All Chapters of Loved By The Lycan King : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

LIAM’S POVThe moment the words left my lips, I saw it—the way her breath hitched, the way her pupils dilated, the way her fingers twitched at her sides like she didn’t know whether to reach for me or push me away. Shock. Confusion. A flicker of panic. It all flashed across her face in rapid succession, raw and unguarded, before she took a half-step back, her chest rising and falling too fast.I stayed still. Let her breathe. Let her process.Inside me, my wolf was clawing at my ribs, wild and insistent, howling with the truth of what we both already knew. But I didn’t rush her. Didn’t crowd her. I just watched—watched the way her throat worked as she swallowed, the way her lashes fluttered like she was trying to blink away the reality of it."Sarah," I said, my voice rougher than I intended, the weight of everything between us thickening the air.Her gaze snapped to mine, wide and searching."It’s real, isn’t it?" I asked, even though I didn’t need to. The bond pulsed between us, war

LIAM’S POVThe knock came softly, hesitant—three quiet raps against the wood, barely loud enough to hear. But I’d know that sound anywhere. My heart clenched before I even saw her, my breath hitching in my throat like it always did when she was near.Sarah.I swallowed hard, forcing my voice steady. “Come in.”The door creaked open, slow and deliberate, and there she stood, bathed in the dim golden glow of the hallway light. She was wearing one of Laila’s stolen shirts—the oversized black one with the tiny crescent moon embroidered on the sleeve.It swallowed her whole, the fabric draping over her small frame, making her look even more fragile than usual. Her wild curls were piled into a messy bun, loose strands framing her flushed cheeks. Her chest rose and fell just a little too fast, like she’d run here. Or maybe she was just as nervous as I was.Gods, she’s beautiful.“Hey,” she murmured, her voice so soft it was almost lost in the quiet of my room.I sat up straighter, dragging a

HANNAH’S POVThe morning sun spilled through the windows in golden ribbons, painting the long breakfast table in warm light. The rich scent of cinnamon rolls—fresh from the oven, still buttery and soft—mingled with the smoky sweetness of honey-glazed bacon. But it wasn’t the food that made my chest tighten with emotion.It was them. All my children. Here. Safe. Whole.Jackson sat at the other end of the table, his usual stern expression softening just a fraction as Karen leaned into him, whispering something that made the corner of his mouth twitch. My eldest had spent too many years carrying the weight of the pack on his shoulders, his smiles rare and fleeting. But Karen… she brought color back into his life, and I would never stop thanking the Moon Goddess for her.To my left, Liam was failing spectacularly at pretending he wasn’t holding Sarah’s hand under the table. I caught the moment—the way his fingers brushed hers when she passed him the butter, the way their pinkies tangled,

KAREN’S POVThe world slowed to a suffocating crawl as I stood there, my lungs burning with every breath of smoke-thickened air. Flames licked at the edges of my vision, their hungry glow casting jagged shadows across Jackson’s face.His muscles coiled with raw, desperate strength as he fought back the fire, the extinguisher hissing violently in his grip. Sweat streaked through the soot darkening his skin, his jaw locked tight, his eyes—wide and wild—reflecting the chaos around us.Then my gaze landed on the table.It was empty.The cooler containing the cure was gone.And beside it… my mother’s journal lay burning on the floor.A scream clawed its way up my throat but died before it could escape, leaving only a shattered whisper. No… no, no—My legs gave out. I hit the floor hard, the impact shuddering through my bones, but I barely felt it. My hands trembled as they hovered over the ashes, my fingers ghosting over the brittle remains of her words—her voice—now nothing more than frag

JACKSON’S POVThe world blurred around me, every heartbeat a deafening drum in my chest. The weight of the mission pressed down on my shoulders, but I refused to buckle. Not now. Not when my father’s life hung in the balance.I adjusted my backpack across my back, my fingers brushing against the cold steel of the dagger inside. The bottle of wolfsbane clinked softly, a quiet reminder of the poison that had nearly stolen everything from us. Karen’s hastily scribbled list burned against my chest, tucked safely in my breast pocket like a second heartbeat.I have to make it back. No matter what.Liam stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his jaw set in that stubborn way that mirrored my own. His eyes—sharp, fierce—locked onto mine.“I’m coming with you,” he said, voice rough with defiance.I exhaled through my nose, forcing patience into my tone. “No. I need you here.”His fingers curled into fists. “Jackson—”“Listen,” I cut in, gripping his shoulder. His muscles tensed under my palm. “Sil