The Lycan King's Forbidden Craving novel Chapter 190

Chapter 190: Out of the Citedal

That stage where nothing matters anymore. Death, torture hate–all because the mind has stopped functioning,

and the heart is numb.

Just like when she was with Lylah. Brigid had been ready to die by her hands; she had started this mess.

Now, with Toran’s hands around her throat, she felt nothing.

Kill me, Toran. End this pain.

Her hands went limp, and she closed her eyes, anticipating the end.

But Toran snapped out of his madness and released her.

She dropped to her knees, coughing.

“Tell me the truth, Brigid,” he growled. “Or I’ll make you talk. It’s the full moon–I planned to be gentle tonight. Don’t make me change my mind.”

Wait… he still wanted to sleep with her? No.

“It was me!” she blurted.

His expression shifted.

“I stabbed myself with a dagger coated in wolfsbane. I wanted to ruin my womb so I wouldn’t carry your child. I didn’t care if I died.”

Toran paled, eyes wide.

“No… why would you do that?” he asked, pulling her into an embrace. “I can’t lose you, Brigid. I’m sorry for everything. I don’t know how to fight the madness inside my head.”

He pressed kisses into her hands, tears welling in her eyes.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

A part of her wanted to believe him, but the memories of pain and fear lingered.

A sob escaped her lips.

He cupped her face, wiping her tears.

“I won’t touch you tonight,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “I’ll get the healers. Wait here.”

Then he left, shutting the door behind him.

Brigid broke down, tears flowing as she sank to her knees.

The world narrowed to darkness and silence, broken only by the faint creak of wood and the occasional clang of iron wheels on cobblestone.

Lylah lay completely still, every breath measured. The discomfort made her dizzy from the lack of air.

The vial Lord Atheon had given her worked just as he promised.

Her senses were muted, dull enough to pass as lifeless if any wolf tried to sniff her out. The scent of herbs and preserved goods wrapped around her like a coffin.

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Chapter 190: Out of the Citedal

A jolt nearly made her flinch.

Voices echoed faintly above-

“And where is this one going?” a gruff soldier asked.

“To the North. Lord Atheon’s new estate,” the handler replied. “Extra crates of fruits and herbs for the moon rituals. Here’s the king’s permission.”

A long pause followed.

“Funny. Doesn’t smell like just fruits.”

Lylah’s heart dropped.

A sharp knock against the crate–twice. Her body tensed.

Shit. She almost made a sound.

“Open it,” the soldier ordered.

The handler sighed and opened the box. The cart had two layers; the top concealed all the goods.

The guard leaned in, sniffing. “Strong scent.”

“That’s dried bloodroot and preserved moonroot. You ever sniff that up close? Burns your damn nose off. The Lord’s wolves use it to keep parasites out of their fur,” the handler explained.

“Disgusting,” the soldier grunted.

Lylah remained motionless beneath the second layer, her heart racing.

“Fine. Move it,” the gruff male finally said, and Lylah silently thanked the stars.

The cart rolled out of the Citadel.

Minutes turned into hours. Lylah began to lose her mind but remembered Atheon’s warning: wait for the handler’s signal.

Don’t move until then.

Still, the smell was suffocating. She fought against the darkness creeping in, struggled to keep her eyes open, but the lack of air made it impossible.

She passed out cold.

The cart stopped abruptly, jolting Lylah awake, though her eyes barely stayed open.

“Hope to the gods she’s still alive,” the handler’s urgent voice reached her.

The rustling of offloaded goods brought relief. Sunlight kissed her face, and she groaned at the sting.

Hands reached in and pulled her out. Black spots danced in her vision, and her stomach twisted.

She threw up by a nearby tree.

Inhaling crap for hours might actually make her sick. Even Nyx might not help.

“Here. Take this medicine and drink plenty of water. You need to flush the toxins out,” the handler instructed.

Lylah snatched the items from him and took them without hesitation. The medicine burned her throat, and she

quickly followed it with gulps of watet.

vendased onto a nearby stone, trying to catch her breath

*This is where we part ways,” the older man said. “Get rest Eat. Then move on and stay far, far away from here There’s a town close by small and barely known. Find an ion and spend the night there

He handed her money, wolfsbane—just in case, clothes for fisguise and a horse.

“If I were you, I’d cut that hair,” he added as he climbed of his own borse

Lylah clenched her jaw but mattered, “Thanks Give Lord Atheon my regards

“Very well.” He nodded, then rode off with the soldiers.

Lylah found the small inn in the nearby town. Modest but nageable. She kept her twins–braided hair hidden beneath her doak as she booked a small room, a size like the one in the Citadel she’d spend the night and

continue tomorrow.

She caught sight of a small mirror and recalled what the handler said about her long braids.

The reason she never cut them was tucat

I had been six years, and she had found no trace of him. Nothing

Sighing, Lylah grabbed one brand. With a try heart, the gan sa cut

In a few minutes, she was done they but was now short for grefert, but still cool

*We still look badass, Ny commented than Bite the short hate more*

Lylah didn’t respond. She just stared att brewed in the mir with one thought repeating is her head tikra drumbeat

She was going to dig through the entire damn world until she Ends Belanna,

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