All Chapters of The Lycan King's White Wolf: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Seraphina’s POV “Tell me your name, little wolf.” The king’s hand remained beneath my chin. His fingers were warm, his grip firm enough to remind me that he could tighten it whenever he pleased. I should have pulled away. Instead, I held his gaze. Those strange golden eyes searched mine as if my name was not the only answer he wanted. “Seraphina,” I said. “Seraphina what?” “Just Seraphina.” His expression did not change, but I knew he did not believe me. He could probably smell the lie. Isolde shifted inside me, still weak from the silver but alert now. ‘He knows.’ ‘I know he knows.’ ‘Then perhaps we should give him another name. Something respectable. Seraphina None-of-Your-Damned-Business.’ she said. I ignored her. Lucian released my chin slowly. Not gently this time. Slowly. He was watching me, waiting to see what I would do once his hand was no longer holding me in place. I stepped back. One step. His eyes followed the movement. Something shifted in them. He had expected

Seraphina’s POV Two days passed. Edmund sent me to the private armoury with a stack of clean training cloths and strict instructions not to leave them with anyone else. I should have known that meant Lucian would be inside. The doors stood open when I arrived. I walked in without knocking and stopped so suddenly that the cloths almost slipped from my hands. Lucian was shirtless. He stood beside a weapons rack with his back half-turned towards me, breathing slightly harder than usual. Sweat ran over his shoulders and followed the deep line of his spine before disappearing beneath the dark trousers sitting low on his hips. He had been training hard, judging by the split skin across his knuckles and the blood marking his lower lip. Lucian turned, and my eyes dropped before I could stop them. His chest was wide and hard, marked by old scars. One ran beneath his ribs. Another cut diagonally from his shoulder towards the centre of his chest. They should have made him less beautiful.

Kael’s POVFive nights earlier in BlackridgeI woke falling. There was no bed beneath me. No room. Only open air and the sick rush of the ground coming too fast. Then pain tore through my side. I screamed and hit the floor beside my bed hard enough to bruise my shoulder. My body curled around a wound that was not there. I pressed my hand against my side and expected blood. There was none. Ragnar exploded inside me.‘MATE!’The word ripped through my skull. I could not breathe. My chest locked. My heart hammered once, twice, then seemed to stop entirely as something inside the damaged bond stretched so far I felt it begin to tear. Seraphina. I reached for her through what remained between us. There had always been something, even after the rejection. A faint warmth. A pulse that did not belong to me. Proof that somewhere beyond my sight, she was still breathing. Now there was almost nothing. A weak flicker. Then silence.“Seraphina.” I forced myself upright and stumbled towards the doo

Seraphina’s POVThe visiting Lycans arrived before sunset. By nightfall, the royal dining hall was crowded with nobles dressed in enough velvet, fur and jewels to feed every servant in the lower palace for a year. I carried wine between them while they discussed hunts, marriages and people whose names meant nothing to me.Lucian sat at the head of the table. He had barely spoken since dinner began, yet every conversation moved around him. No one interrupted him. No one reached for a dish before he did. Even the older Lycans watched his face before deciding whether something was amusing.The Blood King did not need to demand attention. It belonged to him before he entered a room. I was refilling a nobleman’s glass when he caught my wrist. His grip was not painful, but it stopped me.I looked down at his hand. The man was thick around the middle, with grey threaded through his beard and several rings cutting into his fingers. His eyes moved over my servant’s dress before lifting to my fa

Lucian’s POV“You have read that page three times,” Marcel remarked.I kept my eyes on the report. It concerned the eastern border, three missing patrols and a nobleman who claimed ignorance too often to be believed. Usually, I would have remembered every name and number after reading them once. I had reached the bottom of the page three times and understood nothing.Marcel sat opposite me with one ankle resting over his knee. He was one of the few men alive who could enter my study without permission and remain alive after irritating me.“You moved the wolf into the royal wing,” Marcel continued. “You train her yourself. You put her beside you during dinner, and Commander Soren now believes you intend to remove his hands.”“I have no interest in his hands,” I replied.“You ended the training session because he touched her waist,” Marcel reminded me.“He was unnecessary,” I said.“He was correcting her stance,” Marcel pointed out.“I saw him,” I replied.“That appears to be the proble