The Lycan King's Forbidden Craving novel Chapter 250

250: The seated king

Not real.

This is not real. You’re simply hallucinating, Valoreth. Perhaps you fell asleep in your chamber and haven’t woken up yet.

This is just another nightmare.

Duncan Thornevale isn’t sitting on his fucking throne.

His gaze settled on Sahrak. The male was no longer breathing. Gore?

Judging by his state, Duncan must have been torturing him the entire time he’d gone missing.

Valoreth suddenly slapped his own face, the sound echoing through the vast hall.

“Wake up!” Slap. “Wake up!!!” Slap. “Wake up, goddammit!!!”

He screamed, And screamed. No longer slapping, now scratching at his own face until blood dripped to the floor.

The sting gave him a cruel reminder. Everything was real.

Duncan was still there, seeming to enjoy the show. How was this possible?

The poison should have killed him. Valoreth had seen the skulls. The bones. It had been seven years, so how was this possible?

Valoreth tried to gather the pieces. Tried to fish out every possibilities but, none came.

“Are you finished?” the male whose presence commanded the room asked. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, looking at the Alphas. “Why are you all still standing? Take a seat, Alphas. This is a royal gathering, after all.”

His voice was calm but none shouldn’t be deceived by it.

None moved. Too afraid.

Some even considered bolting, but the thought of those hounds chasing and tearing them apart, crushed that idea.

Those dire hounds are from myth. Faster than an Alpha in chase.

But one did step forward. Elder Varyn.

“Your Grace,” the old male said, bowing before taking a seat.

The Alphas glanced at one another. Then, one by one, they stepped forward and sat. All still pale from what was unfolding. Blood running cold.

Then stood Lord Valoreth alone. Ragged breaths tearing through the silence. Shaking. Eyes wide.

“You’re dead,” he croaked. “I have your skull in my chamber. This is not possible.”

Duncan scoffed and rose to his feet, boots thudding gently as he stepped down the small stairs.

He snapped his fingers, signaling his hounds not to follow.

“I must admit. I underestimated you, Valoreth. All the stunts you pulled. The lives you’ve taken, including your own wife. The ones you’ve broken. The homes you’ve crushed. And the manipulating schemes you planned in the dark,” he said, approaching the Lord of the South, who refused to look up, whispering incoherent words to himself.

“Not real,” Valoreth murmured. The footsteps stopped.

Duncan stood before him. The air seized.

Suddenly, the king’s thick hand shot out, clamping his jaw and pulling him close. His grip was like iron.

1/3

হ

250. The seated king

“Look at me. Valoreth,” he growled.

Valoreth averted his gaze, refusing. But the king’s grip tightened, ready to crush his jaw.

“Look. At. Me.” A command laced with Alpha will.

It forced Valoreth’s eyes open, locking onto the golden–red ones staring back at him like death itself.

Only then did Valoreth come to his senses. It was real. Unmistakable.

+25 BONUS

“Seven years you stole from me, and I shall return the favor in sevenfold. You will seek death, and it will not come until I command it. You and every last one who has caused this realm pain, will go down to hell.”

Some Alphas shifted in their seats, swallowing hard at the king’s words. Especially the one who claimed the realm will have no salvation.

The air grew thick with tension.

Elder Varyn smiled warmly.

Oh, this is going to be good.

Meanwhile, in the dark woods, Damaris watched his pack of rogues sharpening their swords. Among them were vampires, rogue Lycans, and even mages.

Some were soldiers from various packs, forced to join a massacre disguised as a so–called cleansing.

The armies numbered three thousand, spread across different wings. They would rage, burn homes, kill, to anything to create terror and make this night memorable.

One that will brand into the hearts of the realm.

They shall write a bloody history tonight.

Damaris knew this path was wrong, malevolent. But this was only going to affect a few packs, the ones that still clung to the late Duncan’s side.

The packs spreading rumors about mysterious silver–haired people helping them. They would be made an example of.

If the silver–haired devils were truly here, he’d love to see them appear and challenge them.

“My Lord,” a young soldier approached, trembling slightly as though it had taken a great deal of courage to come forward.

“Speak.”

“I… Is it true we… are raiding the packs near Frost Mountain?”

Damaris raised a brow. “Yes, why?”

The young soldier gasped and immediately dropped to his knees, unshed tears in his eyes.

“My Lord…..my mother and sister live around there… Can… can we please not go there?”

Damaris scoffed. “Your family will be safe,” he said. The young soldier smiled, but it died at his next words. “If they stay indoors and away from the hungry rogues. Their safety doesn’t matter as long as the realm gets its cleansing.”

The young soldier’s face went pale.

Damaris placed a hand on his shoulder. “You swore your loyalty to the throne. Making a little sacrifice for it shouldn’t be a problem, don’t you think?”

“My Lord…”

213

250 the sooted king

“Or you can simply try to protect them, and have the hungry rogues end you as well.”

Damaris rose, leaving the soldier on his knees, eyes wide with horror.

He walked toward an old soldier he recognized, one of the few who had survived the recent war with the Ouroboros.

“My Lord,” the old male bowed.

+25 BONUS

“Well, I’ve been wondering,” Damaris crossed his arms. “You know… about the recent war. Lately, I’ve heard there are some silver–haired ones lurking in the Moon Realin. Didn’t you say they were all killed?”

A Lycan soldier stepped in. “Yes, my Lord. Every last one of them.

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” Damaris snapped at him, then turned back to the old male. “Go on. Explain while I listen to your heartbeat. Did you really end every Ouroboros? Did you really win that war?”

The old male kept his gaze low, silent for a few beats before finally speaking.

“We did, Your Highness.” He slowly lifted his gaze to Damaris.

Silence shrouded the space between them. Then came a soft chuckle from Damaris.

“Give me a complete answer, old man. I’m not here to play games with you.”

The old male swallowed hard. Only then did Damaris see it.

The tear in his expression. The racing heartbeat. The sweat. The crack in his strong facade exposing the lies beneath.

Damaris‘ head spun. It was all a lie? No… that couldn’t be.

“My Lord…”

Damaris‘ hand shot out, clamping around the Lycan soldier who tried to speak. The crack of the neck neck bone echoed.

“Another fucking word from you and I’ll tear you to pieces!” he roared. “Fuck. I should’ve known. I saw the signs but ignored them. So what happened, huh? You didn’t kill them all? Did you get some nerve, kill your own kind, come back, and lie to us? What the fuck did you guys do?! What the hell happened in that war?!”

Then a soft voice came from within the shadows of the forest.

“I killed them.”

Damaris froze, so did the others. The voice… familiar. One he never dreamed of hearing again.

Then, ever so slowly, he turned his head toward the dark woods where gentle footsteps echoed.

A pair of silver eyes pierced through the darkness. Slowly, she stepped into the light, her face finally revealed.

Damaris went pale, muttering, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”