Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Cassian,

Cyrus had turned the entire forest upside down, leaving chaos in his wake, all in a desperate quest to find our mate. While I myself felt no emotional pull despite the strength of our mate-bond, Cyrus was a different story altogether. He wandered through the woods relentlessly, like a man possessed, retracing his steps over and over until at last we left the dense trees behind and made our way to Brady’s farmhouse.

The farm belonged to Sean Brady and his sister, who supplied roughly eighty percent of the fresh vegetables and poultry that stocked the Royal kitchen. The air was crisp and carried the faint scent of earth and growing things, but the thought of Roana trekking across the entire mountain range with open wounds gnawed at me, twisting uneasiness deep in my chest.

Then, as Cyrus stepped into the backyard, the sharp scent of jasmine—uniquely hers—wafted through the cool night air. There she was, curled into a tight ball beneath a blanket, fragile and small. Nearby, Sean Brady—the young man who usually delivered their produce every morning—lay close by, as if silently guarding her.

Cyrus’s steps faltered, his jaw tightening until the muscles stood out sharply. Veins pulsed visibly along his neck, and his eyes darkened into stormy pools of anger.

“What are you doing here, My Luna?” His voice was low, rough, vibrating with barely contained fury. His entire body trembled with displeasure at the sight before him: she was lying on the cold grass in the chill of night, nestled beside another man, looking almost too safe, too protected.

Roana flinched, her fingers twitching beneath the blanket as she attempted to push herself up. But Sean was quicker, springing forward with boots scraping dirt, blocking Cyrus’s gaze with a firm stance. His chest rose and fell rapidly, brows drawn together in a scowl, lips curling into a low growl.

“Who are you?” Sean’s wolf spirit flickered in his eyes, golden and fierce for a fleeting moment. He spread his feet wider, muscles taut like a coiled spring. His voice wavered with a mix of fear and defiance, yet he refused to back down.

Cyrus’s lip curled, fangs glinting dangerously. Without a word, he shoved Sean aside with effortless strength, sending the young man stumbling backward onto the ground.

“My Luna!” Cyrus dropped to his knees beside Roana, his expression softening the instant his eyes met hers. His claws gently peeled the blanket away from her face. His lips quivered as he whispered, “You scared me. Why are you here?”

Roana’s eyelids fluttered open, and she leaned her cheek against his claws without hesitation. Cyrus carefully rested the back of his furry hand against her skin. Her body was burning hot.

Sean scrambled to his feet immediately, shoulders rigid, fists trembling. He darted between them once more, face pale but resolute. I could see the concern etched deeply in his eyes.

How close had they grown in just a few hours for him to display such possessiveness?

“Don’t touch her.” Sean’s voice cracked, but he stood firm. His gaze flicked to the bandages wrapped around Roana’s arm, then back to Cyrus, fire sparking even as his hands shook. “She’s injured.”

“Injured?” Cyrus’s growl shattered the night, rolling through the woods like thunder. His eyes flared crimson, every fiber of his being charged with rage. For the first time, Sean’s bravado wavered. He flinched, eyes dropping briefly, but then forced his chin back up, sweat beading at his temple.

“Wait… Is this… Your Majesty?” Sean’s voice faltered, confusion spreading across his face. His wide eyes shifted rapidly between me and Cyrus, disbelief dripping from his words. “Why is Your Majesty calling Roana Luna and…?”

Cyrus ignored him entirely, his focus riveted solely on Roana. He lifted her effortlessly into his arms, as if she weighed nothing. She let out a faint, weak sound, too fragile to resist. His gaze sliced down at Sean, cold and merciless as a blade.

“Thanks for protecting my Queen,” he said sharply, the words cutting like a whip. “But you should know your place, kid.”

Sean’s cheeks flushed bright red, a mix of humiliation and anger. His jaw clenched tightly, eyes narrowing, but Cyrus’s overwhelming presence silenced him. He opened his mouth once, then closed it again, fists trembling helplessly at his sides.

Cyrus turned to leave, but Sean suddenly darted inside the farmhouse. His steps were frantic, his voice muttering something hurriedly. Moments later, he returned, clutching a small pouch in his hand. His eyes flicked to Roana’s pale face, lips pressed into a tight line as he extended the pouch toward Cyrus.

“Please wait!” His voice cracked, desperation seeping through. “This is the antidote for the poison… and her phone. I’ll send Candy tomorrow!”

Cyrus didn’t spare him a glance. He snatched the pouch, tightening his arm around Roana, and began heading toward the mountain.

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