All Chapters of Sold To A Cursed Lycan Prince : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

The journey house had finally fallen silent. Outside, horses shifted restlessly in their stalls while guards moved quietly around the sleeping carriages. Inside one of them, Aramisius slept. Or so it seemed. His breathing was slow and steady. Then, in his head came blackness. Then, an open dream. Aramisius stood on a battlefield. He did not recognize it. The earth beneath his boots was blackened and wet. Smoke covered the horizon, and somewhere beyond it came the distant screams of creatures he could not identify. He looked around. Nothing. Then he heard footsteps, heavy and slow. THUD. Another. THUD. Something enormous moved through the smoke and Aramisius' eyes narrowed. At first, all he could see was hair. A vast mane of dark, coarse hair hanging from the shoulders of a mammoth warrior. The creature was impossibly tall. Its shoulders were broad enough to block the burning horizon and its face remained hidden. Aramisius reached for his sword. Unfortunately, it wasn't

“Untie the girl.”The guards hesitated.“Her?”“Yes.”Tara stiffened. The king's gaze remained fixed on Vinn.“I want to see something.”Vinn's blood ran cold.“What?”The king's smile became almost delighted.“How quickly you become violent when someone touches what you think belongs to you.”Tara's eyes widened and Vinn lunged forward. The guards immediately restrained him. The old king laughed.“There.”He pointed at him.“That.” His eyes gleamed. “That is what I wanted to see.”Vinn struggled against the guards.“Leave her alone!”The king leaned back comfortably.“Interesting.”The blonde woman remained motionless. But her eyes had changed. She was watching Vinn differently now. Almost sadly. And beneath the music, laughter and drunken celebration outside, something ancient seemed to stir beneath Ashmark and some people felt and knew it.Something that had been waiting a very long time for him to arrive.The old king leaned back in his throne, watching Vinn with quiet amusement.

The world inside Vinn's dream began moving faster. Vinn no longer knew how long he had been there. Years passed in seconds.Malachar grew. He loved Sachi. He lost her. He died of poisoning and arose again, more powerful than ever. Kingdoms fell. Cities burned. Armies rose against him and disappeared beneath his blade.Vinn watched it all through Malachar's eyes.He felt his victories. His rage. His hunger. His hatred. Then.... Rhea.She was a young woman standing before him. Then, there was a child she carried away. A crown placed upon Malachar's head. A battlefield drenched in blood. A woman screaming his name in pleasure.Another century. Another war. Another betrayal. The deaths of his sons and brothers. Everything blurred faster and faster.Malachar became older and more monstrous. More powerful and cruelband heartbroken and in search of his beloved Sachi. His body grew and twisted beneath the weight of something ancient that was growing inside him.Then the world suddenly slowed.

Aeryl remained by the window. She did not follow him. She could still hear the occasional growl outside, each one making her stomach twist.He had looked at her as though he no longer knew her. And then those claws….Aeryl wrapped her arms around herself, spooked to her last hair.For the first time since she had met him, she was afraid to approach Aramisius. Not because she believed he wanted to hurt her. But because she knew he hadn't. He had been trying to stop himself and she had seen what it took.But she couldn't even relax because she couldn't bear to leave him all alone outside in the harsh night's weather. A soft knock sounded behind her. Aeryl turned.A maid stood at the doorway, pale and visibly distressed.“My Princess….”“What is it?”The maid entered and immediately closed the door. She curtsied.“Please forgive the Prince.”Aeryl's eyes lowered.“I know he didn't mean it.”“Yes, my princess. He would never hurt you intentionally.” The maid's voice trembled. “But tonigh

The kiss ended the way it began, soft and unhurried, and Aeryl drew back first. She found the candle stubs in a crate by the corner of the cellar and lit three of them with the last coal in the brazier. The flames pushed the dark to the edges of the room, gold against the stone. The bedroll lay at the center. Aramisius watched her from it, his eyes catching the flame. His eyes were still too bright in the candlelight, but they were his now, the silver-red fading to something that looked almost like amber. She crossed the cold stone, knelt beside him, and his arm came around her waist and pulled her onto the bedroll. Onto him. “Come here,” he said. He pulled her in before she said a word and his mouth found hers, deep and hungry. His hands went to the laces of her gown. His hands worked the fastenings of her dress. And quickly, fabric fell away. He pushed it from her shoulders, down her arms, past her hips, until she was naked in the candlelight. The cellar air touched her skin,