All Chapters of Crimson Moon Bound To The Lycan King : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Theron Zephyra is on the floor. Her blunt nails scrape weakly against Jared’s arms as she struggles, all because his hands are locked around her throat, cutting off her air while he twists her neck, preparing to snap her bones.He’s choking the life out of her and the worst part is the way he looks at me while doing it.Like this is a favor. As if he’s carrying out an order I never gave. Like he’s eliminating a problem for me.“Brother, wait—” Dane calls after me, desperate to explain things to me, when my legs move on their own, stepping past him. He’s trying to stop me or justify this. I don’t know, I don’t hear him. All I hear is blood.All I feel is the overwhelming, violent need to kill.Anyone who dares put their hands on something I regard as mine forfeits their right to breathe.Voices shout from behind me, overlapping, frantic, but none of them reach me. Whatever calm I once had has burned out of my body entirely.Zephyra coughs and spits onto the floor while gasping for ai

Zephyra “Can I skip the festival tomorrow?” I ask Roxy. She doesn’t bother hiding her disappointment. “Consort Zephyra, why would you ask that?” Because the king would kill me if he saw my face again, he made that very clear. I haven’t told Roxy what happened that night, not about the inner palace halls, not about the blood spilled, not about the way King Theron looked at me like I was something he wanted gone. She’s been taking her role as Lardin seriously, too seriously, and if I tell her what occurred between me and the king yesterday, I’m afraid this will be the time I finally see her get angry. I don’t want that. “I just—nothing,” I lie. “I like being alone. I’d rather be on my own tomorrow. Besides, I’m not a lycan.” The festival is strictly for Lycans. It’s in the name, Lycan Festival. I don’t see why I have to take part in something that was never meant for me. She sets dinner on the table and turns to face me. “You’re a consort now. It’s mandatory for ev

Another consort agrees with her, murmuring something breathless, but I barely hear it. My heart suddenly aches, and heat spreads across my body. It comes slow at first, then it becomes heavy, hard to contain and push away. Could this be jealousy? I don’t know what it is, but I hope it isn’t that. I can’t afford jealousy. The goddess would curse me for it. I force the thought out of my head, trying to dislodge it, but the feeling doesn’t go away. It feels itchy beneath my skin, completely restless, stroking an annoying anger that keeps building no matter how hard I try to smother it. When King Theron steps onto the stage, he speaks to his people. His voice carries easily, commanding without effort, and the crowd responds with roaring cheers. As they do, I notice something that hadn’t clicked before, there are no children here. It makes sense. What comes later in the night isn’t meant for young eyes. The festival grows wild as the hours pass. Lycans will give in to instinct

I shouldn’t interfere at all, but it doesn’t break the rules in anyway. As long as Khaisha doesn’t help her secure a kill, it remains within tradition. Elder Orin approaches, his presence souring the air before he even speaks. Of all the elders, he’s Grimm’s least favorite. Mine as well. “The moon is bright tonight, don’t you think, Your Majesty?” he says, peering at the sky. Grimm growls at the sound of his voice, his presence shoving into my mind like a jagged intrusion. I keep my expression neutral. “We don’t have an appointment, but you may sit if you have something important to say.” “I merely wished to check on your wellbeing,” he says, adjusting his glasses, his fingers brushing through his thick white beard. “Your health is my priority, after all.” An interesting thing to say, considering he was the one who introduced bloodbane ingestion into my training. He claimed it would build my tolerance, and it did, eventually. But I’ve never believed his intent was to make me s

She looks genuinely happy, but I’m not sure how to take it. It’s complicated. Smiling back at her, I ask, “You think so?” My body loosens just a little at the thought that he isn’t as angry as he was yesterday. I can’t be certain since he’s not a man whose moods are that easy to read, but he wouldn’t have accepted my rabbit if his anger was still burning the same way. “Did you see the way he stared at you?” Roxy continues. “Or the way he does every other time?” Every other time? “You’re getting it all wrong,” I say, my voice coming out awkward and defensive. “I know more about these things than you realize. The king wants you.” No, he wants Camala. Anyone with functioning eyes can see that. “Why don’t we focus on finding some water,” I cut in. Thinking about the king, talking about him, does something to me. Every time his face crosses my mind, my body reacts in ways I don’t understand and don’t want. We walk through land thick with fallen leaves and broken branches. Wit