The Lycan King's Army Mga Nobela at Kwento

In fact, the more I stared at him the more his face began to fit the description of a popular tale that echoed in my mind: Eyes of gold, tyrant's sway. Scar, terror, endless fight. Ruthless Beast, cold as night. Heart of steel, soul of fire. No mercy given, no love to acquire. Feared by all, through day and night. I swallowed hard, my heart racing as I recognized the man before me. This was Lycan Alexander of Theriakon pack. King of the Lycans within the 7 kingdoms. The most ruthless Lycan to have ever lived.

“If they want war, they’ll get one. But they’ll learn one thing before this ends.” “What’s that?” I whispered. He turned to me, and his eyes weren’t just Damon’s anymore. They were the eyes of a king. A Lycan King. “That no one touches what’s mine.” —

"We couldn't stand a chance against the Lycan soldiers. Our guards were rendered useless." The Lycan’s were one thing the Alpha genuinely feared. They were extremely powerful. No one in Alkarod could stand a chance against the might of Lycan soldiers, not even the best of their werewolves. Alkarod was in deep trouble. "The king came disguised. There was no way anyone would know." "How wouldn't you know? It's the fucking king! Everyone knows how he looks! Everyone knows how a fucking royal Lycan looks." "No! He was different. His hair was black. He was a different person. There was no way anyone could have noticed. Besides, not many people had seen the King."

"The real king. Not the echo we faced in the fortress. Not the shadow we bound in the tomb. The first Lycan king. He is coming." We rode north at dawn. The scouts had reported a massive force moving through the mountains—not the twisted wolves, but something else. Lycans. Hundreds of them, perhaps thousands, their fur dark, their eyes red, their claws extended. They moved in formation, like an army, like wolves who had been waiting for this moment for centuries. At their head, a figure in black armor, a crown of thorns on his head. The Lycan king.

“The Lycan king will be here by noon, and the presence of everyone is needed downstairs. The order insists we all welcome him in the next 20 minutes." The person said and then I recognized the voice, it was the head maid. As luck would have it, she didn't come in, she only spoke from the door. I cleared my throat, attempting to steady my voice. "I'll be there shortly," I managed to reply, my voice strained. This was the first time I'll be meeting someone so powerful especially the Lycan king, so I would try my best to look presentable. His reputation for being extremely cruel and vicious was well-known across the entire kingdom. People had heard many stories about his lack of mercy or kindne

My heart impossibly shattered even more, making me stagger back as a stray tear rolled down my shocked cheeks. He hummed and waved his hands, immediately dismissing me while knowing very well that I wasn't okay with the arrangement but since when did Sullivan ever care about my opinion? I quietly returned to my room, all the while recalling every rumor I had ever heard about the Lycan king. His name was believed to be Hunter Tiberius Williams and he was cruelty in human form.

Their leader, a tall man with a cruel scar down his cheek, smirked. “We’ve been expecting you, Lycan King.” Aedric’s lips curled back in a snarl. “Then you know how this ends.” The Black Fang warrior chuckled. “Oh, we do.” He lifted his hand. And from the trees—dozens more stepped forward. Aedric’s pulse pounded. They were outnumbered. But the Lycan King only smiled. Because he didn’t come here to run. He came here to end them. ---------------------------------------------- The air crackled with tension.

Stone had assumed that he was leading the strategy, but I had led them to the one place that I knew would have enough bodies to fill a river. They were standing on the ground of fallen warriors, an army that had died for me, fought wars and dissolved kings in my name. And just like before, they were risen, awaiting my command one last time. My army of the undead had risen. This was the enemy they didn’t see coming. They had been fighting like mortals, but now, I was going to show them why I was called the Lycan king. “Mikhail, he is here,” Damon mumbled, his hand shaking as he held onto his sword.

I felt my blood freeze as I heard what he had to say. “What?” I asked, out loud. “He’s coming with an army of Lycans. They are armed and in full formation. They are coming with no official summons, no messenger. He’s coming straight for the kingdom. Straight for Blackthorn pack.” I blinked. Then let out a dry bitter laugh. “Oh, well that’s delightful,” I said aloud as I stared at Dante. “Is he bringing cake?” “No? “Just swords? Even better.” “Asher… you’ve been oddly comedic this past few hours, do you think your words are really helpful right now?”

Shouts of affirmation were heard from the crowd and the few Alphas who remained in the palace watched on with awe. “We will emerge victorious once more, but make no mistake… This shall not be an easy fight, it shall not be a victory without sacrifice. Are you ready?” The crowd roared in agreement and Will smirked, “Then I welcome you to the Army of the Great Lycan.” Will’s smirk grew, the name was once given to the Royal Army once again reigned its protection over the world and so awakened the path to Lycan Royalty.