distant sound of water flowing through the moat.

I drew my sword. I could feel her restless energy, as if she were trying to tell me something.

“Lead me to the hiding place. I know Valezka hid the missing pages here…” I whispered to Sonya, who I’d come to think of as a living being.

The salty breeze kept moving through the weeping willows bent over the motionless statues.

Step by step, guided by my wolf’s instincts and Sonya’s crackling energy, I reached the central crypt.

It towered beneath the moon, carved from white stone, with a high, domed roof.

There it was above the door, carved into the stone… Valezka’s Estingia seal.

I didn’t know why Blaze’s mother had chosen such a creepy place for her portrait, but I was about to find out.

The tall iron gate wasn’t easy to get through, but the moment I noticed the strange shape of the opening, I slid the pommel of my sword into it without hesitation.

Every step felt like it was taking me closer to the end.

With a screech that chilled my blood, the gate swung open, and I finally stepped inside the mysterious crypt.

Cold darkness met me on the other side. I’d barely taken one step when the gate slammed shut behind me.

“Well, I guess there’s no way out now… All I can do is keep going…”

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The Last Lycan King Is My Slave

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So I did. I followed the marble hallway and went down a flight of stairs that seemed to lead straight into the underworld.

“The energy in here is so heavy, every hair on my body is standing on end.” I grimaced at Varka’s growl.

“Tell me about it…” I muttered.

But our complaints died the moment we reached the heart of the crypt.

Moonlight poured through a skylight at the top of the dome, bathing a tomb in the center of the chamber and the enormous statue standing over it.

I looked up at the marble woman holding a baby in her arms. She was breathtaking, but also… so sad.

The circular chamber held only that tomb and the statue above it. Tapestries covered the stone walls from end to end.

I studied them one by one. They showed lycans, always with women at their sides.

The women had different hair colors, facial features, and skin tones.

Some were smiling. Others were crying…

I had a feeling they’d all ended up dead, and I was heading straight for the same fate, one more woman in those tapestries.

“There! I can feel energy like Sonya’s coming from the statue’s pedestal!”

Varka guided me again, and we found a hidden compartment at the back of the enormous statue’s base.

Once again, I used the pommel of my sword. With a sharp crack, a marble drawer popped open.

I carefully pulled it out, and there they were… the missing pages from Valezka’s journal.

“If someone went to this much trouble to hide them here, there had to be a reason.”

I took them carefully in my hands and sat on the floor, leaning against that lonely marble sarcophagus.

This was the end of a tragic story.

“After gathering all the notes left behind by the other queens, researching, and traveling to remote places throughout the realm, I finally found an ancient temple of the Goddess that had been forgotten.

I don’t know how many years it had stood at the top of that mountain.

All I know is that my belly was already huge from the pregnancy, and getting all the way up there was incredibly hard.

My King had been away from the palace. I hadn’t seen him in almost a month, though sometimes I could feel him stalking somewhere nearby.

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The Last Lycan King Is My Slave

I was running out of time.

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Among the crumbling writings inside that forgotten temple, a blind old woman showed me an ancient legend that finally made the whole curse make sense.

It didn’t say it outright… but I knew it was the origin of our curse.»

I turned the page with trembling fingers and read Valezka’s transcription of the legend.

At last, I knew the truth.

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The Last Lycan King Is My Slave

The Origin of the Curse I

ISIDORA

“Amaris was the Moon Goddess Selene’s most devoted servant.

Day after day, she cleaned Selene’s altar in the temple.

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Every morning, she wandered through the cold mountains, gathering the most beautiful flowers for her Goddess.

Even when it snowed, her reddened hands searched beneath layers of frost until she found the tender buds of wildflowers.

Day after day, she proved her devotion in every small gesture.

And night after night, she prayed for the miracle of being able to bear children.

Bitter years passed, and Amaris still couldn’t give her Alpha heirs.

She shed so many desperate tears at the feet of the Moon Goddess that Selene decided to grant her most loyal servant a miracle.

One morning, Amaris woke with two symbols marked on her belly.

A beautiful, delicate blue lotus.

And a striking, powerful red fleur-de-lis.

She’d been blessed with two baby girls in her womb.

Maevra. The powerful female who wielded an inner magic unlike any other, a force that bloomed every time her wolf roared a challenge.

Even the males came to fear it.

Liora. The delicate Omega, as beautiful as a lotus reborn each morning, but so fragile that even the gentlest breeze could make her tremble.

But the Goddess was fair.

One received strength, but not the gift of conceiving easily.

The other received beauty, but no strength or power of her own. And she was given a priceless treasure whose true potential no one understood at the time…

The ability to carry the children of the most powerful werewolf race in her womb.

The lycans.

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The Last Lycan King Is My Slave

There were few lycans.

Their seed and blood were too powerful for ordinary she-wolves.

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Many couldn’t conceive. Others lost their pups before birth, and some died trying to bring them into the world.

Their race was slowly nearing extinction.

So Selene also gave a gift to her most powerful children.

A gift they didn’t know how to appreciate.

Maevra could protect herself.

Liora was destined to be protected by her mate.

But all she ever got from him was betrayal.

Odran Grimwald was her fated mate. Her perfect king.

And she was the queen carrying the next lycan heir in her womb.

But Liora’s beauty wasn’t enough to hold Odran’s gaze.

He liked strength, not softness.

He wanted a woman who’d follow him into battle, one who’d drive him wild in bed.

Not a delicate flower that would wilt at the first rough touch.

The mate bond didn’t matter…

It wasn’t Liora’s beauty that captivated Odran. It was Maevra’s strength.

And Maevra wanted him too.

Why should she be nothing but a warrior while her weak sister took the queen’s place?

On the night the sky was stained with curses, Liora found them in her own bed.

They hadn’t just given themselves to each other.

They were also planning her death.

As long as Liora and the heir remained alive, Maevra could never truly take her place.

The pain of the betrayal hit Liora so hard that she doubled over screaming as blood began to run down her legs and her child’s life began to fade inside her.

Odran couldn’t have two queens.

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The Last Lycan King Is My Slave

Two women claiming a place at his side.

And that night, he had to decide…

Odran chose strength.

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He believed that with all her magic, Maevra could give him another heir. One even more powerful.

High above that dark, frozen abyss, Liora’s body hung over the void.

Her bloodstained robe whipped around her in the icy gusts.

Scarlet tears streamed from her eyes as the lycan’s claws dug into her neck.

He’d sworn to protect her.

He’d sworn to love her forever.

And yet, he showed no mercy, not even to the son still dying inside her womb.

Behind the Lycan King, Maevra watched her, eyes full of delight.

She had won.

What good was beauty if it meant nothing but weakness?

When Odran opened his claws and Liora fell into the abyss, murdered by her mate and her own sister, a crazed laugh rang through the mountains like a sinister promise.

She cursed them.

She cursed them beneath the Goddess’s light for the cruelty of what they’d done, for betraying a sacred bond and not even sparing her baby’s life.

And Selene heard her…

When Liora’s body fell into that forgotten valley, an enormous, dark, twisted tree rose high into the sky.

Its branches looked like claws reaching for the heavens, toward the cliff where the Lycan King and his new queen still stood.