All Chapters of The lycan king’s regret  : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

(POV: Zareth) I rushed through the dark tunnel entrance and burst straight into the center of the arena while the cultists were still completely stunned by Kaelor's massive alpha roar, and I drew my daggers from my belt immediately, slicing through the air to cut down the nearest guard who tried to block my path before he could even raise his sword against me, and I kept my boots moving fast across the dirt floor while shouting out to Alexander and the rest of the team to make sure they were right behind me because we could not afford to let a single cultist slip away into the upper tiers, and Marcus nodded as he parried a blow from a rogue wolf near the stone benches. "Get out of my way," I yelled at the falling man, stepping over him without breaking my stride, and I locked my eyes straight onto Vane, who was standing on the edge of the stone pit and beginning to chant the final verses of the awakening spell with frantic speed while thick black mist started rising from the depths

(POV: Sabriel) I covered the upper tiers of the amphitheater from my elevated position on the stone ledge, picking off cultist archers one by one as they tried to rain arrows down on Zareth and Kaelor in the arena below, and I kept my left shoulder steady even though the fresh bandages were already starting to pull tight against my skin, because I knew if I missed a single shot, those snipers on the balcony would get a clear line of sight right toward the altar where Zareth was fighting to break the seal. "Sabriel, watch out on your right side," James shouted over the din of the battle, ducking behind a stone pillar as a volley of arrows clattered against the flagstones right next to his boots, and he turned around with his shield raised high to block another incoming missile from the upper balcony, "they have more archers grouping up near the northern archway." "I see them, James, and you do not need to yell at me like I am blind," I snapped back, slotting a steel bolt into the gr

(POV: Kaelor) I rushed back toward the central stone pit just as James dragged Vane away, and my heart hammered hard against my ribs because the black mist rising from the broken basin had stopped swirling and started condensing into a massive, towering entity with jagged limbs and glowing red eyes, and I knew if we did not destroy it right this second, it would break out of the amphitheater and tear through the entire capital city before sunrise, so I drew my enchanted blade and leaped over the edge of the pit while channeling every ounce of alpha energy I had left inside my body. "Kaelor, wait, do not attack it alone without backup," Zareth shouted from the other side of the arena, running toward me as fast as she could with her hands glowing with silver light, but I was already closing the distance between us and the beast, because my wolf was roaring in my head and demanding that I protect my people at all costs. "I am not waiting, Zar, get back behind the stone pillars," I yel

(POV: Alexander) I walked back across the dirt floor of the ruined amphitheater while the dust slowly settled around our boots, and I started helping the backup guards round up the surviving cultists who were still cowering near the stone benches, tying their hands securely behind their backs with thick hemp rope and making sure everyone was accounted for before we loaded them into the transport carts, and I looked over toward the corner where Mae was kneeling down by her medical satchel to clean up a minor scrape on her arm. "Are you alright over there, Mae?" I asked, walking over to where she sat on a wooden crate and tossing a roll of bandages into her lap, "did one of those cultists get a clean hit on you while we were fighting the shadow beast?" "I am fine, Alexander, it is just a tiny scrape from when I tripped over a fallen stone pillar," Mae answered, catching the roll of bandages with a small smile and pressing a clean cloth against her arm, "and I am much more worried abo

(POV: Sabriel) I moved through the rows of wounded guards sitting on wooden benches inside the makeshift medical tent outside the palace gates, tending to their cuts and wrapping clean gauze around their arms while my own left shoulder thched from the constant exertion of the battle, and I poured fresh water from a tin pitcher into a small metal cup for a young guard whose arm was splinted with two flat boards, and I told him to drink slowly so he did not choke while the medic finished checking his ribs. "How is your shoulder holding up after all that climbing and shooting on the upper tiers, Sabriel?" the guard asked, taking the cup with a shaking hand and looking up at me with gratitude in his tired eyes, "because you were running around up there like you did not even have torn stitches." "My shoulder is fine, and I do not need anyone worrying about me when there are men bleeding all over these benches," I answered briskly, though I winced slightly as I reached up to grab another