Novel & Cerita Curves And Claws:the Lycan King's Relentless Claim

I declared. "If you could only see yourself." His claws were prompt to tear through my flesh, leaving a trail of blood on my body. The pain almost took my breath away. I then felt his sharp claws on my back, and I screamed. "You're a Lycan, a daughter of a Lycan king! You will yield to my command!" The searing pain coursed through my body as his claws pulled my flesh. Each wound felt like a dagger piercing my very being. Blood stained my skin, a reminder that I was losing this fight.

Aelindra shouted, her voice sharp. Drevon seized his blade, blood dripping from his wounded arm. He approached the fallen king, his heart pounding. The king glared up at him, his glowing eyes filled with defiance even in his final moments. “You will never break the Lycans,” the king said, his voice a low growl. “Our spirit cannot be extinguished.” Drevon hesitated for the briefest of moments, then drove his blade into the king’s chest. The Lycan let out a final, ear-splitting roar, the sound filled with pain and fury. His massive body shuddered, then fell still.

His tense muscles rippled beneath his skin as he moved, his body glistening with a thin layer of sweat. King Duncan's voice was low, raw, and rough. "How many days?" "A good day, your Grace." A day? That was a surprise. The last rut took three days. Could it be finally working? No, he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Fewer days didn’t mean he hadn’t taken a life. Lucas's knee was still bent, waiting for his next command. "Arise, Lucas," King Duncan commanded. Lucas obeyed, rising to his feet but keeping his gaze lowered. He knew better than to meet Duncan’s eyes when he was fresh out of his rut. The beast within the Lycan King was still lingering just beneath the surface.

My vision swayed slightly, the exhaustion threatening to drag me down. But I refused to fall. Not here. Not in front of Bella. Not in front of these scavengers. A Lycan King did not kneel before rogues. Even at the edge of death. Even when his body was failing him. The larger rogue smirked as he studied me. “Careful,” he said to the other. “He might still bite.” The second rogue grinned wickedly. “I hope he does.” Slowly, I stepped forward. My claws extended fully as the Lycan within me stirred again, refusing to surrender despite the weakness tearing through my body.

His fur was soaked in a mixture of his own red blood and their glowing obsidian fluid, his movements slowing as the ancient poison began to paralyse his central nervous system. A massive lycan raised its claw, ready to deliver a fatal strike to the king's throat. "Get away from him!" Clara roared. Her voice dropped into a layered, cosmic alpha frequency that didn't just shake the fortress—it shook the entire volcanic island. The five Lycan elders froze, their pupil-less blue eyes snapping to the doorway. Clara stood in the ruins, her hands raised, her entire body enveloped in a magnificent, swirling vortex of golden thermal fire that vaporised the falling rain before it could touch her skin.

"You are scaring him! Get up on your feet and leave!" Cillian did not argue. He did not even look at Kaelen or the deadly blade. Keeping his empty eyes locked perfectly on my face, the King slowly raised his right hand. I heard a sickening snikt. His thick, razor-sharp Lycan claws slid out from his fingertips, glinting in the pale moonlight. Before I could even process what he was doing, Cillian drove his own hand violently into his chest, plunging his deadly claws right over his beating heart.

I moaned, and if not for the fact I wanted revenge, I would have ripped his heart off his chest. “You have got something there,” he commented, with a lot of lust in his eyes. I took a peep at Tasha, and she was already tearing up, trying to hide the fact that she was crying. She wiped her tears with a handkerchief and tried to take her gaze somewhere else but it seemed impossible, “I have more that I would love to share,” I said, licking my bottom lips. Without hesitation, Klau grabbed my neck and pushed me to the wall. “We are spending a night with the Lycan king, we will be in the visitor’s chambers, Meet me by noon, Room one hundred and twenty-two,” He said, licking my neck.

He was a Lycan, a stronger and older race. In battle, they fought in a half-human, half-wolf form, making them more agile and powerful than ordinary werewolves. But Lycans were very rare. "But how are you here?" I asked, finally taking his hand for a handshake. "Tracking a few vicious rogues," he said, furrowing his brow. I remembered Blake mentioning rogue attacks along the border recently. Just then, a doctor walked over. "I'm sorry, Alpha Logan. We did our best, but we couldn't stop your brother's bleeding."

Only when he is certain he is no longer a threat does he turn his attention to those who were supporting him. ‘Kill,’ he repeats, letting his gaze shift from one to the other. ‘Kill!’ “No!” Rosalie gasps as my lycan makes to move. “Stop, please!” As she speaks, I can feel what appears to be chains wrapping around us, holding me in place while my lycan rages. ‘KILL!’ He roars, trying to fight whatever is holding us back. ‘KILL THEM ALL!’ “No!” Rosalie hisses, her voice dripping with strain. “You can’t! You’ve already done enough! Come back to me!”

Another replied and I groaned but still closed my eyes there. “Are you nut? Can’t you see he is about to die? He can’t even open his eyes well anymore. Are we going to watch him die like this?” One of them said again and my heart leaped. “You are the one who’s lost his mind. Have you forgotten that he is a Lycan king and a very strong one at that? How will he die just because he is thirsty? Beings like him can go for years without taking anything and they will still be okay!” One of them finally raised his voice as he scolded the last one who spoke.