Sold To A Cursed Lycan Prince

Sold To A Cursed Lycan Prince

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"I'm not your mate! I reject you! Evil!" He stepped closer like Aeryl was some dangerous animal. One moment, he was across the room. The next, his hand was around her neck, lightly but very threatening, resting her back into the far stone wall. Aeryl gasped, her breath scattering at the sudden, inhuman move. "Careful. You don't know what you're walking into, hybrid," Aramisius hissed, his lips grazing her ear. "You should know your enemies. I am one of them." "What... what do you want from me?" His eyes burned red-silver, unnatural light cutting into her. "All. Of. You." Warning: This book is 18+. There was no escape from him. Aeryl has always known her blood was dangerous. Born a hybrid, she was never fully human, never fully safe. When her father bargains her away to the powerful Lycan Lord, she chooses the only path left. Run and fight. But the night is not merciful. Aramisius rises at midnight: cruel, exquisite, and ancient. And now he has scented her. His mate. His curse-breaker. His obsession. Aeryl may think she can flee, but he does not chase. He hunts. Dragged into his rose-scented castle, Aeryl discovers that the greatest danger is not his cruelty but the way her body responds to him. Her wolf calms in his presence. As rival kings, witches, and shadows close in, Aeryl learns the truth too late: Every kingdom either wants her or fears her and the danger was never Aramisius. It was what would happen if she is taken from him. Can Aeryl find herself and stand against the armies and powers as the world begins to shift? This is not just another werewolf romance. It is dark erotica where bodies are claimed, love is sacrifice, and surrender is the most dangerous ecstasy of all.

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Kapitel 1

Chapter 1 - Runaway Bride

"Fuck you till your death, cursed lycan!"

The man's yells died the moment the lycan prince's bullets finally ran out.

He remained kneeled but half-dead. 

The prince stood and watched until the man's heart stopped beating. Then the man fell with a thud on the marble.

When the prince spoke, it was like the deepest rumble of thunder. It was dangerously gentle, rich and belly-tightening.

"Behead the traitor. Send my message to his king."

A dark hooded servant ran forward and took away the dead man who shapeshifted into a wolf.

Another servant handed the prince a kerchief as he took off his gloves.

Servants in black remained knelt and bowing.

"My lord." One said at last, raising his head. "Preparations are ready. By sundown, the girl will be delivered."

Prince Aramisius's silver-red eyes, slitted.

"Delivered like cattle? Does she come willingly?"

"No, my lord. They chose her... because you said if they did not...." The servant paused. "....their children would burn. She is not agreeing."

He gave a cold smile and said.

"Good. I prefer her unwilling."

Torches danced. 

The servants remained bowed and waiting.

Aramisius turned, cloak black like night. His fangs gleamed when he spoke.

"No," he said, voice low with a growl. "I will not wait until sundown."

He turned to the windows, staring out into the night and his eyes flashed hunger.

"She will not be delivered." He said. "I will take her. Tonight."

"A custom... my lord..." One voice began.

"Customs are for kings." He snapped, walking like a cat toward the door, hand settling on his hilt. "I am impatient."

His footsteps soon died. The doors slammed, his final words echoing.

Meanwhile, in a hidden corner, a pale woman in a white, overflowing gown had been watching through a window before she quietly and hurriedly disappeared into the night.

****

****

Aeryl folded into her sister’s arms, small and sobbing. Lilah rubbed her back, but the shivers would not stop.

"I can't believe father won't fight for me. Not even on this. He-he.... just sold me away. Like I'm some dog."

Lilah’s fingers trembled as they moved through Aeryl’s hair. "He can't fight the lycan prince. You know what they said. You're a chosen hybrid, Aeryl. If Father defies them.... if he refuses, he will cost us everything. He let the prince take.... uhm.... choose you to save the.... the village."

"Not chosen!" Aeryl spat, bitter and small. "Offered. Like a lamb."

Outside, torches shined as villagers prepared the road. Panic hurt Aeryl’s chest.

"I don't want to go. I can't go-"

Their mother stumbled into the room, apron stained, her face worn by the day's labor and grief. She fell to her knees and took Aeryl’s hands, gripping until her knuckles went white.

Aeryl reached for her, tears blurring everything.

"Please, Mother. Come with me. Please, come with me when they take me to the monster's kingdom."

"If I could, I would go with you into his castle," Ariana said, shaking. "But if I ask to leave, your father, he... he won't let me. He can't allow me do that. I tried. The prince will believe I'm intruding. I'll pray for you."

Aeryl’s blonde hair fell into her face. "So I go alone? To his castle? To be used and maybe killed while you hide behind prayers?"

