All Chapters of Sold to the Lycan King: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

POV: MorwennaBlood wouldn’t wash off my hands. I’d tried. River water, torn scraps of cloth, my own spit—nothing worked. It clung to my skin like a second pulse, tacky, stubborn, alive. Maybe it wasn’t blood at all anymore. Maybe it was memory.The sky burned low, red and gold, though there was no sun. Just fire on the horizon, where the cathedral still smoked. My chest ached with every breath. Half a soul gone, and the rest rattled inside me like coins in a tin. I should have felt empty, but I didn’t. I felt raw. Alive in the way a wound is alive—throbbing, tender, impossible to ignore.Leofric crouched a few steps away, sword planted in the dirt, both hands gripping the hilt like it was the only thing keeping him tethered. His face was unreadable, but his eyes… his eyes were starved, as though he’d been waiting centuries for this one ruined night.“You’re still breathing,” he said. Not relief, not admiration. A statement.“Disappointed?” My voice cracked like dried bone.He tilted

Leofric POV Smoke stuck to my tongue like a bitter plea that wouldn’t escape my lips. My lungs ached, yet I continued to move through the debris. Stones cracked beneath my boots, still glowing faintly from fire that refused to die. The Bone Cathedral’s shadow loomed ahead, twisted, wounded, but not fallen. That was the damn truth of this war—we broke it, bled for it, and still it stood, mocking us like an immortal corpse.Morwenna’s hand brushed mine. It was not tender—it was grounding, as if she feared I might vanish into the ruins around us. Her skin was clammy, her breath ragged. She had given half her soul, torn herself open for the timelines to converge. I could see the hollow in her eyes, like a window smashed and patched with smoke. And yet, she was still here. Still burning.“You should rest,” I told her. My voice came out more like a growl than concern.Her head tilted toward me, and I caught the flicker of her smirk. “And leave you to bleed out without me?” she rasped. “Not

Leofric’s POVBlood sang in my veins like molten fire as I stepped into the half-lit ruins. My lungs ached with each breath, but it was not weakness that clung to me—it was fury. I had clawed my way back from death, from shadow, from the corrupted version of myself that still hissed in my dreams. And now the path before me burned with one truth: I would not allow her—the Bone Seer, the witch of decay—to take anything more from us.But even as I stalked through the fractured halls of the Bone Cathedral, my thoughts strayed, unbidden, to Morwenna. Her eyes, when she had looked at me last, had been too full of fire to belong to any mortal. She had sacrificed half her soul, shattered the very fabric of time just to pull me back. That truth cut deeper than any blade. I should have been grateful, but what I felt was a gnawing hunger, an ache that bound me tighter to her than blood or fate ever could.I wanted her. No—need was the sharper word. Need that went beyond flesh, beyond touch. It w

Leofric POVBlood sang in my veins as if the earth itself had poured fire into me. My lungs burned, but I relished the pain—it was proof I was alive again. The Bone Seer stood before me in her cathedral of rot, her skeletal crown flickering with shadows that whispered like a thousand curses. Her monsters crowded the hall, gnashing teeth and dripping hunger, their bodies stitched together from the carcasses of old wars.I should have been broken. I had just clawed my way back from death, my soul barely pieced together after Morwenna’s sacrifice. Yet I felt more awake than ever, every sense sharp, every thought burning clear. The Seer hissed my name as if spitting poison.“You were meant to remain silent in the ground. Yet here you stand, defying destiny.”“Destiny never belonged to you,” I growled, gripping the sword that shimmered with the glow of blood-oaths and broken vows. “And neither does she.”Morwenna’s face flashed in my mind. Her sacrifice, her pain, her strength—half her sou

Leofric POVBlood still pounded in my ears as I dragged in air like a drowning man. The Bone Seer’s creatures circled me—spined shadows stitched from marrow and hatred, their jaws clicking with hunger. Her laugh cut through the ringing in my skull, sharp and mocking. I had clawed my way back from death, from nothingness, only to face her the very moment my lungs remembered how to breathe.Fate never gave me mercy.Her eyes, two pits of bleached white flame, glared into me. “So the dead king rises. How long before you collapse under the weight of what you lost?”The words should have rattled me, but rage is steadier than grief. Rage is honest. I gripped my blade tighter, letting the fury burn through the ache still festering in my bones.The first monster lunged. My body moved before thought could catch it, instincts screaming awake. Steel sliced through brittle ribs, and the thing shattered into ash and bone-dust that stung my throat. Another beast snapped from behind, claws catching