All Chapters of Sold to the Lycan King: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Morwenna’s POVI woke with a jolt, sweat clinging to my skin, the metallic taste of blood sharp on my tongue. My chest heaved as if I had been running through war, not sleeping in my own chamber. The dream was still clinging to me—bones cracking under unseen hands, shadows whispering in voices not their own. And through it all, the Bone Seer’s voice had threaded like poison, smooth as silk, cruel as winter.“Your womb holds the kingdom’s fate,” he whispered. “Rule, or ruin. Choose, but know this—choice is only an illusion.”I sat up too fast, pressing both hands to my stomach. The room tilted, my vision blurring at the edges. Pregnant. The word thudded in my mind like a curse. It was a truth no one else knew, a secret burning under my ribs. I should have felt joy, or hope. Instead, only fear bit deep.The prophecy. Always the prophecy.Barefoot, I forced myself toward the balcony. The sky was still bruised purple; dawn had not yet broken. Below me, the kingdom lay restless in its slee

Morwenna’s POV / Leofric’s POVI can’t keep still. My hands shake even though the fire has long died in the hearth. Shadows crawl across the walls, bending and stretching like they want to swallow me whole. I press my palm against my stomach, as if that will silence the memory of Sabine’s words. A second celestial child. My child. Rule or ruin—two blades, both sharp enough to bleed me dry.Liora’s blood is still on my tongue. Her last cry, her sacrifice, it clings to me like smoke that won’t wash out. I should be mourning her. Instead, I am pacing, gnawing at my lip until I taste iron. A queen shouldn’t unravel like this, but I was never meant to be queen. Not like this.They expect me to hold the kingdom together. They don’t know I’m already splintering.“Morwenna.” Caleb’s voice cuts through the dark. He’s watching me from the corner, face pale, eyes sunken. He hasn’t slept. None of us have.“What?” My voice comes out sharp. Too sharp. I swallow hard. “I can’t breathe, Caleb. Every

Morwenna’s POVFlames clung to the air long after the pyre burned down, the stink of charred flesh crawling into my throat until I wanted to tear my lungs out. Liora’s body had turned to ash, and still I kept my hands pressed against the stone edge, nails broken, skin bloodied from clawing at it as if I could drag her back from nothingness. My people whispered that their Queen had gone silent. They didn’t see the storm ripping me in half, they only saw the crown.I pressed my palm to my belly. The warmth there wasn’t comfort. It was weight. A curse. Every night since the Bone Seer’s words, I woke tasting iron, certain that my child was already deciding how to destroy me. Ruler or ruin. And the silence inside me was worse than screams.“Your Majesty,” someone said behind me. Caleb, I think, or maybe Sabine. I didn’t turn. If I met another pair of pitying eyes, I’d break their skull against the stone. My grief had no room for courtiers.I whispered to the ashes, my throat raw. “You didn

Morwenna’s POVBefore I even opened my eyes, my skin was crawling. The odor of blood hung in the atmosphere, heavy and metallic, searing the back of my throat. My heartbeat pounded within my head, each thump more intense than the one before, as if something had settled inside me and intended to remain.The room was dark, its candlelight nibbled away by shadows that appeared to move when I glanced away. I struggled to get up, disregarding the pressure on my ribs and the fatigue that almost kept me on the bed. My hand explored the blankets next to me—chilly, vacant. Elira ought to have been present. Her petite figure nestled against me, her calm breaths the sole tether preventing me from succumbing to slumber.She had disappeared.I compelled my body to rise, even as my knees shook below me. A chill ran down my back, and a flavor of fear coated my tongue with a bitter, metallic aftertaste.“Where is she?” My whisper cracked apart in the silence.The door groaned open. Not Elira. Kael st

Morwenna’s POVShadows bled across the ceiling as I woke to the sound of bells tolling. Not the ceremonial bells that marked a birth or marriage, but the iron-throated clang reserved only for death or invasion. My pulse quickened before my eyes had fully opened. The chamber was dim, a single lantern flickering at the edge of the table where Sabine’s scrolls lay scattered. The air stank of wax and burnt herbs, as though the Bone Seer herself had been prowling through my dreams again.I sat up, clutching the sheets. Cold sweat glued the fabric to my back. Another dream—another vision—but this one had not been mine. I could still feel her voice echoing inside me, a hiss that was not sound but sensation: Your womb carries ruin, not salvation.I pressed my hand against my stomach. Too soon for a swell, yet the weight of the prophecy bore heavier than flesh. Sabine’s words, the Bone Seer’s intrusion, Liora’s sacrifice—they tangled like thorns, ripping me from within.The door banged open. C