The Lycan King's Forbidden Craving - Chapter 44: Chapter 44

Lylah stepped into the barracks, nervousness and excitement washing over her.
With a small smile, she watched the warriors train hard under the sun. Their swords flashed against each other, meeting with sparks as the warriors' eyes burned with determination.
There were barely any females among them—two, no, just three out of so many warriors!
Females were mostly seen as breeders, wives meant to stay at home and care for their offspring. They were regarded as fragile, something to be protected.
But Lylah didn’t dream of that life. She wanted to be on the battlefield, fighting to protect her people while her sister ruled.
Just the thought of it bought a sense of tranquility to every fiber of her being.
She glanced at the scroll in her hand—the one Lord Lucas had sent a maid to give her, instructing her to deliver it to the head warrior.
Lylah approached the large, broody man standing with sharp eyes, watching the training warriors with a commanding presence. A dark scar ran from his forehead down to his chin and chest, giving him a menacing, intimidating look.
"Good morning, Ser. I'm Lylah Greystone," she introduced herself, holding out the scroll to him. "This is from Lord Lucas."
The broody warrior took the scroll, glanced through it briefly, then tied it up.
"Come with me," he ordered, walking into the building.
Lylah followed him through the corridor, her smile never faltering as her mind wondered what her first training session would be like.
But to her surprise, he led her to a large room where several people were dressed in servant attire washing dishes.
"Get to work," the man commanded.
What?!
Lylah frowned. "I'm not a servant, Ser. I'm here to be a warrior."
Perharps the male had mistakened her for another.
"Warrior?" The man glared at her. "Look at you—you’re just a little—"
"I'm seventeen. I'm not little!" Lylah cut in, ignoring his intimidating aura. "The Grand Lord gave me permission—"
"I don’t care what the Grand Lord says." He took a step forward, his height looming over her. "All I care about are the requirements to be part of us."
He pulled out a sheet and shoved it at her. "Read the instructions."
Anger rose in Lylah’s chest, but she tried her best to hold it in. She crouched down and picked up the sheet.
It was a list of requirements to become a warrior.
"Number one," her voice trailed off, "must have a wolf."
"Now you understand why you’re not fit to be one of us," the broody warrior continued coldly. "Many females have died trying to be stubborn enough to join us. Only one I deem fit is Brigid, the maid—also the daughter of a late warrior—who’s doing everything to prove herself. You, on the other hand, can’t even be compared to her. You lack fighting skills, strength, and height. My weakest man could crush you."
Lylah gritted her teeth, clenching the sheet in her hand tightly. His words were sharp, cutting her deep.
"All I see is an impulsive, foolish, wolfless young girl trying to act tough—a reckless attitude that will get you killed," the broody warrior growled. "One day, you’ll realize I’m doing you a favor. A favor of not dying young."
His words contin to crush her.
The broody warrior declared, "Under no circumstances should you defy me, young one. I’m not merciful."
His footsteps echoed as he left, leaving her standing there with clenched fists, her knuckles turning white.
'An impulsive, foolish, wolfless young girl...'
His words rang over and over in her head, crushing her further.
••••••••
With the Grand Festival approaching, the palace had become more chaotic than usual. It was expected, given that this event only occurred once every decade.
There was so much to prepare, even Lucas barely had time for himself.
Duncan sighed, resting his head on the back of his chair. Suddenly, he felt overwhelmingly sleepy, a headache beginning to pound behind his eyes.
He barely slept, so the sudden urge to rest surprised him.
"Are you alright?" Lucas asked, noticing his condition.
The other two Lords present looked equally concerned.
"I’m suddenly feeling sleepy," Duncan grumbled.
"You should rest, King Duncan. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard these days. Rest is important," Lucas said, standing as his chair creaked behind him. "That will be all for today."
"I never said that," Duncan raised an eyebrow.
"Well, I did. I’m taking you to your chambers whether you like it or not," Lucas replied, his tone firm. He glanced at the other Lords. "We’ll continue tomorrow."
As the others left, Duncan muttered, "What a punk. Am I the king, or are you?"
"When it comes to your health, I outrank you, Your Grace." Lucas’s voice was tinged with humor. "Besides, even a king is useless if he collapses before the festival."
Duncan narrowed his eyes but stood anyway, his limbs feeling heavier than usual. "Fine. But only to get you off my back."
Lucas followed closely, ensuring Duncan didn’t stumble as they walked through the grand hallways of the citadel.
The usual bustle of servants and guards preparing for the festival buzzed around them, but Duncan barely registered it, focusing on the growing lethargy weighing him down.
As they walked, Duncan suppressed a wince at the splitting headache.
"Could it be your rut?"
Duncan considered it briefly, but his rut only occurred every two to three months. He’d had one not long ago, so it couldn’t be that.
"I don’t think so. The full moon is a few days away."
"Then I guess, you should limit pushing yourself too hard. Some bastards do not appreciate your effort," Lucas cursed, referring to the Alphas plotting against Duncan.
"They'll have a taste of their medicine soon, stop worrying about this old man" Duncan muttered and Lucas gave him a rare smile.
Duncan thoughts drifted to Arianna. It had been three days since he last saw her, smelled her, or touched her.
He had tried to see how long he could suppress his craving for her, distracting himself with endless work.
But the outcome was beginning to frustrate him.
As they reached the king’s chamber, Lucas opened the door. "Rest. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you."
Duncan waved him off lazily. "You’re too bossy for a Beta," he muttered before stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
With shallow breathing, the servants helped Duncan pull off his regal attire and announced that his bath was ready. He didn’t spend as long in the bath as he usually did and decided to have dinner after he woke up.
After the servants were dismissed, Duncan lay on his bed, his thoughts unbiddenly drifting to Arianna for the umpteenth time that day.
Perhaps he’d summon her for dinner...
With that, he let the darkness swallow him whole.