All Chapters of The Lycan's plus size Queen : Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

My fingers were raw, red, and bleeding. For three straight days, I had scrubbed the palace floors on my hands and knees until my knees were black and blue. Every muscle in my back throbbed with a dull, constant ache that made it hard to breathe. But tonight, none of that physical pain mattered. Tonight was the Mating Ceremony. I stood near the back wall of the crowded hall, pressing my spine against the cold wooden boards, trying to make myself as small as possible. My dress was made of cheap, coarse brown wool. It scratched against my skin, pinched uncomfortably at my waist, and pulled tight across my broad shoulders. It was an old dress that my sister, Elodia, had thrown in the trash two years ago. I had dug it out, washed it, and patched it up myself with leftover thread from the kitchen rags. Beside me, Elodia looked stunning. She wore a tailored green silk dress that hugged her small waist perfectly. Her golden hair fell in soft, shiny curls over her bare shoulders, and her

Malakor's POV I had come to this border territory to inspect the guard posts in secret. Dressed in a dusty brown traveling cloak with my hood pulled low, I walked the dark stone streets alone. I preferred traveling without an entourage. When an Alpha knows his High King is visiting, he cleans his streets, hides his corrupt guards, and puts on a fake smile. Silence and shadows were the only way to see the truth of how my people were actually treated. As I turned down the main road, the loud sounds of drums, cheering, and roaring laughter echoed from the pack hall. A crowd had gathered inside for their annual ceremony. I slipped through the back entrance unnoticed, blending into the dark shadows near the exit doors. On the raised wooden stage stood a young Alpha—Torren—pompous, arrogant, and preening in his polished leather armor. Beside him stood a girl in a tailored green silk dress. She was slim, delicate, and preened like a peacock under the crowd’s applause. Then my eyes drif

Vaelira's POV My knees buckled. I stared at the man standing in front of me as my mind shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. The dusty brown cloak lay in the snow at his feet. Underneath it, his black tunic was stitched with silver thread, framing a broad chest and an intimidating, regal frame. The man who had held my chapped hand in the dark carriage wasn't a bandit. He wasn't a traveler. He was High King Malakor. The Lycan King. The supreme ruler of Volca-Crest. Around us, dozens of elite warriors clad in heavy black steel dropped to both knees. Their armor clanked loudly against the white marble courtyard, every single head bowed in absolute submission. Panic surged through me, hot and suffocating. I had spoken to him like an equal. I had complained, bitter and ungrateful, right to the face of the most powerful wolf alive. I scrambled backward, my knees hitting the freezing marble as I dropped into a desperate, messy bow. I pressed my face toward the ground, my body trem

Vaelira I didn't sleep a single second. I spent the entire night sitting on the edge of the massive, feather-soft bed, my knees pulled tightly against my chest. Every shadow on the wall looked like a crouching monster. Every creak of the heavy oak floorboards made my stomach twist into a knot. I kept waiting for someone to drag me back to the cold kitchen, or worse, to tell me the Lycan King’s mercy was all a sick joke. When the first morning light filtered through the velvet curtains, a soft, polite knock sounded at the door. I flinched, pulling the thick blanket up to my chin. "W-Who is it?" The heavy door creaked open. A young maid with a warm smile stepped inside, followed by two others carrying armfuls of silk, silver combs, and steaming brass pitchers of water. Outside in the hallway, two massive guards in black armor stood rigidly at attention, keeping their eyes trained on the corridor. "Good morning, my Lady," the head maid said, bowing her head deeply. "I am Sarah. Hi

The air in the study felt charged, humming with an electric warmth that made my skin prickle.I stood frozen against Malakor’s broad chest, my hand still resting trembling against the golden mark on my neck. The initial sharp sting of his fangs had faded, replaced by a deep, throbbing heat that seeped right into my pulse.It wasn't just a mark on my skin, I could feel him.A steady, comforting hum thrummed in the back of my chest, anchored directly to his heart. When his breathing slowed, a wave of calm washed over my own panicked nerves, dulling the sharp edges of my panic.We are bound, my inner wolf whispered, stirring gently beneath my ribs. In all my years, I had never felt so alive .I looked up into his face. The blinding, luminous gold in his eyes was slowly receding, melting back into his familiar warm amber. His large hands remained resting on my waist, keeping my broad frame anchored safely against him."Are you in pain?" Malakor asked, his voice low, rough, and laced with