All Chapters of The Lycan King’s Treasured Luna: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

SargisI sat with my back straight as a rod, my eyes fixed intently forward, and my jaw clenched so tightly that I thought something might crack under the strain. The tension in my body was palpable, my muscles coiled like springs ready to unleash at a moment's notice as I watched my mother drift through the ballroom like a silken storm.As she glided effortlessly across the floor, scanning the maidens with piercing scrutiny, She swept past shoulders, tracing the contours of backs, pausing on lips painted with crimson smiles, and meeting the calm gaze of poised eyes. She offered nods of approval and barely-there smiles of interest. But none of it was random. She was calculating everything. Measuring who would represent the kingdom best. Who would elevate the bloodline. Who was worthy of the crown beside mine. And who wasn't., I could feel my anxiety growing. She was getting closer to Narine. I scanned the room frantically, searching for Narine's familiar figure.Narine was still hidd

Sargis I watched it all unfold, my pulse slowing to a sluggish crawl, as if my body couldn't quite keep pace with the enormity of what I was witnessing. Disbelief pressed its cold fingers against the back of my neck. My mother, the same woman who had once looked Narine in the eye and decided she wasn't fit for my throne, for me. The same woman who'd warned me never to let emotion cloud my judgment again turned around and walked back. To her. My heart lurched in my chest when she stopped in front of Narine. It beat so hard it nearly echoed off the marble walls. I sat still, stiff in my chair, masked in regality, because I had to be. But every nerve in my body leaned forward. And then she spoke to her. Assessed her like all the others. Even complimented her. Then beckoned her forward. She chose her. I couldn't believe it. Not even as I saw Narine's body step into the lineup of chosen maidens standing among women dressed in the finest silk and jewels from across the seven realm

Narine I opened my eyes. The lights seemed too bright now, and too many reflections bounced off gold and crystal. I adjusted my mask slightly, more for the illusion of control than actual comfort, and exhaled a shaky breath. Around me, the clinking of forks on porcelain picked up in a polite, steady rhythm. The conversations were low and mostly civil, some whispered in languages I barely recognized, others were tinged with nervous laughter or the too-careful flirtations of women raised for courtship. I was neither. Not raised for this. Not prepared for this. The wine burned as I took a sip, pretending I liked the taste of it, pretending I belonged at this grand table in this even grander hall beneath the eyes of royals and their shadows. And then... I felt it. The prickling pressure of a gaze. I glanced up. It was the fae girl again. Soraheneth. She didn't smile this time. Instead, she simply looked. And for a second, I thought maybe she saw through the mask on my face and

NARINE Forty. That was how many of us remained after the elimination. Ten girls had been dismissed quietly, almost tenderly, as though it might soften the blow. An attendant would slip behind a chosen candidate, tap her shoulder with gloved fingers, and guide her out with a polite smile that never reached the eyes. I had watched each departure with my heart lodged somewhere between my ribs and my throat. And now, every time footsteps approached, I felt that same dread stirring in my stomach. A bell chimed loudly, and almost instantly, at the head of the long table, the Twelve Council members began to stir. I sat up straighter, forcing my shoulders back, willing my pulse to steady. One by one, the council lifted their ceremonial masks, shedding the carved visages of faceless authority. It felt symbolic, like a curtain parting so we could finally see the arbiters of our fates. There were six women and six men. Each carried power in the lines etched into their faces. The last to u

SARGIS The ballroom thrummed with life. Laughter and strings laced through the air, weaving together in a melody that masked every hidden agenda. Dancers glided across the marble floor beneath golden chandeliers, their jewels catching the light in dazzling, almost mocking flashes. Nobles whispered behind painted masks, their voices pitched low and conspiratorial as they sipped aged wine from crystal goblets, and their smiles honed to razor points. Everything looked perfect, znd radiant. And all of it rang hollow to me. It had been over an hour since the dining hall doors shut behind the chosen fifty. An hour since I last saw her vanish beyond those polished thresholds. An hour of hell I couldn't allow to carve itself across my face. I sat unmoving on the throne, masking my expression into a mask of bored indifference. Not a single twitch betrayed the chaos clawing at my ribs. But heavens, it roared. Like a thousand wolves howling from within, raking their claws across my bones in