The Lycan King And His Dark Temptation Novels & Stories

"Stand! I don't hit women, or I would have hopped on that offer. So what exactly do you scent and see?" "Conspiracy, my king. It seems there's a leech among your trusted. The troops you have sent to the wolves' land have been surrounded and butchered... currently being butchered, and part of your prisoners are returning to their pack with the help of a Lycan bloodline." Who is it?" Lucian inquired, full of curiosity. Valka looked at her king seriously. "I... I can't see clearly, Your Majesty. Probably a man too wise to know you would consult my vision, who must have prepared himself with cider incense to conceal his appearance."

It was heavier than it looked, the cover soft and a little sticky with age. It opened plainly enough: Each alpha has a prophecy, and it will always come to pass. Weird, I thought. The kind of line that means nothing until, suddenly, it means everything. I almost put it back right there. I wish I had. I kept reading instead. The Tenth Lycan King will conceive a child with his Luna. The child will be the most powerful and most feared in history. I read it again, slower. Then a third time, waiting for the words to rearrange themselves into something that made more sense, something less impossible. They didn't.

he said and shrugged. I nodded. I needed to get used to it. Nikolai intended for us to remain their King and Queen. It would do me good to get used to having a slave to assist me. If I was going to be the Vampire Queen, I needed to act like it. "We need to start getting ready or else we will be late," he said and extended his hand in the direction of the slaves. All of them stood up from their position, took off their leashes from their hooks and one by one placed them in the palm of Nik's hand. They kneeled again.

His hair has the most unique look I've ever seen—black, but with streaks that burn a deep red when light touches it. In summary, if Anton is considered very handsome, the Lycan King supercedes that by a wide margin. I shake my head to remove such thoughts from my mind. He's the reason that I'm here, and he should be treated no better than the monster he is. There was always some ounce of doubt whenever I heard stories of how he conquered a pack, or raised a territory with his men, but after the things I saw this night, I know for a fact that they are true.

He stood there with his terrifyingly unmatched presence, his black eyes cold in a frightening way. The sorcerer’s grip around my wrist tightened when he saw him before speaking in a rough voice. "She is mine. She belongs to me. No one will take her from me." A terrifying smile spread across Alexander’s face, and his deep voice carried a deadly threat. "Remove your hand from what belongs to me… you bastard." I think I’m now trapped in the middle of the greatest tragedy imaginable… me, the Lycan King, and the Devil of Black Magic.

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.

With each passing minute, I can feel my consciousness wavering just like back at Bernard’s while the darkness and my lycan work to become the ones in control. “Destroy, kill, become the ultimate king, and then claim your queen.” As these words flash in my mind, I feel my lycan pull even more, fighting against me until I know he’s going to take control. “That’s it,” the fake Bernard says, his voice growing colder. “That’s it; come forward and join me.” “No,” I rasp, though I know I’m going to lose to it. “I can’t… I…” The rest of my words never come, as I feel like my very soul is being ripped to shreds, and when the last bit of sanity that I can feel slips away, I know that I’ve lost.

Never bow to the beast we call King, the one responsible for my coven's massacre, burned my family into ash and called it justice. Yet here I was, being offered as meat to the monster that ruled us all. The throne stood mighty, looking like something carved out of darkness itself, and on it, dressed in black and gold, sat the king. Lucien Valemont. The Lycan King. Even from a distance, his presence was overwhelming, cold, and intense. His face was unreadable, chiseled like it had been sculpted. But it was his eyes that took me off balance. They were hard green. Sharp as a knife.

But in the briefest heartbeat, before anyone else moved, Amber’s gaze flicked once more to Livia—dark, satisfied, and cruel. The Lycan King’s claws dug into the armrest of his throne, wood cracking beneath his grip. His golden eyes blazed, his entire body trembling with the need to act, to rip apart the one who dared harm her. Yet he stayed rooted in place, because to reveal too much now would unleash chaos that even he could not contain. The Elders leaned forward as one, their glowing eyes piercing through the chamber. Their power weighed heavy upon everyone present, until whispers d*ed and silence reclaimed the hall.

"Why do you want to marry me? I think you already know about our family history. My parents were slaves and used your gold to buy their freedom." He straightened his back and lifted his chin. He looked regal and authoritative. "I am the Lycan King. I can have everything I want. Women. Gold. Treasure. Power. Name it. Everything that you can think of." "I don't think so. You will never have my heart." He stared at me for a long time as if I said something wrong and then said, "I don't need your heart. I need someone who will stand as my queen." "How about your wives? You have a lot of them."