The Lycan King's Forbidden Craving - Chapter 206: Chapter 206

“It’s a girl.”
Yvonne stopped breathing at the male mage, Sahrak’s, revelation. Her drained of color.
She waited for the gothic-looking man to laugh and tell her it was a cruel fucking joke, but his face remained as stoic as ever.
“What do you mean it’s a girl?”
“‘It’s a girl’ means it’s a girl. Is there another way to explain that?”
The mage spoke as though those words weren’t triggering. She had waited almost a month for this news, and this was all she got?
That in three months, she was about to give birth to a girl.
“You must be kidding, right?”
Sahrak simply scoffed and rose to leave, but Yvonne grabbed him by the arm. He raised a brow.
“Do it again. I can't pay a fortune only to get this. You must have made a mistake somewhere!”
Sahrak shrugged her off.
“You are not the problem, woman.”
Yvonne’s brows creased. “What do you mean?”
“The probability of the king having a male child is nearly impossible.”
“Impossible?” Yvonne’s body shook. “And yet you never told Lord Valoreth?”
“He never asked.”
Before she could speak again, the man left, leaving Yvonne frozen in shock. Toran was the problem?
But… but… this can’t be.
She came out of the room but couldn’t find the mage anywhere. That man was so mysterious and annoying. He irked her.
Instead, she decided to find Toran.
There was chaos outside the Citadel gate. The people in the realm had gone crazy, demanding the king’s presence but that wasn’t her concern.
Brigid was still in prison, and ever since, Yvonne had been trying to make the king take her as his Queen.
Though she tried to deny it, even though King Toran looked insane sometimes… he was truly in love with Brigid. He had been so quiet lately, and she knew Brigid was the reason.
But Yvonne didn’t plan to stop anytime soon.
Outside the gates of the Citadel, chaos raged.
Hungry, tired, and frustrated wolves crowded the entrance, ready to tear the place to pieces.
The few guards struggled to hold the line—spears raised, eyes shifting nervously between the crowd and the iron gates that separated them.
Growls and howls grew louder, frustration pulsing like a heartbeat through the mob.
"Bring out the king!"
"You monsters! Do you even care about us?!"
"You selfish pieces of shit! You're sitting and eating while we keep dying!"
"Come out!"
"Bring out the king or we’ll tear this place apart!"
"Listen to us, assholes!"
Inside, the tension was no better.
Maids panicked in the corridors, soldiers marched out to assist the overwhelmed guards.
The swelling crowd outside looked ready to tear down the towering gates.
Roars and shouts shook the air.
"Enough is enough! We need a true king!"
"Bring back our true king!"
•
Valoreth marched quickly toward the king’s chamber, his breath ragged. The situation outside was spiraling out of control.
Never had he imagined it would reach this stage.
He flung the door open and spotted Toran slumped drunk in the corner of the room. Several jugs of ale were scattered around, and Valoreth couldn’t help but shoot a glare at the king’s attendant.
“His Majesty threatened to take my head. I... I tried to stop him,” the young man stammered, flinching.
Valoreth stormed over and grabbed Toran by the shoulder, yanking his head up.
“What do you think you’re doing, Your Grace?”
Toran opened his bloodshot eyes, his face flushed as he slurred,
“Drinking... I’m drinking, dumbass.”
Valoreth’s jaw clenched. He turned to the others.
"Out. All of you.”
Once the doors shut, Valoreth picked up one of the jugs and smashed it beside Toran. The king didn’t even flinch.
“I should’ve known better than to make you king! You’re acting insane. It’s your fault those people are outside, ready to break down the gates. If you had acted like a king instead of drinking and fucking around with women, none of this would’ve happened!” Valoreth shouted.
Toran let out a drunken laugh at the accusation.
“My fault? Why don’t you take the throne, then?” he slurred, locking his drowsy eyes with Valoreth’s. “Besides, you’re the one who told me to fuck around so I could give you a damn heir. What more do you want?”
“I want you to act like a king. Like a leader. Look at you. You’re a failure.”
“Oh, please. Tell me something I don’t know.”
Valoreth scoffed in disgust.
Toran kept going. “You talk like you know how to rule but you keep sending people into the hell you’re afraid of. You’re a failure too, Valoreth. A bigger one.”
He reached for more ale, but Valoreth slapped it away and grabbed him by the royal robe.
“You’re going to come with me and face those people. You keep quiet, and I’ll do the talking. Once we get them off our backs, we just need to wait a little longer. Once the soldiers return victorious, and the devil and his people are gone, everything will go back to normal.” His voice dropped to a low, dangerous tone. “Do you understand, Toran? Those people need to go away.”
A wild, wet smile crept onto Toran’s lips.
“Fine. I’ll come with you.”
“Remember—don’t say anything. Just stand behind me,” Valoreth said.
Toran nodded. “Understood... Your Grace,” he said with a dark chuckle.
Valoreth clenched his fists, released the king’s robe harshly, and straightened his own.
"I'll prepare a formal speech in case you need to say something at the end. Don't screw this up."
Stepping out, Valoreth controlled his breathing and marched off to find someone.
Sahrak was feeding his fish when his door burst open.
"If you're here to ask me to open the king’s coffin, I’m sorry, but I’m not taking that chance, Lord Valoreth."
Valoreth grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall.
"What are you hiding?"
Sahrak frowned. "What?"
"Let me get this straight. The king took the poison."
"Correct. He kissed his mate’s poison-coated lips."
"And while he was in a death sleep, you stabbed his fucking heart and he died."
"Yes," Sahrak confirmed.
"It’s been seven years. He should be rotting by now, right?"
"You’re the one who asked me to lock him up. The spell chain can only be broken with a sacrifice. Someone you love," Sahrak said calmly.
"Don’t give me that bullshit! I lost my wife to make this happen. I risked everything. So tell me—how am I supposed to shut those damn people outside up without proving to them that Duncan is fucking dead. I want his head, no his fucking skull?!"
Sahrak clicked his tongue. "I don’t think that’s my problem."
Valoreth released him and cursed under his breath.
"King Duncan is dead," Sahrak said as he poured himself some water. "Stop worrying yourself about him especially now that there's a high probability his mate is dead."
"I can’t help it. Everything’s falling apart. There hasn’t been any news from the war. Nothing. I sent thousands of soldiers. Shouldn’t they have returned? What’s taking them so long to destroy those devils, who are weaker than flies?"
Sahrak said nothing, making it feel like Valoreth was talking to himself.
Realizing this, he turned and left while Sahrak continued feeding his fish.
"My Lord!" a soldier called, running up to Valoreth. The older man paused, glaring at him.
"The people—they’ve torn down the first gate!"
"Then kill them. Shoot them with arrows! Scare them away!" he roared in frustration.
Amy, who happened to be in the hall, saw this. Once Valoreth was out of sight, she quickly made her way toward Sahrak’s room in secret.