Todos los capítulos de Sold to the Lycan King: Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

Morwenna's POV Blood always tasted like metal and memory. Mine hit my tongue before I realized it was mine at all. I staggered back against the broken roots of the ravine wall, clutching my ribs. Smoke curled from the gash across my stomach, and the power bleeding from it was... wrong. Not just celestial. Not just cursed. Something else had taken root. And it wasn’t sleeping anymore. Liora crouched ahead of me, blade low, breath ragged. Her eyes shimmered with guilt, but her hands didn’t shake. That scared me more than the wound. "You made me strong," she whispered. "And now you have to see what strength becomes." I tried to rise. My vision flickered. I saw her past and mine colliding in brief bursts—her prison cell beneath the tower, my first shift into aetherlight, her betrayal, my mercy. She moved again, and I parried without thought, vision magic burning in my skull. I didn't need to see with my eyes. I saw the angles of choice before she made them. But it didn’t mat

Morwenna's POV Pain exploded across my chest as Leofric slammed into me. Not with claws, not to kill, but with sheer weight and fury, driving me into the ground like he couldn’t tell the difference between love and war anymore. I didn’t scream. I didn’t fight. I just braced for the worst, because something in him had broken. His body hovered over mine, every muscle trembling. His breath hitched like it hurt to inhale. Blood dripped from his shoulder onto my cheek. I smelled smoke, sweat, copper, and something worse—fear. "Do it," I whispered. "Finish what the curse started." His hand gripped my throat, but he didn’t tighten. Just held it. Like he needed the contact to stay tethered to himself. His eyes weren’t his anymore—gold burning out, beast bleeding through, something ancient snarling beneath the surface. Then he kissed me. Not soft. Not sweet. It was violence and desperation, the kind of kiss you give when you're drowning and don't want to die alone. I tasted blood a

Morwenna's POV My knees buckled the moment I stepped into the war chamber. The maps swam before my eyes, ink bleeding into rivers and ridges I could no longer decipher. My breath came in shallow gasps. I pressed a hand to my chest, and it came away slick with blood. Not again. I stumbled backward, catching the edge of the table. The pain was spreading now, radiating down my arms, a deep ache that throbbed with every heartbeat. I bit back a scream. I couldn’t let them see me weak. Not while the council was watching. Not while Leofric watched. “You need to sit,” Liora said sharply, appearing at my side. She didn’t wait for me to argue. Her arm braced around my waist as she lowered me into the high-backed chair. I tried to speak. Tried to tell them about the vision I’d seen in the flicker of the map’s ink—a great burning tree, roots twisting into wolves, a crown of fire over Leofric’s head. But the words were trapped behind the taste of copper. Leofric came forward, eyes sto

Leofric's POV The wind screamed through the elevated ridge, cutting cold against my skin, yet it wasn't the frigid air that made me shiver. It was her nonexistence. Once more. Morwenna had departed, and this time, she hadn’t merely created an emptiness in my heart—she had left behind enchantment. Blazing, untamed, and echoing through the symbol on my chest like a forest fire. She believed that by leaving, she could shield me. She was unaware that her absence hurt more than any spell. I followed the trail into the eastern grove. Her blood had spattered along the rocks, faint but fresh. I felt it in my bones—she was still close. The connection between us had grown unbearable. Each heartbeat I took without her tasted like ash. Then I saw the temple. Vines and time enveloped the ruins, softly illuminated by ancient celestial magic. She was present. I got off, rushed through the broken archway, and discovered her hunched in the middle, murmuring through gritted teeth. "You do

Morwenna's POV My hands shook as I wiped the last of his blood off my mouth. It wasn’t from the kiss. It wasn’t from passion. It was the mark, pulsing in my chest like a second heartbeat, furious and raw, cracking open the seams of everything I’d built to keep myself together. Leofric stood in front of me, chest rising and falling, but his expression wasn’t one of victory. His skin shimmered faintly with shifting, uncontained power. His body wanted to transform again, but he was forcing it back. Holding it in. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” he said, voice low, almost broken. “Then don’t,” I whispered. His eyes snapped to mine. “What?” “Stop fighting it. Stop pretending this curse hasn’t already eaten halfway through both of us.” “Morwenna—” “I’m dying,” I said plainly. “You see it. You feel it. I taste blood every morning. My visions are getting stronger, but they’re killing me.” He took a slow step toward me, every movement controlled like he was w