Primordial: The Cruel Lycan King's Redemption Novels & Stories

Lord Merek continued, “The very same thing happened with the crown prince—King Duncan’s older brother—who mated with the Ouroboros princess. That led to the death of many.” “And everyone is just going to ignore the fact that Drakora was the reason the Lycans won that war?” Arianna said, having calmed her beast. “You're talking about the power suddenly bestowed upon us while we were on the brink of losing the war,” Lord Merek said coldly, keeping his gaze on her. So they had read the book after all—and still refused to believe that part? “Can you prove that?” Lord Damaris asked.

The lycan subjects, captivated by her untamed radiance, couldn't help but be drawn to the enigma she represented. In the unseen realms, the Alpha Demon King, a formidable hybrid of wolf and demon, observed the unnamed princess from the shadows. His heart, encased in the icy armor of ancient grievances, recognized the unique aura that surrounded her. The curse that lingered within her soul mirrored the torment of his own existence, creating an unspoken kinship that transcended the boundaries of their disparate worlds.

"And I am not like you. I am not a monster who preys on the innocent." He laughed—a broken, hollow sound. "You are not innocent, Mira. You are a Primordial. Your blood is tainted with a power that could destroy the world. You are the most dangerous creature alive." "And yet," the King's voice echoed, smooth and cold, "she is the one who spared you. What does that say about you, old wolf?" The Alpha flinched. He turned his head, glaring at the King with contempt. "You're dead. You have no say in this world."

They say he made the rogues, turned entire packs into monsters to leash the rest of us, keep us paying our tribute. Some say the rogues are just a plague, a fluke of bad luck that happened at the worst time, when our packs are weak from the drought. But I've seen the bodies they leave behind, mangled and ravaged and twisted in ways that defy explanation. I've watched my own packmates dragged from our walls, screaming, only to come back as something else entirely. Something dead-eyed. Something hungry. Something that remembers us well enough to hate. The Lycan King is real. His rogues are real. And I can't — I can't be a tribute to him. I can't be marked for death and sent north to become one

The voice is deep, raspy, and echoes in the centre of my brain. My name is Amiri, the king’s lycan says. I am this stubborn old man’s lycan. I will show you the truth now. I will show you the day we almost died. The old beast opens his mind. He pulls me and Zyla right through the barrier. The darkness vanishes. Suddenly, I am seeing through his eyes. First, I see a beautiful kingdom of gold and green. It looks like absolute heaven. And then, the sky turns red, and the fire begins to burn.

His hands began to shuffle in his closet, pulling out a white tank top. “I'm not scared of you.” I whispered. “You should be. The things I want to do to you Odessa, they are not…No one should ever hear of them, not even you. So be afraid Princess, because the day you finally become mine, I'll kill anyone who tries to take you away from me. Even if that person is my son.” This time, when he turned to look at me, most of his eyes had turned red. It's the Lycan King that's speaking.

Instead of producing a Golden Lycan, he had deformed his own pup. The crowd murmured in disappointment. Some left in disgust. Seizing the chaos, I moved to my black pup and held it gently until a soft click rang out. As my pup began to awaken, its body glowed faintly. “What is that?” “That presence… It’s the aura of a Primordial!” The council gasped, pointing toward me. People also stopped in their tracks. The light grew brighter, illuminating half the sky. However, it wasn’t pure gold; it shimmered with intertwining silver threads, like liquid moonlight coursing through the golden glow.

“She was a Lycan Queen — the last of the Primordial Pack — banished before recorded history.” My body goes numb. “Impossible,” Sebastian chokes. “No,” the Goddess continues. “She carried the first-ever Lycan-moon bond. Half moonlight, half Alpha fury. You inherited her core. Your father only gave you wolf shape.” Sebastian whispers: “I am… Lycan-blood?” “Not Lycan-blood,” she corrects softly. “Lycan royalty.” Silence. Then: “You are the last heir of the Primordial Pack, born with two destinies before you ever drew a breath.”

"He desired nothing more than the throne, betraying us all in his pursuit of power. Clinton had become a traitor, and he deserved to face the consequences of his treachery. In that moment, the rogues surrounding me restrained my weakened body. Knowing their numbers surpassed what I could possibly overcome, I resisted the urge to struggle futilely. I endured the onslaught, blows raining upon me, claws tearing at my flesh, while Clinton revelled in sadistic amusement, his wicked laughter echoing through the air. But amidst the agony, Luna's tearful cries never ceased. She clung to hope, desperately wishing for an end to the torment. Then, as if in response to her anguished pleas, a surge of en

I was going to lose my virginity in front of my parents in the cruellest of ways. Heir to the Lycan throne, Axel the Black is a tormented king. Captured by the wicked humans who sold his siblings and hid his parents, he was abused until he overtook the humans and retrieved the Lycan throne back. Now, there’s one thing missing: a mate to continue the Lycan lineage. He purchases breeders but his dark heart beats for one person. The human princess who was once his friend and now, his slave.