Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 56

Chapter 56

Roana,

We ran. Ran like my life was depending on these fast movements. Thanks to Rye’s ability to see through the darkness and her unmatched speed, we did everything we could to survive. The dry leaves made subtle crackling noises beneath our paws, the wind struck against our eardrums, and the cold breeze rushed past like a sharp frostbite.

But no matter how much we ran, I didn’t know where we were heading. It felt like my life-dragging myself toward a destination I couldn’t see, guided only by fear and instinct. I didn’t have a home in the first place, so there was nowhere to

return to.

My chest ached. Each breath came out broken and shallow. My legs trembled from exhaustion, and the pounding of my heart echoed through my ribs like a desperate drum.

I wondered if Cassian was worried about me. Maybe he sent people to search for me. The thought made my stomach twist painfully. Did I create trouble for him again?

At this point, my right arm was growing numb every passing second. We were pushing ourselves hard enough to break. Either we would die from the poison or from running until our hearts gave out.

My throat burned with dryness, my tongue heavy as sandpaper. Every swallow felt like swallowing fire. Hunger clawed at my stomach, but thirst was far worse-it made my vision flicker and blur. I didn’t even know where Rye was leading us anymore.

Then her voice echoed inside, sharp and sudden. “I can smell something sweet!”

“Sweet?” I repeated weakly, struggling to inhale the scent she had caught earlier. When the faint fragrance brushed my nose, I realized it was wildflowers. The sweetness mingled with the damp smell of soil and night air.

“We are heading to the valley,” I said, forcing the words out between shallow breaths. “Rye, keep an eye on the flowers. We may find some antidotes for the poison.”

“Roger that,” she replied, her tone firm but slightly strained.

The wound on my arm had closed up a bit, the bleeding slowing down, though the throbbing pain was unbearable. My fingers twitched with every heartbeat. Time was important now. If there was a bush of wildflowers nearby, there was a chance-maybe small, but still a chance-to find somethin

that could stop the poison from spreading too fast.

“We are here!” Rye’s voice rose suddenly as she halted, standing before a narrow stream. The moment the cold water touched her paws, she jumped in, splashing into it with a low gasp before lowering our muzzle to drink as much as she could.

The icy water burned down our throat, shocking our body awake. For a moment, I could feel the poison slow, just slightly.

“Gosh, I thought I was going to die,” Rye purred, crawling forward on two legs across the stream, heading toward the valley. Our breathing was rough, uneven. My body felt heavier than before, but the cool ground beneath us gave a small sense of

relief.

We collapsed onto the grass, chest rising and falling rapidly. The air was filled with the soothing scent of something faint yet familiar. I blinked hard, trying to clear my dizzy vision, when that scent grew stronger-sweet, calming, and cold at the same

time.

Rye stood up again, wobbling slightly on three legs. Her claws dug into the soil as she scanned the area. Her golden eyes glowed faintly under the dark canopy, catching the shimmer of something nearby.

“They are all…” She trailed off, stepping forward.

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Before us stretched a bed of Moonflowers-the rare kind that never bloomed in daylight. Their silver-white petals glimmered under the faint moonlight, swaying gently with the wind. The sight was unreal, almost divine.

“I didn’t know a place like this existed,” I whispered, stunned by the beauty of it. Rye bent down, bit one of the flowers, and swallowed it. She winced slightly as the petals touched her tongue.

“It’s sweet but grassy,” she muttered with her nose scrunching up in distaste as she walked through the bed of glowing

blooms.

My eyes followed her movements as my mind began to connect the dots. “Come to think of it… don’t you think we smelled something familiar before, mixed with ashes, when we were attacked by those rogues? Alexander’s mistress was controlling

them.”

Rye’s head snapped up. “That’s right.” Her tone sharpened. “They carried the scent of flowers-but burned ones. Charred petals and ashes.”

“Similar to the Black Moon Flower,” I said quietly, scanning the area again for anything that might help us.

“There is one!” Rye suddenly jumped toward a small bush, her paw brushing aside some grass to reveal a cluster of herbs known for neutralizing venom.

I crouched closer, my body aching with every move. “I don’t think this is enough,” I said, my voice weak but clear.

“As long as we can slow the poison down,” Rye replied, still sniffing through the grass.

But both of us froze at once. The air shifted. A sharp, bitter scent cut through the sweetness of the Moonflowers. It was the same scent-burnt ashes.

Rye lifted her head slowly, ears twitching. Her entire body went still, alert. The smell was coming from near the edge of the valley, close to the Black Moon Flower that only bloomed on the new moon. But tonight, the moon’s thin crescent was still visible. Something wasn’t right.

Curiosity overpowered exhaustion. Rye began to move toward the scent, her steps/soundless against the grass. I could feel her heartbeat steady but tense. Maybe, just maybe, we would see the Black Moon Flower blooming at this impossible time.

We left the Moonflowers behind and slipped through the bushes. The air grew heavier. My skin prickled as if warning me to stop, but Rye didn’t hesitate.

When we finally pushed past the last branch, the sight ahead made my blood run cold.

Rye growled softly, crouching low behind a tree. Her tail stiffened, and I could feel the tension rippling through our body.

A group of people stood in the open, dressed in long black robes. They formed a circle, whispering in an ancient tongue I couldn’t understand. Their voices rose and fell like waves of dark enchantment. The air around them pulsed with strange energy, thick enough to make the ground vibrate faintly beneath us.

Before I could even process it, the earth began to tremble harder. I recognized that sound-the deep thundering rhythm of many wolves running together.

Rye pressed our body tighter against the trunk, holding her breath. My heart hammered violently, the vibrations shaking through my ribs.

“They’re here!” one of the robed figures shouted as a pack of wolves burst from the shadows.

Countless of them surrounded the small group. Their eyes were glazed, their movements lifeless, mechanical-as if their bodies were being controlled by some invisible force.

Then the same scent hit us again. Black Moon Flower.

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We watched silently as the figures placed something on the ground-petals, blackened and still glowing faintly-and the wolves lunged at them, devouring them as if starving.

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