All Chapters of Savage Vows: Claimed by the Lycan King : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The Cradle of RuinThe last sealed city was not on any map.Because it was not above the earth—but beneath it.Kael stood at the edge of the ravine, staring down into the narrow chasm that yawned like a wound across the landscape. Wind howled up from the depths like a warning.According to the scrolls, this was the mouth of Kareth—a city buried by the gods themselves after the fall of the First Era. No one alive had ever seen it. Most mages believed it was a myth.But myths didn’t leave Aria’s voice trembling.And the girl she had called The Cradle…She was down there.Kael tightened the strap of his shoulder armor. “No light. No gods. No backup. And probably a dozen monsters waiting in the dark.”Zareth, standing just behind him, raised a brow. “You’re finally learning to be optimistic.”Kael didn’t smile. He adjusted his sword’s hilt and stepped closer to the edge. “Stay with the scouts. If I don’t come back in two days—”Zareth’s expression hardened. “We burn the entrance and seal

A Kingdom of SilenceThe scream that tore from the Cradle’s throat was not made of sound.It was power.Pure, undiluted fury, forged from centuries of containment, sacrifice, and solitude. It burst from her chest in a white-hot wave, cracking the stone underfoot, tearing through the shadows that had begun to rise around Kael’s suspended body.But it was too late.The thing inside him was awake.Kael’s body hung above the dying seal like a puppet half-possessed. His limbs jerked. His fingers flexed unnaturally. His head lolled as if the strings holding it upright had been slashed.And then his eyes snapped open.Black.No iris. No whites.Only the endless dark of a sky without stars.“Kael?” she whispered, stepping back, even as her heart clenched.The face was his.But the thing behind it wore him like a stolen crown.The voice that came next was Kael’s—but gutted, hollowed, twisted.“He thought he could bury me beneath purpose.”The Cradle’s lips parted.“That isn’t him.”“No.” The t

The Man Who Shouldn’t ExistThe air inside the Gate of Forgotten Things was not air at all.It felt like Kael was breathing memory—thin, brittle strands of moments he’d never lived. Whispers tugged at the back of his mind, slipping in under his ribs, brushing the inside of his skull. A hundred voices, a thousand faces, and not a single one belonged to him.But the man standing over Cradle?He wore Kael’s face better than Kael ever had.Same eyes—only both were molten gold. Same jaw, same mouth, same goddamn scar above the left brow. But where Kael looked like war had chewed him up and spit him back out, this version stood tall, untouched, regal. Complete.And Cradle knelt before him like she’d already given up.“Get away from her,” Kael growled, stepping forward.The other Kael—the copy—didn’t even flinch. He just tilted his head, curious, almost amused.“You’re late,” he said.His voice was Kael’s too.But it sounded… cleaner. Like it hadn’t ever broken from grief or bled in the dark

Ghosts of the CrownThe silence in the city was not peaceful—it was the kind that screamed under the skin. Cradle’s breath caught as she stared up at the statue, horror blooming like frost across her spine. The carving of her severed head in Kael’s hands wasn’t just a warning.It was a memory.Or worse… a prophecy.Kael stood frozen before the monument. His jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might crack. The crown carved onto his stone head wasn’t the one from the Lycan throne room. This crown was older, jagged, like it had been forged from broken blades.A king of ruin.The statue’s eyes glinted with something unnatural, like they were watching him watch them.“This isn’t real,” he muttered.Cradle stepped forward slowly. “You’ve seen this before.”He didn’t answer.Because he had.Not with his waking eyes. But in flashes. Nightmares. Buried visions the Dream-Eater had tried to twist and break him with. Only this time, they weren’t dreams. They were roots. Truths clawing their w

The Crownless and the CursedThe iron door stood like a buried wound, pulsing faintly with Kael’s energy. It wasn’t just ancient—it was alive, reacting to his presence like it remembered him. Cradle stared at the crown sigil embedded into its surface, feeling something cold and sharp coil around her spine.“Should we open it?” she asked, barely above a whisper.Kael didn’t answer right away. His jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the door like it might speak first. Like it might confess.“It knows me,” he said finally. “More than I know myself.”Cradle stepped beside him. “Then it’s time you start asking the right questions.”Kael’s palm hovered over the sigil. The moment his skin made contact, the iron sizzled, hissed—and melted into liquid shadow before re-solidifying in a circular lock that turned by itself.The door groaned open.Behind it was a staircase, narrow and descending into an impossible darkness.Cradle’s pulse kicked up. “Well, that’s not ominous.”Kael gave a dry smile. “Welc