Behind her, Lilah forced a smile. 

"Pray, little dove. Rest. If you sleep, you will not be too weak. I will pray till my voice fails."

"Prayers won't save me!" Aeryl cried out, bitterly.

Her mother quickly pressed a letter into her palm, their last letter, folded, warm from her touch.

"Keep this, child."

Outside, the lycan prince’s silver-red eyes glinted somewhere in the dark, already on the road. He was coming for sure. There was no escape.

Aeryl held the letter as if it comfort her. For a moment, it was only three of them and the truth which was that a twenty-year-old woman had been chosen so countless other villagers could live.

Aeryl’s and her mother sobbed. 

Lilah tried to hold them all together as she fought tears.

Aeryl wiped her face and forced herself to breathe steadily.

"You're right, Lilah. I'll rest, Mother. I'll need strength to survive him."

Her mother and sister kissed her forehead. Tears soaked her cheek. Promises of love. Soft goodnights.

She lay down, eyes closed, breath slowed as she pretended like she was asleep. The door shut. Silence came.

Moonlight spilled across her face and she made a promise.

She would not wait for death. She had a plan. She would run.

****

****

The prince fastened his leather coat, rich fur laid heavy across his large shoulders. He entered the far chamber of wine, moans, and bodies.

Cushions, courtesans, bare bodies. His brother and his friends laid among them, sweat dripping.

"My, my." Santos, his younger brother, drawled. "Here to join us? Or still drinking dogs in the kennels?"

Everyone laughed but as the prince's strict gaze lifted, there was instant silence.

"I waste no night. While you drown in trash, I go to claim what is mine." 

Santos smirked. "Ah, the hybrid lamb. Careful. Sometimes lambs bite."

A frown-like smile touched the prince's mouth. "Then I will enjoy it all the more."

He turned and left, aura chilling.

"Farewell, brother." Santos said over the music. 

****

****

The forest was so dark. Horses snorted, wheels cracked over roots, black-armored guards rode with banners snapping in the wind. 

To strangers, this was a scary parade.  To the Furtville villagers, it was a life sentence for their hybrid princess.

In the first carriage, the prince read a book worn out by centuries. His silver-red eyes flicked gently across the page while soldiers outside rode.

His caged wolfhound barked once. The prince's lifted his eyes, then returned them to the book.

"Not conquest. Necessity. The girl has to be mine. Bite me or no bite me." He murmured to himself and turned another page. "One must feed and never beg."

****

****

Aeryl heard those words in her dream.

Her eyes flew open. The ache in her tummy proved it was really his words.

"One must feed. And never beg."

Her eyes slitted with anger.

"Fuck you!" She snarled to herself. 

She looked at the clock. Two o'clock.

She got out of bed and dressed quickly. gown, a boot then her mother’s old coat. A bag waited: bread, meat, fruit, water, a small knife.

Her hands trembled, but not her strong will.

Aeryl tucked the letter her mother had given her into her coat's pocket.

She opened the window and then carefully sneaked out. The yard was very quiet.

Suddenly, a soft mewl sounded. Aeryl turned to see her small dog jumping toward her legs.

"Myrrh!" she whispered.

He pawed at her, whining. She pushed him back, tears burning her eyes. "Please, go back. If they hear you.... Sshh. Go back."

Her bedroom's light suddenly flicked on behind her.

She froze. Oh, no time.

She snatched Myrrh up and ran for the fence. Myrrh mewled again as if trying to warn her.

"Sshh...."

Aeryl clutched Myrrh, scrambled over the fence and fell on the wet grass.

The donkey she had tied down in preparation grazed.

Shakily, she began to loosen the noose she'd used to hold the animal in place.

A crash sounded from inside. A jug. A chair.

Her father's roar split the night.

"Aeryl!"

The donkey startled, ears flicking, but she seized its rope and pulled it close. 

Her father's voice thundered again. Closer.

No time. She threw herself onto the donkey's bare back, skirts tangling, and kicked hard.

"Go-go!"

The beast leapt forward, stones clattering. It jumped into the mud of the forest trail.

Branches smacked at her face. 

Her heart pounded louder than the hoofbeats. Myrrh whimpered against her chest, but she held him tight, the reins clutched in her other hand.

She shivered with fear.

The donkey splashed through a creek, breath wheezing. The woods thickened. The moon vanished behind a cloud.

Aeryl bent low, whispering frantic prayers into the dark.

She heard hoofbeats behind her. So many riders.

Her heart froze.

They were coming to take her back to the village.

No....

The road split in two. 

To the left, a narrow track linked into black overgrowths. To the right, a wide road scattered with wagon ruts shined silver under the moon.

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