All Chapters of Nemesis Of The Lycan Triplets: Chapter 301 - Chapter 310

Since my fight with the swordsman who had followed the crowd to call me a cheat—and his colleague who had unfortunately been roped into the mess; since my beheading of two men in the contest, I have been feared by the citizens of the Lycan's region. There were no more whispers, well not ones I could hear—neither were there lewd comments made whenever I passed by with Isla, maybe going around, scouting, or just going to buy fruits in the market even though the daily supply of food and its essentials to our quarters was yet to cease.I have also won my last seven fights, which included races and whatever the Lycan Kings deemed worthy of shedding blood. There was even a drinking contest—not exactly official, just a night at the bar which had turned into a betting of some sort. The much-needed crowd was absent, the kings too, but I put down my foot and won, because I knew the news would spread; a woman winning a drinking contest. From the looks and whispers that had gone around the bar

"Have you no regard? Or have your victories in the last fights clouded your senses?" Adam's voice carried the kind of quiet authority that made every head turn sharply in his direction. His tone wasn't raised, but the warning beneath it was unmistakable — cold, clipped, and edged with disbelief.They had all realized I wasn't going to stand. Good. I lifted the teacup again, unhurried, letting the delicate porcelain brush my lips as if I hadn't just been accused of sacrilege. The tea had cooled slightly, but the sip was deliberate–a statement.Then I turned my head, tilting it slightly, feigning mild surprise. "Not at all, King," I said evenly. "However, seeing as you were the ones who invited me, I didn't think it was necessary. Aren't we just here to dine and talk? Why waste time on frivolities? Aren't you just tired of it?"A sharp inhale cut through the air."What nonsense!" Lilian screamed, her voice high and shrill enough to echo off the gilded walls. She took a furious step for

ADAM I watched them leave. The doors had barely shut when the silence descended again, heavier than before. Her scent still lingered—warm spice and earth after rain. Sage. Even the name was an irony. A woman like that didn't need wisdom to survive—she needed restraint, and she had none of it.I leaned back in my chair, pushing the plate away, the remnants of food untouched. Her words kept circling my head like vultures. The men I'd sent to inquire about her—killed. Or so she'd said, with that taunting smirk, like she wanted me to doubt myself, to question the authority I held in my own pack. And damn it, it worked.She hadn't denied it either, not really. Her tongue danced on that thin line between truth and provocation. Maybe the men were dead. Maybe they weren't. Maybe she'd killed them herself, that brazen witch.The hall was still. Even the brides had stopped whispering for a while. But the peace didn't last."Are you all seeing this now?" Claire's voice sliced through the silen

SAGEThe roar of the crowd was deafening. The combat field looked almost too small for the number of people pressed against the barriers, eager, greedy for blood. The stands were overflowing — royals in their jeweled seats, visitors from other packs, humans who had bribed their way in for a glimpse of the real show. Even some had come cloaked in glamour, pretending to be nobles from far territories. Everyone loved the smell of danger. Everyone loved a fight.And today, I was the main attraction.I could feel their eyes on me as I stepped into the arena, the sand warm beneath my boots, the heavy metallic scent of past fights still lingering in the air. The banners of the royal pack fluttered above the stands. Somewhere near the center, I could see the royal box — Adam seated there, expression carved from stone, his brothers lounging beside him like this was some private amusement. Claire was there too, looking murderous in her red gown. Good. Let her seethe.I rolled my shoulders, br

SAGEThe evening air was cool, kissed with the faint scent of rain and pine. I pulled my cloak tighter around my shoulders as I wandered through the paved streets of the colony, each stone still faintly warm beneath my boots from the day's sun. Lanterns hung from black iron posts, their soft orange glow spilling over the cobblestones, catching the wary faces of those who passed me.They didn't say much—no one dared to anymore—but they looked. Always looked. Some bowed their heads, others stepped aside, giving me a wide berth as though I carried the plague. A few, the bolder ones, gave a respectful nod, murmuring greetings like "Champion" or "Lady Sage." I neither corrected nor acknowledged them. Titles were meaningless when you were one fight away from either glory or death.Tomorrow was the final match. The one that would decide everything. Darius versus Sage. Alpha's chosen versus the wild card. And I was expected to bleed for their entertainment again.I exhaled, a dry laugh esca