The Lycan King's Forbidden Craving - Chapter 210: Chapter 210

Most of the soldiers nodded in agreement. The ones that had wanted to follow Rodaric were slowly contemplating.
“I am your commander, and I order you—”
“We will do no such thing as following your orders, Rodaric,” the older soldier stood, approaching. “Do you know how hard it is to watch my mate drown in the pit of losing our child all because the ruler of the Moon Realm turned deaf ears? Of course, you don't.”
“You are soldiers. Pain is part of what we experience. We swore our loyalty to the throne.”
The old soldier laughed bitterly. “I swore my loyalty to the one who deserves the throne, not the one who sent us to die in vain. If King Duncan is truly gone, his blood remains.”
They knew of Rheal Thornevale. One of them overheard the whisper and told them.
King Duncan’s heir.
Rodaric was boiling. “These Ouroboros. You have no idea what they can do. They are tricking us. They did it centuries ago and stabbed us behind our back. We are fighting them to protect our home…”
“What home?”
Rodaric paused, breath ragged. The old werewolf soldier stood before him unwavering. Even though their rank was a Lycan to Alpha.
Rodaric growled. “Do whatever you want,” he looked at the others. “If you want freedom, then you must follow me! If you choose to die, then stay here!”
He spun to leave.
The cold wind did nothing to cook of the heat in him. Rodaric glued himself to a large tree. The town was silent—they had gone to sleep.
Rodaric snuck in the shadows, heading straight to a particular housing, right where Duncan's heir should probably be.
Footsteps light, his hideous claws grazing the shadows. He sucked in like a breeze but halted when the room was empty.
“Looking for me?” a tiny voice said behind him.
Rodaric turned to see the boy Rheal for the first time, and it wasn't hard to know he was indeed the one. The striking resemblance to Duncan.
“Little son, come here.”
He needed to be careful. Take the boy to the woods, threaten Arianna and finish the job.
“I'm not stupid. You're sneering with claws out while sneaking into my room. You clearly don't have good intentions.”
Rodaric stilled. Smart mouth. Not a surprise.
“Yes. I'm here to kill you,” Rodaric admitted.
“Why would you want to end a barely six years old boy?”
“Because you shouldn't exist. I'm simply doing you a favor.”
Rodaric was too consumed by his rage to think his actions through. But this was Arianna's kid.
The boy didn’t flinch.
“You should tell that to my mom.”
Rodaric’s smile disappeared, and before he could digest those words, a hand settled on his shoulder. Gentle, only that they felt hot against his skin. And the worst thing was… he couldn't move.
His eyes darted slowly—very slowly—to the side where the hand rested on his shoulder.
Then he met those silver burning eyes that screamed… You’re dead.
“I was hoping you’d come to your senses along with your fellow soldiers, but I was simply wrong about that.”
The way her voice alone sent chills down his spine, and the aura emitting from her made him wonder—just how much power does she possess?
Arianna flicked her gaze to her son.
“Son, close your eyes and count to three before opening them.”
Rheal obeyed, gluing his tiny palms to his face with a cute smile.
Arianna brutally twisted Rodaric's arm until his fingers touched the back of his head, and just as he was about to scream, they vanished—and reappeared on top of the largest mountain.
Rodaric dangled at the top with a rope from his tunic in Arianna's hold.
That was the first ability Drakora taught her, and she was fast enough to grab it. Ashen Steps—an ability to travel from one place to another with the thought of her mind—places not too far. Places she had once been and imagine. Places she can see.
Rodaric breath ragged. The height of the mountain was insane.
“Wait, I can—”
Arianna released the rope, and the world slowed down around Rodaric. He fell, hitting his head hard, breaking his backbones, and sustaining several injuries, but not enough to kill him.
In his hazy state of pain, Arianna grabbed him again, disappeared, and appeared on the mountain once more.
Rodaric’s eyes flew wide. Again, before he could finish his sentence, she released him.
Another brutal hit against the cold, hard ground. He saw black dots blanketing his vision.
She grabbed him again. Up to the mountain.
“Wait—please—”
Release.
Mid-fall, he was suddenly hit by the realization of his Lycan. The fear had zeroed the reminder, so he shifted. Bones shifting, fur, fangs, wings snapping out… he landed on his four paws.
This must end now. He was going to take Arianna down. Right here. Right now.
He roared at her.
Arianna scoffed.
Oh she was going to deal with this motherfûcker for even daring come close to her son.
•••••
{North wings}
No one.
Absolutely no one told her s3x could be this—
Raw. Violent. Addictive.
Lylah’s body trembled, her throat dry from the screams she couldn’t stop. She was supposed to beg for mercy, but instead, her lips curved into a twisted smile—because, heaven help her, she craved more.
More touch. More thrust.
Just fuck me hard, mate.
And he was. The slick, hard slap of flesh echoed in a rhythm that shouldn't exist.
Too much. Her heart might explode from the intensity. That twist in her stomach came again—snapping violently, detonating. She convulsed around his phallus.
But she was exhausted. Her heat had come too hard, too fast, after years of suppressing it. Her bones ached. Her head felt like it might split in two.
Even Nyx… couldn’t keep up.
Amidst the pleasure, she had felt pain. For a moment, she truly thought he was about to destroy her completely.
He buried his nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling sharply as if she were some addictive elixir.
He groaned.
The sound animalistic. Raw. Absolute. Lust.
It wasn’t over. She knew that.
Not when his breath and deep voice made her body tremble all over again.
Her neck was held firm, her back pressed tightly against his broad chest. His hot breath kissed her ear.
The way he locked her hips, drawing almost all the way out only to plunge back in deep—
His thrusts turned rougher.
More erratic.
Punishing.
Desperate.
Lylah's body wrecked beneath him, dripping and sore, yet her hips still rose to meet every slam with equal need.
Her walls stretched, burning at every spot he struck. Her legs trembled, barely able to hold her weight. Yet she couldn’t stop moaning. Couldn’t stop begging.
“Oh... Gawwwwd,” she scrambled out unintelligible words.
It was insane how her body took his roughness. Was this how every heat and rut felt?
And then—she felt it.
A swell.
Pain slammed through her system. Her eyes widened. Pleasure vanished.
He was stretching her, demanding deeper access—and it was excruciating. Tears sprang to her eyes.
She struggled, trying to pull away, but he locked her in place with a growl, forcing her to take every inch.
The knot popped in with brutal force, locking deep inside her.
Lylah screamed.
Loud. Raw. Hoarse—as orgasm tore through her like a violent storm, shattering her into pieces.
Then he roared, head thrown back, as his release poured into her. Heat so intense, it sent her over the edge again.
Lylah panted hard. Body shaking in his hold as his cum dripped, trailing a slow path between her thighs.
He let out a satisfied purr. He held for a long while, until her eyes began to roll back...
But just before she passed out… she heard his voice for the first time in years.
Hallucination?
No… It sounded real before the darkness swallowed her…
“Little wolf… mate…”