The Lycan King's Forbidden Craving - Chapter 130: Chapter 130

It had been an hour since the match ended, and the news hung in every inch of the palace. The young wolfess had won against the brute head warrior.
The match replayed in the minds of those who had witnessed it, though they were still worried. The girl had been hurt badly during the match.
“I can't believe she won,” Hilda said after narrating the whole match to Brigid, who stayed silent while staring into empty space.
Lylah won. How had she managed to pull it off?
She delivered two strikes in the first round and the final one in the third. Soon, she’d be appointed as a warrior.
How could this be happening?
“She is still badly injured and is being taken care of by the palace’s best healers,” Hilda continued rambling. “I heard the Grand Lord hasn’t left her side.”
Brigid’s eyes finally snapped to her. “What?”
Hilda chuckled, pretending to focus on the clothes she was arranging. “You should’ve seen the way the Grand Lord leapt from his seat, ran to her, and roared orders. I’ve never seen him that worried before.”
Brigid’s fist clenched secretly.
“Wait,” Hilda blinked. “Could it be the Grand Lord likes Lylah? I mean, she’s eighteen and will get her wolf any moment now—” A subtle smirk formed on her lips. “Hmm. she could be the Grand Lord’s second-chance mate—”
“Stop speaking nonsense!” Brigid snapped, cutting her off. “A wolf doesn’t have a second-chance mate if their first mate is still alive. Lady Mearina, the Beta’s mate, still lives to the south. Stop spitting out random words.”
“Oh, please,” Hilda almost rolled her eyes. “Hasn’t the king’s situation revealed enough? Arianna had a connection with the king before her mate met his doom. What if it’s the same with her sister? Besides… Beta Lucas is a Lycan too.”
Brigid’s eyes squinted. “How do you know all of this when you were never interested in Arianna before?”
Hilda blinked and let out a soft scoff. “What do you mean? Arianna’s story has spread through the realm. A slave suddenly a step away from becoming the King’s wife.”
Speaking of Arianna, Brigid’s mind drifted to Toran’s words from a while ago. Those words still hung in her mind—something he had said kept her pondering it.
Being curious, Brigid was restless. But Toran?—she still couldn’t trust that male completely. He made her feel things—extraordinary things that every female would crave for.
But there was a certain part of her that kept warning her she would regret it.
“Lylah is a Greystone too,” Hilda continued, her tone soft. “What if all this drama she’s been creating is just to impress the Grand Lord into liking her? She sure is smart and stubborn.”
Lylah. Lylah. Lylah.
That name. She’d been hearing it too much recently. Every corner of the palace whispered it, alongside Arianna’s story. Both sisters had broken crazy records ever since they stepped into the Citadel.
One faced death many times and now is the King’s betrothed. The other is stubborn and annoyingly determined, and will soon be an official warrior.
Lylah was the problem here. She wanted her gone…
Stepping out to feed the horses, Brigid crossed paths with Selene. Those sharp grey eyes froze her. Something had upset the head maid.
“I want to talk to you,” Selene said, turning to leave, but Brigid’s reply stopped her.
“No.”
Selene glanced back at her, her gaze filled with concern.
“I have some work to do,” Brigid said, walking away. The head maid didn’t stop her, and Brigid was glad about it.
••••••••••
With a deep breath, Toran tried his best to steady his nerves as he followed the guards, heading to the king's observatory.
He spotted the Grand King standing and leaning slightly toward the large table at the center, his hand resting on the table and his gaze locked with the scrolls sprawled on it.
“Your Grace,” both the guards and Toran greeted.
Duncan didn’t reply. The guards who brought Toran in left, leaving him struggling to steady his breathing. King Duncan hadn’t looked at him. Hadn’t spoken… yet.
This simple silence for five minutes was torture to Toran. He looked up at the king, who acted as though he didn’t exist. Did the king even know he was here?
“Toran Venis,” Duncan finally spoke, his voice deep and commanding. “Tell me, why is the Alpha of House Venis still loitering in my court, since his sister and father’s disgrace?”
Toran shifted his gaze to the floor.
“Your Majesty,” Toran kept his voice smooth. “My pack is collapsing. Ever since my father and sister faced the consequences of their crime, I’ve been here—”
“Their crime?” Duncan cut in sharply, causing Toran to look up but regret it as the king was staring back at him. He quickly shifted his gaze back down.
“Pardon me, Your Grace. The Venis family has truly hurt the realm. We don’t deserve forgiveness, but I really hope to fix it.”
“So, what have you been doing so far?” the king’s predatory gaze never left him.
After a beat of silence, Toran responded. “Observing, Your Grace. I needed to find a way to help my pack get back on its feet. I needed help.”
A dark chuckle escaped Duncan’s lips.
“You’ve been circling these walls like a vulture. Tell me, Venis, are you truly seeking redemption or—” His voice dropped deadly. “Something else?”
One thing Toran knew about Duncan’s interrogations: Do not fucking lie to his face… you’re doomed the moment you do.
Duncan is like a predator, ready to pounce the moment you slip.
“Let’s just go straight to the point, shall we?” Duncan straightened up, then approached. “You left the Citadel once, and that was around the time Elder Rowan disappeared before the palace guards could get there. So tell me, Toran, are you behind it?”
Toran didn’t flinch. He had prepared for this. Beside, he had made sure to leave no trace.
And the king only punishes with evidence.
“I did leave the Citadel one, Your Grace,” he admitted, his tone even, measured. “But it was for my pack. I had to return briefly to settle unrest.”
Not a lie. Not the full truth either. Just enough to survive.
“So, you killed him?”
Toran didn’t hesitate. “I didn’t.”
It was his guards who had put a blade to the old man’s neck; he had only ordered and watched. Indirectly, it wasn’t him.
Duncan smirked. “I’ve heard tales of how cunning you are, Toran. You’re lurking your ass in my walls, seeking redemption by what?”
Toran swallowed hard.
“Leave the Citadel and never show your face again,” Duncan’s eyes glowed faintly, the beast in him stirring. “You will return to your pack. If I catch even a whisper of your shadow on these grounds again, I will not be so lenient.” His voice dropped to a low growl. “This is your only mercy, Toran Venis. Pray to whatever gods you still believe in that you do not cross me again.”
Toran swallowed hard. His throat felt like sand.
“Yes, Your Grace.” He bowed stiffly.
Just like that, that night, Toran gathered his things, and before the sun rose over the horizon, he prepared to leave. However, he caught sight of Brigid staring at him.
Of course, he had another intense, pleasurable night with her before setting off to leave.
Giving her a sexy smirk, his carriage launched forward, leaving through the gates.