All Chapters of Crowned In Vengeance: Chapter 211 - Chapter 220

Frost's POV We had spent five days and many more restless hours on a lonely path leading to the Lycan Clan. I had patiently counted every ticking second of it. But with that amount of time on the road, a man was bound to change. And somewhere, I felt that change settling quietly within me. We didn't start off this way. We left the SilverFang pack with this intense optimism burning within us. There was purpose in our steps, something close to certainty blended in hope.I had crafted a team of twelve SilverFang warriors—including myself, Oscar, and three members of Rya's Duskborn blood. Each man carried with him a sense of perceptiveness and vigilance, especially given the notoriety handed down to us by the Lycans.I was seated at the backseat with Rya. There was this defeaning silence between us—almost intentional, but it wasn't. We didn't speak, neither did we exchange a single glance.I watched her keenly as she gazed out of the window, her body and mind supposedly lost in deep tho

Frost's POV I didn't return to sleep after what happened. I couldn't dare to risk it. Not when my father could somehow manipulate my limbs just as easily as he could do with my mind. There was literally no telling the length to which Vargan could go just to see his sinister moves satisfied.Would he find another of these men to torment into acting out his plans? That was another chance I couldn't take.So I sat outside Rya's tent, with my knees drawn towards my chest, and my hands wrapped around it tightly. It was my only way to draw warmth against the chilling winds. There was no denying it... I was scared, gripped by dread. Even the slightest rustle of dead leaves across the hard ground sent my heart racing against my chest. The events of the last minute still didn't make sense in my head. One of the men still sat around the fire. He was wide awake—unwavering—feeding twigs into the fire, trying to coax the flame and sustain the warmth. How possible was it to walk past him with a

Frost's POV The evening arrived, and we were dressed for dinner. I had come prepared, wearing my best just to make a statement—a lasting impression. I dressed with purpose, taking my time with each piece.I had on a black coat that fit just perfectly—sharp at the shoulders and draping down to my thighs. Underneath was a white shirt, with a few buttons down just for comfort. My trousers sat clean against my legs, tucked into boots which were polished to a quiet shine.Staring at the mirror, I looked steady, and in control, like a man who wouldn't ask for attention, but would gather it from the moment he stepped in. My confidence peaked in the beauty of the dress.Yet, while I didn't need to be loud, Rya thought otherwise. She was dressed in a deep wine-red dress, soft and well fitted, falling just enough to move when she did. Her shoulders were bare, with a little cleavage and her skin catching the light with every slight move.She didn't wear much jewelry, just a little tough at her

Frost's POV "Kill him!" My father commanded. His voice wasn't loud in my ears, but it came in in its usual manner—sharp and intense, enough to throw me off balance. I shifted slightly on the chair, trying to steady myself before it showed. I lowered my head slightly. A quiet chuckle slipped from my lips. It was forced, empty, dry, an action made as though I was amused at something spoken over the table, but rather was a ploy to buy myself time to suppress this... feeling. My breathing had changed. The room that was once airy and most comfortable had suddenly turned into the opposite—hot and suffocating.My skin felt oddly wet. My heart raced against my chest and my breathing... my breathing had changed. I fought it, closing my eyes and trying to just... slow it down. Yet it didn't work. "Kill him!" My father commanded. This time, his voice was more than just a pressing thought in my head. I felt that usual warmth that filled the space, the kind that always indicated he was near.

Rya's POV"I'm intrigued, Rya," Sera said, leaning against the railing of the balcony, staring at the skies. We had been speaking for over one hour. Basically, our conversation circled around the meeting—starting off with the invitation, to the journey, and even to the meeting that occurred. I had shared my most honest opinion about the Lycan clan, how each man was more condescending than the other, how they felt so on top of the world, as though it revolved in the palm of their hands.To my utmost surprise, she never denied a word I spoke. She was incorrigible in integrity, concurring with every fact I had noted and shared with her. And I didn't want the conversation to end. "How were you able to attain a power in such a system where it's reserved for men?" Sera asked me. She spoke the words with this whispering tone, one that almost made it seem as though it lingered in her heart for so long. It felt like a burden she needed to share with someone of liked mind. And turns out, I