Novel & Cerita Traded To The Lycan King

He’s been watching since the ceremony. I looked at Rowan. ‘I understand if you want me to leave before he arrives. Whatever political obligation his arrival creates for you. I don’t want you to leave, Rowan said. He is the Lycan King. If he arrives here and finds you have been —’ Harboring you. Something in his voice was almost amused. Harboring is an interesting word for offering a guest a bed and breakfast. I stopped arguing. Not because I had run out of arguments but because I could see that they were not going to work, and I had learned a long time ago not to spend energy on immovable things.

“Werewolves and Lycans alike experience their first shift during their eighteenth moon, for Lycans, some may manifest abilities alongside that shift. The Kings are determined by how powerful they are. Lyros should have manifested on his first shift. If there’s any other record, I don’t know” My face falls but Cain’s voice makes me perk right back up. “But I can help you find out.”

I deadpanned. "Who are you exactly? Are you Raven Declan or Sienna West?" He asked, and I sighed. "What do you think?" He slowly released my hand, pulling down the sleeve of his shirt to cover the rose tattoo on his arm. "Let's go back. It's late," he said, ignoring my question. I glanced at the inky night sky and scanned the woods beyond. If I made a run for it, how far would I go? King Aries was the king of the Lycans. I'd heard that he was the oldest Lycan in the kingdom. This could either mean that he had insane abilities or that his abilities were fading with time.

Twenty-three Northern pack families quietly placed their portfolios under our control, deciding the young Voss woman in the Second Free City had become the most dependable asset manager in all wolf-controlled financial territories. In that same stretch of years, I discovered something else. The man who had been serving me Liraeth red wine every Tuesday evening since the spring of my second year was not a bartender at all. He was King Lysander. The Lycan King of the Five Free Cities. The last living Lycan in existence. The realization came on a Wednesday morning in autumn during my third year. His face stared back at me from the front page of the First Free City Morning Chronicle, positioned

I, once known as 'Hollow,' had been a heartless mercenary, a tool of death who left a trail of destruction in my wake. Then, there was Lucian, the 'Cursed Lycan King,' a malevolent figure of unparalleled cruelty. His life was marked by ruthless execution, a reign of terror that inspired dread at the mere mention of his name. As I compared our journeys, I couldn't help but be struck by the stark transformation that Lyra's father had set in motion. He had plucked me from the abyss of my past, offering me a chance at redemption, a chance to protect his daughter and the pack. My life had taken a path of loyalty, honor, and an unbreakable oath.

"But she will regain her full powers soon, and you'll be discarded." "Glad to know, though, but I don't care one bit about what the both of you do." I turned, leaving the woods with intent in my steps. The druid witch I had come to kill was dead. Although I wasn't too happy about that, there was nothing left for me here. My family awaited me at home, and that was miles away from here. "The bastard, you know he's real, right?" I stopped in my tracks. "Well, you have eyes on being the Lycan King. That's your problem now. So, deal with it."

The people I loved so dearly, who once called me family, now saw me as nothing more than a scandal, a disgrace. A hand gripped my arm, yanking me away from Damien. I turned, one of the warriors, gripping me as if I were a prisoner. “Take her to the borders,” Damien ordered. They started to move me, dragging me. But before we could take another step, a chilling voice cut through the chaos. “Touch her again, and you will not live to see another sunrise.” The world stilled. The air shifted. And then he stepped forward. It was Kael Donavan, The Lycan King.

She turned, her cloak sweeping the floor, and then, she signaled the people behind her, giving them a sharp nod. ​ "We will wait, King Ronan. We will wait for the moment your 'sanctuary' fails. And it will fail. Because a human heart stops, but you see a Lycan’s grudge? It is eternal." As they began to exit, i took a step back, completely frozen. Now it finally clicked. I wasn't equal to anyone here. I was just a piece in their game, a pawn she was ready to sacrifice. It didn't matter how powerful Ronan was. We were playing a game where the rules were already rigged from the start.

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."

Their hair was wet, their clothes have patches of water droplets, but all in all, they looked clean. “Your turn, love.” – he muttered She frowned. It was the first time he called her that. “What did you just call me?” “I called you love.” She smiled. Couldn’t help it. “I know you’re no longer my queen anymore, but you’re still my love.” She leaned in closer to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. What has happened to the Lycan king? How come the spoils of war has left him with a sweet bone? “On that note, I’ll go wash myself clean then, love.”