Novel & Cerita Confinement King Light

For the king, no less? The toxicity of drinks was making me hallucinate I affirmed myself because love wasn’t needed, not to a person like me. I was about to leave when the king spoke, ‘Dear citizens, warriors, and pack members, welcome to the kingdom of Dark Eclipse, I am your king, Tyson Black, and I have joyous news to share with you’ his voice echoed deep into the walls.

Keisha confessed earnestly, knowing very well that Grace would not be able to figure out her worries if she tried. "Why would you say that? Did something happen?" Grace's concern was clear on her round face. Keisha smiled and shrugged. "What's happening? Mr King is having dinner out here. That's rather unusual of him, don't you think," she fished, sounding as nonchalant as she could manage.

ordered the king. And the emperor made a slight vow with his right hand on his chest 'cause this is their tradition in their kingdom. The emperor said what he intended. King Arran was happy, and he ordered General Accientsy to bring food such as; bread, rice, blankets, and silver. The king's order was to give five pieces of silver to each family. "Alright, King Arran!" she replied, bowing her head.

But rather than drown with him in despair, I vowed to take back what belongs to the pack. “My Alpha, they’ve brought Light Pack’s leader.” Nuel announced. I saw Father shiver, but I smiled because very soon, everyone will know who the true king is. “Yes, I’m waiting for the Alpha you claimed was here. Sebastian King is ruling LA, stupid.” The voice boomed, and I peered through the living room curtain. A tall man stood outside , black shirt, long beard nearly reaching his waist. So this is the leader of the Light Pack, the one bold enough to trespass into Moon Pack territory.

This confinement is not the end, but rather the catalyst for my triumphant rise. In the depths of my imprisonment, the spark of rebellion flares to life. I am King Alex, and I will not be silenced. The battle for my kingdom has only just begun.

Inside was a scene that would have made most men pause, but for Julian, it was just another night. The dim light from the overhead lamps cast long shadows across the concrete floor, illuminating a small group of men gathered in a rough semi-circle. In the center of them stood King, his broad shoulders relaxed, his easy grin spread across his face as he toyed with a metal baton. The men around him—part of Julian's inner circle—watched with varying degrees of amusement and tension. At King’s feet knelt a man, his face bloody and bruised, his hands bound behind his back. The faint flicker of terror in his eyes didn’t escape Julian’s notice.

The King’s gaze followed me, appraising, cold, calculating. The pit was located at the basement of the castle and was made up of an elevated platform made of canvas encircled by a triumvirate of plastic harnesses - the space had the semblance of a wrestling ring. It was illuminated by powerful LED lights embedded in the xatky Apart from King Sylvester who was proudly seated, guards and other contingent that stood around the ring

Zaine shakes his head and laughs as he rises to his feet and drags the unconscious king behind him by his greasy ponytail. “There are more than a few people who will want a piece of him if they get wind of him being here. Take him to the forest cells and have six men guarding him at all times.” Zaine let’s go of the fist full of hair and Acheron’s head bounces before settling on the tiled floor. He will feel that when he wakes up. “Take this too. When the dinner and dance is over, and our allies are back home and safe, we will put an end to... that.” Zaine sniffs in disgust and nods down, then holds out another glass bottle.

The King hovers at the back of the room chatting with a younger Lycan. This one was different to the rest, leaner and cleaner with clear scar-free skin and slicked back ebony hair. He wore the obligatory black combat pants and t-shirt and clutched a glass of ice water in one hand and a small white box in the other. He turned his attention from his King to me and sauntered over to our group. I remained on the wooden chair that was shoved under me minutes ago my body still too ravaged with agony to stand. "Here," he said, tipping out two white pills from the small box he held.

It reflected the King’s personality in each of the corners of the room. Tamara stared at the huge chandelier that lighted the room and there were also small classic wall sconces – creating a cool and calming ambiance around. Arlan told him a while ago that the King rarely opens the light. He loved being in the dark – but she couldn’t. She always felt safe under the light, so even though there’s a huge possibility that the King might be angry at her later. And if that happens, then, she’ll cross the bridge when she gets there. “I believe Arlan told you that I don’t like the lights to be on.” A deep and familiar voice suddenly brought her reverie back to reality.