The Lycan King's Forbidden Craving - Chapter 184: Chapter 184

“She won again.”
Yvonne scoffed at the news delivered by the head maid, Paige. Her fists clenched in anger. When would that annoying little bitch finally lose—or better yet, die?
Ever since she had challenged her six years ago, back when Yvonne was Lord Lucas’ mistress, Yvonne had harbored deep hatred for Lylah and wished she would one day lose a match and perish in the arena.
Perhaps one day, Yvonne would kill her herself.
“I have more news, my lady,” Paige said. “The Queen has delivered a girl.”
Yvonne’s eyes widened with excitement. “She did?”
“Yes, my lady. The King has already heard of it.”
Yvonne’s heart swelled with joy as she glanced down at her own swollen belly. Six months pregnant with the King’s child.
“I will be the one to give him an heir. And once he sees that, he’ll make me his Queen.”
Another person she despised was Brigid, the Queen, and it was because she was her competition.
Yvonne had grown up lowborn, covered in dirt, cast out and forgotten. Until she clawed her way into nobility—starting as a mistress.
She had served her way through the noble ranks, but her true target had always been the former king—Duncan Thornevale. That man was the epitome of perfection. And, for a time, he was unmated.
But gaining his attention was impossible. He had his own mistress and handpicked those who served him. Yvonne was never among the chosen. She knew she had no chance once Duncan fell ill, became betrothed, and eventually found his mate. So, she shifted her focus to Lord Lucas.
She became his favorite until Lylah came into the picture. Yvonne didn’t complain at first, not until Lucas began showing interest in Lylah. Before she could strike, chaos descended.
Now, she was with the new King's favorite mistress who had allowed her to carry his child.
Mistresses were never permitted to bear their master’s children. But for Toran to allow it? It meant he was considering making her his Queen. Especially since his current Queen was useless.
Maybe she could help him.
Maybe she could help Toran kill Brigid.
••••••••••••••••
Toran found Brigid sobbing on the floor. She was a broken mess, but not even a flicker of concern crossed his face.
“You!” Brigid snarled when she spotted him, gritting her teeth. She charged at him and delivered a heavy slap across his face.
The eyes of the servants and guards widened in horror. They all knew how mad and terrifying Toran could be. How the demon inside him never rested.
As if the first slap wasn’t enough, she hit him again. This time, he snapped. Not caring that she was still recovering from the strain of childbirth, he grabbed her by the neck and slammed her against the wall.
“Everyone. Leave,” Toran commanded.
As they all scrambled out in a panic, Toran backhanded her face hard. She fell, her lip split open.
“The next time you dare raise your hand against me will be the last time you have a hand,” he growled.
“You monster!” she screamed. “They were your children! You promised you'd keep this one, but you lied to me!” Tears streamed down her face. “I should have five children by now, but you keep killing them. Do you even feel anything?! They did nothing to you! You mad, puppet fucking king! You have no power. You’re just following the rule of—”
She didn’t get to finish. He struck her again, dragged her from the floor, and threw her onto the bed. The sound of shackles made her eyes go wide.
“What are you doing?” she panicked as he chained her down, face flat to the bed. She was too weak to move, too broken to struggle.
“I only want an heir. That’s your only fucking duty,” he snarled, yanking her head back by the hair.
She winced in pain.
“Why can’t you be a good little wife, fairy, and stop provoking me?”
“I hate you. I fucking hate you!” she cried. “Why can’t you just let me go? Marry one of your mistresses! They’ll give you an heir! Just... please, let me go.”
He chuckled, gripping her hair tighter. “You’re the one I want, Brigid. You, and only you. No one else is fit to be my wife, sweetheart.” He kissed her tear-streaked cheek. “The only way you’ll ever escape me is through death.”
“You’re sick. You’ve been sick ever since you killed your family. Your father, your sister, your friend, Selene. Sick puppet king!”
Toran’s eyes reddened. His jaw clenched so hard it ached. That word 'puppet' triggered something deep and unhinged inside him. She’d said it twice.
“You asked for it, wife,” he whispered, tearing her dress to reveal her bare back. Then he brought out the whip.
Brigid expected it.
Toran had been her personal hell from the moment he forced her to marry him. The male had lost his sanity after that goddamned ritual. He hurt her for pleasure, laughed at her pain. Only when she was pregnant did he stop. She had lost her first pregnancy the same day Selene was killed.
Was this karma? Her punishment?
Brigid flinched at the sting of the whip brushing her skin. Then—snap.
The first lash tore through her back, searing into her, but she didn’t scream. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
More lashes came. She winced with each one, but stayed silent despite the pain, swelling and agony.
After the ninth lashes, she was trembling and bleeding.
He held her softly and leaned close to her ear.
“I want my heir. And the next time you call me a puppet, I’ll have my soldiers fuck your ass until my feet can fit in it,” he whispered, then kissed her damp cheek.
He meant every word.
When he’d once threatened to burn her thigh, he did. The scar still remained.
“We're having a lovely life, aren’t we, my dearest wife?” he chuckled, unchaining her before kissing her hair. “I love you.”
With that, he left.
Brigid remained on the bed, trembling, the weight of her situation crushing her, burning her from the inside out.
And out of pure frustration, she screamed out. Loud, insane, and broken.
•••••••••
Lylah had just finished washing off the blood on her and tending to her wounds. The deep ones were still healing, painful but she was used to them already.
She gets wounds everyday, it was part of her daily routine.
She pulled off her clothing leaving just the bind that press against the swelling of her breast.
She gat this sexy built frame that could leave one salivating, only that they got many scars and she covered them with tatoos. It was forbidden but hella, she doesn't care… she loves them.
She stood in the mirror admiring one in particular, a bear logo around her waist.
*We look sexy. When are we going to have sex?* Nyx chimed in her head.
“fuck you, Nyx”
*No, you can't fuck me. I'm your inner wolf. You've got to find a male, a pretty one to precise, with a big dick, the full moon is close. We ain't dying a virgin, are we?*
Lylah inhaled sharply. Gawd! She wish she can strangle her wolf right now.
She approached her bed to rest but she frowned at the sight of a sealed letter.
Someone must had came into her room while she was at the arena.
She slid it open and frown at the message.
Unknown: Your sister's body was never found and I'm going to help you escape. I know some other things but you'll have to wait until I show myself.
Lylah’s eyes darkened. They never found her sister’s body? They had lied?
She threw the paper in the small fire place and watched it burn with a predatory gaze
Who sent her this?
And if by any slim chance Arianna might be alive? Where the fuck had she been all these years?