Todos los capítulos de THE LYCAN TSAR’S REJECTED CROWN: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

Bronislava "Slava" Ignatova My breath hitched as every pair of eyes in the hall turned toward me. The weight of their gazes felt like a physical force, pressing down on my chest until I could barely breathe. I couldn't move. My boots felt frozen to the stone floor, my fingers digging into my apron until my knuckles turned white. "Step forward, Bronislava," Kirill repeated. His voice didn't waver. It was the polished, commanding tone of an Alpha whose word was law. Beside him, Eva leaned against his shoulder, her green eyes locked onto mine with a slow, triumphant smile. Beneath her ivory sleeve, the strange silver bracelet glinted under the lights, its carved runic charm pulsing with an unnatural heat that made my skin crawl. Matrena’s hand slipped off my shoulder, retreating into her shawl. She didn't speak. She simply stood like a silent statue, her milky eyes staring into the void. Move, I told myself. Don't let them see you shake Swallowing the bitter taste of bile,

Bronislava "Slava" Ignatova The cold ground vibrated beneath my palm, a low hum pulsing through the frozen dirt like a buried heartbeat. My fingers, numb and raw, clung to the obsidian crest. For a split second, a shock of impossible heat burned straight up my arm, making my wolf gasp in the back of my mind. Then, just as suddenly, it went silent. I collapsed onto my side in the drift, shuddering as the wind tore at my wet linen dress. The dark forest swallowed the light of the pack hall behind me, but the roaring cheers from inside still cut through the storm. They’re celebrating. My lungs burned as I forced myself onto my hands and knees, staring back at the North Ridge fortress. Stained-glass windows glowed gold against the black sky. Inside, they were pouring wine, raising toasts to the new Alpha pair, while I lay bleeding in the snow from a bond just hacked to pieces. No. The agony in my chest felt like a physical weight pressing my face into the ice. But deeper tha

Bronislava “Slava” Ignatova The air inside the grand council chamber smelled of warm beeswax, old parchment, and suffocating betrayal. I was kneeling on the cold flagstones at the foot of the high council table, my shoulders pinned by two Alpha guards whose grip would leave bruises shaped like fingers by morning if I lived to see one. The stone beneath my bare, scraped knees sent a sharp ache straight up my spine, but I barely registered it. My chest had gone hollow, a raw, gaping absence where my bond with Kirill used to live, and somewhere underneath the pain my mind kept flatly insisting: “this isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real”. A single sheet of thick parchment lay at the center of the dark oak table. At the top, in bold black ink, were the words that sealed my fate: DECREE OF IMPERIAL BANISHMENT To my right, Kirill stood in silence, arms crossed. He wasn’t looking at me. His hazel eyes were fixed on the frosty windowpane, cold and unreadable. Beside him, Eva

Bronislava “Slava” Ignatova The lead rogue’s howl cut through the roar of the blizzard, a jagged sound that vibrated straight into the frozen dirt beneath my head. Five massive, rabid beasts padded out of the dark, paws sinking into the drifts as they circled my paralyzed body. Yellow tinged saliva dripped from their jaws, steaming where it hit the snow. Their eyes burned mindless and red, the mark of wolves who’d eaten human flesh and given themselves over completely to the rogue path. My heart slammed against my ribs like something trying to break out of a cage. Every survival instinct I had screamed at me to get up, to run, to fight. Shift! I screamed inward, turning my frantic focus to the dark, quiet spaces of my own soul. “Shift right now, or we die.” I reached for everything I had left, calling for my wolf. Every shifter child grows up being told the wolf is just an extension of you, a second heartbeat, a coil of raw muscle waiting to tear through the skin the moment your

Bronislava “Slava” IgnatovaThe white light tearing through my mind wasn’t peaceful. It felt like boiling lead poured straight into my veins.I floated in some weightless, terrifying in between, not quite dead, not quite alive, a volcano waking up in my marrow. Decades of quiet rot were burning off in seconds. Every cup of “calming tea” Matrena had fed me since I was small, every bitter herb pressed to my lips to cure my “frail constitution”, all of it unraveling at once, like a lie finally catching fire.It hadn’t been weakness. It had been poison. Wolfsbane, laced with silver, dosed into me slowly enough that no one would ever think to call it what it was, a leash, dressed up as medicine.They kept me small, the thought surfaced, sharp and cold. They fed me poison and called it care, and I thanked them for it.A crack split through my skull, like a vault door blown off its hinges.My eyes flew open.I wasn’t on the ground anymore. I hung three feet in the air, suspended inside a slo