The Lycan King's Forbidden Craving - Chapter 153: Chapter 153

When the moon goddess calls, he doesn’t joke about it. Over the past few days, drowning in ancient rites and rituals, Duncan had given his all to ensure their success.
The sacred text was clear: only he could invoke the ritual. His bones still ached from countless sleepless nights, and the unbearable stance had nearly made Evelora faint during the process, but the older woman pushed on.
For the sake of the realm. The chaos was coming, and he was determined to do whatever it took to stop it.
He did it for all of them.
Yet…
As he slipped into the Citadel quietly, everything felt wrong. The air, the aura—his chest felt constricted. Then he laid eyes on the head maid, the little warrior, and his mate’s maid. Great relief washed over their features.
Words tumbled out quickly from the head maid, who looked utterly distressed. It was clear this woman hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in recent days. Her lips paused, and instinctively she took a step back, fear flashing in her grey eyes.
Only then did Duncan realize the uncontrollable, guttural sneer vibrating in his throat. Blood dripped from his clenched fist, where his claws had sunk into his palm. His heart thundered—each beat louder than the last.
He spun around without hesitation, his robe billowing as he stormed toward the court.
“Ari. I need to see Ari.”
The words rang louder than his pounding footsteps, louder than the thrum of his heartbeat, louder than the hiss of his guards drawing their swords—louder even than the voice announcing his arrival.
The large doors burst open, and his reddish-golden eyes immediately searched for her. When he found her, his feet didn’t stop—but his heart did.
His woman. His mate. Bound by the wrists like a criminal.
There was a fucking shackle on her.
In seconds, he was in front of her, close enough to breathe in her wildflower scent. His chest heaved. He didn’t touch her at first—he just stared into her silver, teary eyes, overflowing with relief and silent fury.
Ash rumbled beneath his skin, rage building like a volcano on the brink of eruption.
“Dun,” she whispered, her voice fragile and broken.
Finally, he raised his bloodstained hands to her face, gently cupping her cheeks with his thumbs.
“Was I too late?” he whispered.
“No,” she said with a trembling smile.
He drew her head close and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He felt her heart begin to steady as she let out a deep breath.
“Did they hurt you? Say the word, my love, and I’ll destroy them.” His voice was low, deadly, as he wiped away the tears on her cheeks. The ache in his chest deepened.
She shook her head. “No,” she whispered, but there was worry in her eyes. He knew why. She could feel the fury pulsing in every vein of his body.
Gently, he pulled her into his embrace, resting her head on his broad chest.
Ash purred, and Duncan let out a low growl—not of anger, but of relief at having her in his arms again.
He inhaled deeply, letting her scent soothe him. There was something different in it, something unfamiliar—but he focused on being present. On letting her feel that he was truly here.
Then, the sound of metal clanking snapped his attention.
Duncan's body went still as the full weight of the situation sank into his bones.
No one had spoken. The silence was deafening—broken only by his ragged, raging breaths.
His eyes flicked to a nearby soldier, who looked like he might wet himself. The man quickly looked away, keeping his head bowed.
Duncan's hand traced down to the chains around her wrists—shackles that should never have touched her. He looked into her eyes and then…
Snap.
The first cuff hit the floor. Another snap. The second followed.
“I was gone for a few days, and this is what I return to?” His voice was thick, laced with fury, directed at the silent men behind him. “A trial without my knowledge? My woman chained like a fucking criminal?”
He turned, eyes burning, and met the gazes of the four Lords. His jaw ticked hard.
“Can anyone tell me what the fuck is going on?”
Arianna swallowed hard at the tension that tripled in intensity, but she allowed herself to press closer to her Dearest—her face against his broad frame, her hands clinging to his fine robe.
Among the four Lords, Lord Merek was the only one who maintained eye contact with Duncan. Even so, the King’s presence broke through his composed façade, though he tried to hide it.
Damaris stood firm, his gaze elsewhere, while Lord Atheon kept his eyes shut, lips drawn tight. Lord Valoreth seethed internally—clearly not expecting the King’s sudden appearance. Now that Duncan was here, they could no longer sentence her.
But of course, they wouldn’t sit by in silence without giving an explanation.
“My apologies, Your Grace,” Lord Merek finally said, breaking the thick silence. “This may appear disrespectful, but we had no choice but to take action. Your lady bears the forbidden blood—we had to question her.”
“Question?” Duncan found the word amusing. “If you were so damn curious, why not wait for my return and question me instead? You held a trial and treated her like a criminal. You all crossed the fucking line.”
Lord Valoreth finally found his voice, though he kept it polite. Duncan’s Lycan was on the edge—they all felt it. One wrong move could lead to something fatal.
“Your Grace, she bears the Dragon blood. She killed one of our own—”
“You mean those two bastards who tried to rape and kill her while she was serving me?” Duncan shot him a deadly glare. “Whatever happened to them—they deserved it. No one touches what’s mine. Be grateful for that position of yours, or there would’ve been a bloodbath. And pray there won’t be a next time.”
Arianna stiffened behind him.
He knew about the slave masters? And never said a word?
“What about the rogue incident, Your Grace?” Lord Merek pressed. “We still believe the Ouroboros are a threat. We can’t afford to sit still. This is for the realm.”
“Ah, right. You need clarification.” Duncan gave a subtle nod to one of his Lycan soldiers. The male understood and immediately left the room.
Turning back to the four Lords, Duncan continued, “Let’s get one thing straight. I know exactly what runs in her veins. I’ve known longer than any of you. And I chose her. I marked her as mine. So before any of you move again with chains or accusations, you better be damn sure you're ready to deal with me.”
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the room.
He declared firmly, “Arianna Greystone is not to be touched, questioned, or dragged into any more of your backroom decisions. If there’s a threat to this realm, you bring it to me directly.”
The door creaked open. The Lycan soldier returned, dragging in a shackled man.
Eyes widened in shock—including Arianna’s and Lucas’s.
Merek and Damaris were stunned. Valoreth stood abruptly, face paling.
The soldier had dragged in Jarik, the Ouroboros who had led the rogues' attack.
He was still alive!