The Lycan King's Forbidden Craving - Chapter 53: Chapter 53

Nights had always been his favorite. Especially the full moon.
A night for sex—or a hunt.
He preferred sex.
A night when the females in his pack would throw themselves at him, their eyes filled with lust, craving his attention.
A night when he could relax in a warm bath, enjoying their eager touches. Or, on some nights, he would hunt like a predator in the woods, satisfying his thirst for bloodshed.
But tonight felt different.
Never had he felt such fury and uncertainty. As each second passed, the thought of losing everything he and his father had worked for gnawed at him.
Hours had passed. Soon, the sun would rise, casting its light upon the land.
“Brother?”
Valkyrie stepped into the room, her palms sweaty, her heart pounding. She found her brother lost in his thought by the window. She knew exactly what was troubling him.
She had heard the hushed commotion.
The King’s rut.
“Oh, poor Atlas,” Toran muttered, lifting his glass of ale to his lips and taking a slow sip. His gaze was hard. “It was so difficult getting that vial… what a waste of a plan... She should be dead by now. But plot twists happen when it comes to that bitch.” He glanced over his shoulder, meeting Valkyrie’s eyes. “Don’t they?”
Valkyrie stayed silent. The unreadable look on her brother’s face unsettled her.
"The King left his chamber, stormed into the woods... and he hasn't returned," Toran scoffed, turning his gaze back to the window. "What do you think happened? Did he go looking for her?"
"Maybe he was just in the forest," Valkyrie said at last. "Maybe… it was only a coincidence."
"A coincidence?" Toran repeated, disbelief lacing his voice.
“Yes, Brother,” she echoed.
“Then you shall go into the woods and help the King instead of her,” he said.
The color drained from Valkyrie's face.
“I cannot…”
“Why?” Toran began approaching her with slow, deliberate steps. “You are the King’s betrothed, the only one who has attracted his presence out of all the noble females…”
“Well, I cannot sit on that throne if I’m dead.”
“Isn’t that better? Hmm? To die trying?”
Valkyrie was not surprised by his words. Back when she was first chosen as the King’s betrothed, her father and brother had pushed her into satisfying the King’s rut, despite knowing the danger lurking beneath it.
Brutal plunges into her, her body unprepared, the unbearable pain as she cried for him to stop—but the King had not heard a thing.
Hideous claws. Baring fangs. A terrifying gaze that pierced her soul.
That night had traumatized her. If not for the Alpha blood in her veins, she would have died three times over.
She had barely survived. The wounds ran deep, and healing had been agonizingly slow before she was finally able to piece herself back together.
Yet, even though the King had hurt her during his rut, she had still performed her duty. Somewhere along the way, she had become obsessed.
Obsessed with the King.
And even now, she did not want to stop. If she could become his Queen, her father and brother would finally respect her.
Toran pointed at the open window, his gaze never leaving her. “Do you realize that if that girl survives the second rut once again, many will witness it? Your position will be at stake.”
“I understand. But there is simply nothing I can do,” she replied, her voice finally bold but laced with frustration.
She had tried her best. Despite being the King’s betrothed, there was no romance between them. And now, with Arianna’s arrival, everything had only worsened.
Toran clicked his tongue. “I suppose I’ll have to tell Father everything.”
Her eyes widened as he turned to leave.
“No. No, Toran, don’t. Father would skin me alive.”
“That is—” he smirked, pausing mid-step, “if you do not become the Luna of this Citadel. But if you succeed, Father will respect you instead. He will worship at your feet. Even I would. However, if that does not happen… I cannot save you, dear sister. One way or another, he will find out.”
His voice was smooth, calculated, as his gaze shifted toward the dark forest. “My coronation is in two days. I must return to the pack.”
He sighed, resting his hand against the cold stone. But as he looked back into the woods, his brows furrowed.
“He’s coming out,” Toran mumbled.
Valkyrie rushed to his side, her heart pounding.
“Alone?” she breathed.
“He’s holding something.”
Toran shifted into his half form for better vision. His jaw clenched.
“He’s holding her.”
The sun was beginning to rise, its orange hues spreading across the sky.
King Duncan, clad in his regal wine-colored robe, emerged heading the sacred Moon Wings. His every step exuded power and grace.
And in his arms—
Her.
Arianna lay cradled against his broad chest, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling in slow, steady rhythm. Her naked frame was covered by a soft white robe.
Behind Duncan stood Nyra. She had brought the clothing into the forest after hearing the King’s call.
The warriors, who had gathered in case of an emergency, slowly knelt on one knee, inclining their heads in respect as the King passed.
The onlookers were stunned, whispers rippling through the air.
Was Arianna still breathing?
Why was the King carrying her so possessively?
The aura around him was suffocating—thick, demanding, filled with a silent warning:
Do not touch her.
Among the crowd stood Selene. Her expression was unreadable, but her mind was in turmoil. Drakora’s message still lingered in her thoughts.
Nearby, Lylah and Brigid stood together, both fixated on the scene.
This was the first time Lylah had seen the King in person.
His presence was just as terrifying as they had described—his aura bone-chilling. But her gaze flickered to her sister, lying unconscious in his arms.
“Is she alive?” Lylah, with teary eyes, moved to step forward.
Brigid caught her arm. “Trust me, you don’t want to go near him. And as for your sister—she’s alive.”
The air was filled with curiosity, blending with awe. Seeing the King carrying a woman was truly a shocking sight.
As Duncan approached his chamber, his gaze dropped to the woman nestled against his chest like a kitten seeking warmth, finally finding solace.
'Mine' Ash whispered sweetly. Tonight, it had a real connection.
"Dun," she whispered in her sleep, drawing her face closer and smiling sleepingly.
Duncan's lips curled up to a small smirk at her cute behavior.
Tssk! He had just called her cute.
"Bring her belongings to my chamber," Duncan directed his order to the head warrior whose lips parted in shock, wondering if he heard right.
"Your Grace, are you saying she'll..."
The king's flicked a deadly gaze at him.
The head warrior bowed. "Yes your Grace, it will be done right away."