All Chapters of The Lycan's plus size Queen : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Vaelira's brath hitched and her fingers tangling tightly into the leather straps of my tunic, pulling me closer. "I... I felt small for a moment," she confessed softly, her eyes fluttering as my thumb stroked the corner of her soft lip. "I thought I failed.""You did not fail," I murmured, my forehead resting firmly against hers, my warm, pine scented breath washing over her lips. "You terrified them, my Queen because they saw a female who cannot be bought, intimidated, or broken."My gaze dropped to her mouth. The air between us grew impossibly thick, electric, and suffocatingly hot. Her pulse thudded violently against her throat, a frantic, fluttering rhythm that made my dark crimson eyes flare to life."I have tried to be patient, Vaelira," I rumbled against her skin, my voice a low, dangerous purr that vibrated right through her chest. "I have tried to give you time. But if I do not kiss you right now, my wolf is going to tear this palace apart."A soft, shuddering breath escaped

CHAPTER 44: Vaelira's POV The solar was utterly silent, save for the crackle of the dying hearth and the ragged sound of my own breathing.I sat frozen on the edge of the mahogany desk, my hands still gripping the polished wood behind me, my fingers trembling so violently I could barely hold myself upright. The lingering taste of pine, rain, and warm sandalwood clung to my tongue, intoxicating and sweet, leaving my head spinning in a dizzying haze.My lips throbbed, swollen, tender, and warm from the fierce, ravenous crash of his mouth.I lifted a hand with agonizing slowness, my fingertips brushing against my lower lip. My heart was hammering inside my chest like a trapped bird, sending wild, hot waves through my blood that made my entire body tingle down to my toes. A strange, fluttering ache pulsed deep in my stomach, a feeling so intense, so raw, that it scared me.He kissed me.It hadn't been a gentle press of his lips against my forehead or a protective kiss on my temple. It ha

CHAPTER 46: Malakor's POV The urgent missive from the eastern border lay flat on my mahogany desk, its red wax seal shattered like dried blood.My inner wolf was pacing frantically behind my ribs, a dark, dangerous snarl vibrating in the back of my throat. I stared at the parchment until the ink burned into my retinas, my hands planted so hard against the edge of the wood that the heavy oak groaned under the pressure.A quiet catastrophe was brewing on the eastern frontier, a crisis that could shake the stability of Volca-Crest apart before winter set in. And every single instinct in my body screamed at me to lock the doors, draw the iron bars, and handle it alone.Across the solar, Vaelira sat at her small reading desk, bathed in the soft gold of the afternoon sun.She was bent over a stack of grain ledgers, her dark hair slipping past her shoulders, the tip of her tongue tucked slightly between her teeth as she concentrated. Seeing her there peaceful, safe, and immersed in her lear

CHAPTER 48: Vaelira's POV The solar felt like a pressure cooker ready to explode.I paced back and forth across the thick rug, the hem of my heavy wool gown sweeping over the woven patterns in a relentless rhythm. My eyes burned from hours of staring at maps and tax ledgers, but my mind refused to quiet down. Across the room, Malakor sat in stony silence at the strategy table, his jaw set so tight he looked carved out of granite, his broad shoulders hunched under the crushing weight of a kingdom in crisis.Think, Vaelira, I demanded of myself, digging my nails into the palms of my hands until the skin throbbed. There has to be an answer. How do you stop greedy, powerful men when they hold all the cards?The noble lords of the Iron-Crag territory were hoarding the local timber, supply wagons, and heavy rescue equipment. They were letting innocent commoner miners suffocate underground, refusing to move a single piece of machinery unless Malakor surrendered his royal tax authority on we

CHAPTER 50: Vaelira The heavy oak doors of the Grand Council Chamber slammed shut, and the room went dead silent.I sat up in the raised Queen’s gallery, my hands resting neatly on my lap. Below me, only the senior council elders and high-ranking traditionalist lords sat around the long crescent obsidian table .Down at the head of the long table, Malakor sat on his heavy carved throne. He looked intimidating, his shoulders broad, his dark crimson eyes sweeping over the room like an Alpha ready for a fight."My lords," Malakor began, his deep voice carrying easily across the stone room. "We have spent three days arguing over the eastern mining disaster. Innocent pack members are trapped, and the winter cold is setting in."Elder Vane adjusted his robes and spoke up smoothly. "Your Grace, as we discussed, the eastern pack lords require guarantees before they release their rescue tools and supply wagons. Unless those terms are met, our hands are tied."Malakor didn't get angry. Instead