Semua Bab Crimson Moon Bound To The Lycan King : Bab 41 - Bab 50

King Theron still hasn’t called for me. He hasn’t sent a word. Hasn’t said anything to anyone about my condition. I’ve never wanted to see him as much as I do right now and it is all because Kalb has most likely already spoken to him about me. He gets answers while I sit in the dark and that sits wrong in my chest. It coils there, tight and annoyingly heavy. My thumb slips back into my mouth again before I realize what I’m doing. I bite down lightly, the pressure grounding me for a second. It’s the tenth time today. Maybe more. I cannot have a beast. It is not possible to have one and not feel it. Everyone always talks about the pull, the heat, the constant presence in your body when you have a beast, but I feel nothing. Yes, I growled, but one does not need a wolf to do that. Even humans growl when they are angry, and they do not have beasts. So why would Kalb assume something like that so easily? She must be wrong. Maybe she’s a quack. Yes, that makes sense. A comforting an

Theron “You did a good job making the elders very unsatisfied today,” Jareth says. “I only did what was necessary,” I reply as we step into the healing quarters. The unsettling scent of herbs and medications fills my nostrils the moment we step inside. Doctors, assistants, and attendants bow their heads in respect to my beta and me, deliberately avoiding eye contact with me. Upon reaching Kalb’s office, Jareth opens the door without knocking, and I step inside just before he follows. Kalb is on her feet immediately, startled enough that her chair scrapes against the floor. “Your Majesty,” she says, smoothing her white coat. “I could have come to you myself.” “I’m already here,” I reply, stopping beside the leather examination bed positioned in the center of the room. I rest my hand against its edge, fingers pressing into the gleaming surface. “So let’s talk about the results. Does she have brain damage like I suspected?” Kalb exhales through her mouth, like she’s bracing

Zephyra “You should smile more, Consort Zephyra,” Roxy says, even though I am already smiling as much as my face will allow. My mouth aches. There’s a faint sting at the corners from holding the expression for too long. I am almost certain that if I force it any further, my mouth might actually split. And for what reason, really. The gazebo is peaceful, too quiet. The soft rush of water from the nearby fountain fills the space, joined by the cheerful songs of colorful birds darting between the trees. It should be calming, something beautiful to admire. And it is beautiful. The palace always is. This is the kind of place meant to make you forget yourself. I know I should be taking it all in, but my palms are damp, my thoughts spiraling no matter how hard I try to focus on the scenery instead of my nerves. Will the consorts like me? The question keeps circling, gnawing at me. Today has to go well. I need it to. On this pleasant day, making a good impression is my goal. I want

Zephyra “The tea helps to suppress sexual urges.” Camala tilts her head slightly as she speaks. “I’m aware the king hasn’t requested any of you in quite a while, and as we all know, our beasts require constant attention. They are wild, not gentle creatures.”Consort Malvory clears her throat and straightens in her seat. Consort Kessi fans herself discreetly, discomfort written bluntly across her fair face. Their Lardins stiffen behind them. Vanya, however, remains still, her hands still folded in her lap. Camala smirks, pleased with the unease she has caused. “You’re free to skip the tea if you wish,” she continues, unbothered. “But my dealer assured me it keeps your Lycan at ease for a long time. You won’t feel the urge to mate for at least three weeks.” Malvory’s hazel eyes widen. “Three weeks?” She blurts out. “Why?” Kessi leans back, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “You sound shocked. Anyone listening might think the king hasn’t touched you in years.”“Speak for your

Theron “Tighter security goes to the east, far away from this point,” my commander general, Baron, says as he shifts the wooden marker across the large map spread over the table. “That way, our enemies won’t be able to cross into the city from this route.” “Good.” I lift my eyes from the map to look at him properly. “That means unwelcome predators will expect tighter security from the other areas, thinking we’ll be too busy protecting the important routes.” I pause, studying the markings. “It’s a good plan, but I want it even tighter. We can’t afford to let the festival crumble like the last time.” The last festival was the perfect definition of a disaster. There was an emergency attack. Wolves breached the city and slaughtered some of my people. Blood was spilled, lives were lost and because of that bloodshed, the Moon Goddess was displeased with us. Her displeasure came with consequences. The moon wasn’t as strong as it should have been. Its power didn’t fully descend on us.