The Lycan King's Forbidden Craving - Chapter 187: Chapter 187

At midnight, Lylah was sleeping when she heard a crackling noise outside her door. Her eyes fluttered open--she was a light sleeper.
Her chamber was crafted in a heavily guarded wing. After her room came thick steel bars securing all four walls, and another barrier that led to the cell beyond, locked heavily and guarded by strong soldiers who took shifts day and night.
She stepped out of bed to open the door, only to see a strange male standing on the other side of the thick bars.
He slowly removed his hood, revealing his face and Lylah stared at the familiar male with a blank expression.
“You're Lylah Greystone,” he said.
“And you're one of the Lords of the Emissaries,” she muttered.
“Yes. I'm Lord Atheon, Lord of the North,” he stepped closer—nearly crossing a dark border line.
“Careful,” Lylah warned. “Many have died crossing that.”
Atheon glanced down at the black line that stretched across the floor.
He gave her an assuring nod, raising both hands to show he meant no harm. But Lylah didn’t trust anyone.
“Why have you come?”
“Did you see the letter?” he asked, voice queit.
Lylah tilted her head, stepping forward until she stood right before the bars that separated them.
“Let me make this clear, Atheon. I don’t care about your status or your Lycan strength,” she said, taking another step closer, her voice sharper than a blade.
“If, by any chance, you’re here to fuck with me, I will rip your spine out through your mouth and feed your heart to the rats in this goddamn prison while you watch.”
“No. I’m not here to harm you. I just need your help. No—we need to help each other.”
“What?” Lylah raised a brow.
“Your sister’s body was never found. The place where they supposedly fell was discovered, and only the beast bird’s skeleton was recovered. The ground looked like an explosion had happened. They said her body was perhaps burned, but no one could give a tangible explanation.”
A beat of silence.
“The other Lords are restless. If her body was truly burned, why didn’t they find bones? Something strange happened. And since she was said to be the Dragon Goddess’s daughter, anything is possible—including the fact that she might still be alive… somewhere.”
Lylah stayed silent for a long time, her expression unreadable.
“She’s dead,” she deadpaned, and Atheon’s shoulders slowly slumped.
“And I’m not leaving here until I kill those bastards—then kill myself afterward.”
She turned to leave.
“Your sister is alive somewhere, Lylah. Let me help you escape. Let me help you find her. The realm is in danger. People are suffering. She is the only hope.”
“Well, the realm fucking deserves it.”
“They were manipulated,” Atheon said, stepping forward.
Lylah shot him a hard look. “Do not cross the fucking line!” she growled.
Atheon looked down, realizing he had indeed crossed the black line. He quickly stepped back and apologized.
“I can’t help you. I’m not ready to get my hopes up again. The girl who hoped and desperately waited for things to turn around—she’s gone. Dead.” Her voice turned cold. She glanced at her tightly wrapped fist. “I’m empty. Far gone. So just go away.”
Atheon wasn’t ready to back down. “If you change your mind... the full moon is close. It’s dangerous, but it’s the best time to escape. I’ll make preparations. Whether you want them or not. It’s up to you.”
Lylah’s jaw clenched. Without another word, she shut the door.
••••••••••••••••••••
Valoreth was led into a secret dungeon, sacred and ancient. The air was chilly, heavy with the weight of silence.
The walls were built from age-old rock, and the place was reinforced with the strongest iron bars ever created.
In the center stood a large silver coffin, wrapped in massive magical chains forged from pure tungsten.
Sahrak, the mage, broke the silence. “There it is. Still the same as it was six years ago.”
Valoreth clicked his tongue. “Shouldn’t we open it and confirm if he’s rotted inside?”
“My Lord, his mate’s death was never confirmed.”
“That doesn’t really matter. You told me you stabbed him through the heart, confirmed his death, and chained him in here. Is that not so?”
“It is, indeed,” Sahrak affirmed. “But let’s not forget—he is the strongest male in the realm and his mate is a goddess' daughter.”
Valoreth grew restless. Nearly seven years had passed since the massacre, and that little devil’s death still hadn’t been truly confirmed.
And now, the realm was in chaos. Even at this moment, he had heard that two southern packs had gone to war with each other.
Bloodshed everywhere. Men and women starving. And soon, this would spark a greater war—one that could turn the entire Moon Realm upside down.
He even heard whispers… some were praying Duncan was still alive since In all the centuries Duncan ruled, never had such devastation fallen upon them.
Even in his so called death, Duncan Thornevale still felt like he is hunting him.