All Chapters of The Lycan King’s Playtoy: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

LusiaMy heart was thumping hard against my chest as I felt the cold blade kissing the back of my neck. The man in the black. I had forgotten about him because I had been too focused on Kiara. That had cost me to drop my guard, and he had taken advantage of that. And now, my mind was racing as I thought of what to do next. I was stuck between running away or going after Kiara. Kiara was standing before me, and through the dim light of the crescent moon that rushed into the room, I could see the sinister grin on her face. She felt she had won this, but it wasn’t over. I wasn’t through with her. She had done the worst thing ever. She had brought up my family. My dear parents. And now, I was wondering how she knew about this. What had prompted her to come here? Was it just to taunt me? No. She wouldn’t risk her life for that. I knew Kiara. She was smarter than that. “You know that time is running out, Kiara,” I reminded her. “I wonder how much longer you are going to stay. You are want

Dane Twenty-one years ago. The room was cold. Cold like a penetrating chill that flows into the marrow and settles down for a long. Bare stone walls, gray and unyielding, were an asset to my prison; only a flickering torch thrown high above me allowed light to spill away from them. I was a boy—some eleven or twelve years, maybe—with a pair of legs as white as the moon, suspect quaking with only the weight of manifest horror. The air was thick with dampness from the earth, mixed with something sharper, something that spoke of presence: in a far-off corner, a hare was hiding, matted brown fur streaked with dirt and large, wide round eyes that seemed to glint lithely in the darkness. It remained there unmoving, staring at me, the breath shallow, like the angry, heaving of a chest. I held it lightly, bow smooth and sturdy in wood, a challenge for my strength to draw it. An arrow lay there as if in its rightful place, worn and scuffed, dull but for a faint glimmer. Above, an eye-the ca

Dane As I stormed down the castle's halls, the darkness engulfed me as my heels kissed the stone floor, and my heart thumping frantically in my chest. The air was thick with stale smells, the flickering light from the torches scarcely piercing the dark wall of shadows before me. I had felt it: the invitation, the diversion. Now, every unhurried step toward my room was punctuated by a frantic race against something that I could not name but could damn well feel. Kiara's presence lingered in my mind mostly as a sharp scent, venomous in intent, telling me she had been here. The rabble outside was nothing compared to what she could have done here indoors.I rounded the last corner, my stride quickening, more forceful when I saw it—smeared dark and wet blood—just outside my doorpost. Glistening dully in the halftime gloom, the jagged line of blood froze me in place. I caught my breath in a hard hitch, with a snarl on my lips as I took in the gruesome sight splayed before me. A body cru

Dane There was blood everywhere. Blood flows on the floor, blood on her hands, blood all around her. Lusia lay sprawled, gasping for breath, ungainly, suspended, with uneven breaths. The other body's corpse lay nearby, neck laid open, and the sword she had thrust in him sprightly glinting under torchlight. My head hurt. Unconsciously, the image of my dead mother flickered behind my closed eyes, but I crushed it and focused on the task ahead. The healer lay dead outside; Kiara was gone. Lusia—damn it, she was something! I kneeled beside her, the cold stone floor chilling me through the trousers, and slid my hands beneath her shoulders. She was limp and slack against me as I hoisted her upright to a sitting position. Her head lolled forward, dark strands of hair sticking to her sweat-slicked face, all too in tune with her dying strength: slack muscles that seemed barely able to hold her together. I braced her all the more firmly in my grip, her blood warmly flowing into my palms. S

DaneMy claws dug into the earth, pinning the squirming figure beneath me, stopping its movement by the sheer weight of my wolf. My snout was inches from their throat, my hot breath huffing against their skin, deep in my chest a growl threatened to erupt. The woods were alive around the wind hissing through the pines; an owl's low hoot cutting into the night my focus was razor-sharp, locked on the hooded shape I'd chased down. Their scent was sharp, unfamiliar, laced with sweat and something else—guilt, maybe. I bared my teeth, ready to tear answers out if they didn't come willingly. "Who are you?" I snarled, my voice a rough scrape through my wolf's maw.The figure stiffened before shimmering like sunlight on water. Fur retracted; limbs stretched and transformed while moments passed, revealing a man lying below me—not the unknown I had expected but a familiar face. I narrowed my eyes as I looked him over: sharp cheekbones, graying hair pushed back, a faint scar curling under his j