The Lycan king Forbidden Mate のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 81 - チャプター 90

Sergio's POVThe arena was still loud. The crowd was still screaming, and the guards were dragging Ramiro toward the gates.The noise was overwhelming, a wall of sound that pressed against my ears and made it hard to think. Nobles were on their feet, shouting and gesturing, their voices blending into a chaotic roar. Some of them were cheering for Ramiro, some of them were cursing him, and some of them were just screaming because they did not know what else to do.I looked at the crowd, and I saw a thousand faces staring back at me. Some of them were pale with shock, and some of them were twisted with anger. But some of them were soft with something that looked like respect.No one spoke, no one moved, and the silence was louder than any cheer.Ramiro was on his feet, barely. The guards had pulled him up by his unbroken arm, and they were dragging him across the sand toward the exit. His broken arm hung useless at his side, and blood was still dripping from the wound, and his face was t

Sergio's POVI pulled back from Leandro, and I looked at the arena.The court was still there, the nobles were still in their seats, the guards were still standing at attention, and the healers were still hovering at the edges of the sand. And Ramiro was still chained to the iron gate, watching us with his dark, hateful eyes.I looked at Ramiro, and he looked back at me. His dark eyes were full of hatred, and his lips were still moving behind the gag, and I knew that if he could speak, he would be screaming. He was not defeated, and he was not broken. He was just waiting for his next chance.I looked away.The moment between Leandro and me had been real, but it had not stopped the world from turning. There was still a judgment to be delivered. There was still a sentence to be pronounced, and Leandro was still bleeding.I did not want to let go of him, and I did not want to watch him stand up and face the court when he could barely stand at all. But I knew that this was not my decision

Doña Clara's POVThe arena was still full when the guards carried the king away.I had watched them go, I had watched the human walk beside them, and I had watched the gates close behind them. Then I had turned back to the court, and I had seen the silence settle over them like a shroud.The silence was louder than any scream as everyone watched the guards carry the king away. They moved quickly and carefully, with the kind of urgency that came from knowing that every second mattered. I could see that the king was pale in their arms, his golden eyes were closed, and the herbs and bandages on his side were soaked through with black blood. The human, Sergio, walked beside him, and his hand was clasped tightly around the king's hand, and his face was a mask of fear and determination.They disappeared through the gates, and the sound of their footsteps faded into nothing, and the arena was left with a silence that pressed down on all of us like a weight.No one moved, and no one spoke. T

Sergio's POV The walk from the chambers to the court hall was slow. Leandro leaned on me more with every step, and his breath came in short, ragged gasps. His hand gripped my arm so tightly that I could feel the imprint of his fingers through my sleeve.  The guards we passed bowed their heads, and the servants pressed themselves against the walls, and I heard the whispers start before we even reached the doors. "The king is walking." "He should be in bed." "He is coming to the celebration." I did not care about any of them. I only cared about Leandro, and about getting him through those doors without him collapsing. We reached the entrance, and I looked at Leandro. "Are you ready?" I asked. Leandro nodded, and he straightened his spine, and he let go of my arm. Then we wa

Sergio's POV I walked around the Castle slowly, and my footsteps echoed on the stone floor, and the castle was still alive with the remnants of the celebration. Servants moved through the corridors with tired eyes and heavy arms, carrying trays of empty goblets and half-eaten plates back to the kitchens.  I saw a young maid yawning behind her hand as she balanced a stack of empty plates, and I saw an old servant pause in the middle of the corridor to glare at a wine stain on the stone floor. "Animals," the old servant muttered, and he shook his head and knelt down with a rag to scrub at the stain. "They eat like animals and they leave like animals, and I am the one who has to clean it up." The maid beside him laughed, and she set her plates down on a nearby table. "You say that every time, Henrick," the maid said. "Because it is true