The Lycan King's Forbidden Craving novel Chapter 247

247: The gathering

The gathering was happening tonight, and all Alphas were to attend. It was the talk of the town. Many were unsettled because the gathering was meant to dispel the rumors about the previous King, Duncan.

Some believed he had been poisoned and killed by those in power others believed he was alive and possibly trapped somewhere, as rumors about a coffin and spell had spread.

There was so much confusion to clear, so many unanswered questions. All the realm wanted was an explanation. But one thing

baffled them…

Why was the gathering scheduled for nightfall under the full moon?

Only Valoreth knew the answer. It wasn’t just a night of gathering. It was a night of terror. Tonight, he was going to set everything straight and let the realm know that doubting him came with consequences.

Valoreth allowed the maids to dress him in his robe and apply makeup to conceal his ghostly appearance. After they finished, he dismissed them, his gaze fixed on the mirror.

Staring back at him was a male worn down by countless sleepless nights due to the relentless nightmares. Even the makeup barely hid the damage. Dark circles framed his eyes, and his breathing was so labored it looked as if he had aged twenty years in just a few weeks.

Not a single moment of peaceful sleep had been possible for weeks.

And Sahrak? That worthless piece of filth had been missing ever since the nightmares began. Valoreth had searched every nook and corner of the palace, but he was nowhere to be found.

But as long as the mage still walked this earth, he would find him and demand an explanation for his condition.

Valoreth could barely think straight. It was as if whatever had haunted Toran had chosen him as the next target. But he hadn’t been the caster–so why? Why the hell was he seeing things?

The nightmares kept getting worse. His dead wife stabbing him repeatedly. Scenes from the war with the Ouroboros. Him being burned, tortured, and killed in the most brutal ways. Visions of Duncan and Arianna haunting him with their faces and words.

He was even starting to hallucinate. He didn’t know what was real anymore.

When it came to physical wounds, his Lycan side could handle it. But emotions and mental torment were his burden to carry

alone.

“Your Highness. The Arena is ready. All Alphas have assembled,” a guard said from behind.

It was the guard without a wrist. Valoreth looked at him, his jaw tightening.

“You know… I’ve been wondering. What happened to that missing wrist of yours? Lost it in battle?”

“No, my Lord,” the guard replied, voice firm. “The previous king severed it after I hit Arianna while she was still a slave.”

“That bastard loved her deeply. She turned out to be his weakness. Valoreth chuckled. “What’s your name, blot?”

“Orien, my Lord.”

“Orien. The light bringer. Ironic name. You served Toran’s sister… what was her name again?… Uhm… Vic?”

“Lady Valkyrie.”

“Ah, that one,” Valoreth pointed. “You lured her out, knowing her brother was about to kill her. You’re quite the devious guard, don’t you think?”

Orien remained silent, wondering if Valoreth was drunk or mentally unstable. But Lycans never got drunk… so it had to be the latter.

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pas The gathering

“Pot that’s what I like about you. I love that evil fire,” Valoreth leaned forward, voice serious. “And I’m going to need it tonight. That’s why I’m sending you over there. Bring terror to the land and carry out the plan. Do that, and I’ll give you whatever you want, Orien.”

Orien bowed his head. “Yes, my Lord.”

The arena was packed. Alphas from different packs had gathered. At the moment, a fight between four gladiators was ongoing

Blood soaked the floor. Blades, claws, and glowing eyes flashed beneath the low–hanging sun as cheers rose among the Alphas.

Not all of them were pleased by this. Only a few weren’t into the bloody scene. Watching wolves kill each other instead of simply showcasing their strength wasn’t part of their culture. But what could they do?

This had been going on for over six years, and stopping it was beyond their power, especially when the majority supported it.

They had been given strict orders not to bring any weapons or guards, which meant they were all defenseless.

Elder Varyn was also among the Alphas, representing the Ravenhood Pack. He had insisted on coming, despite Arianna’s concerns that it was dangerous.

But he was the acting Alpha for the time being, until a true one was chosen. And while he still held the position, he was determined to do what was necessary.

One of the gladiators finally rose to victory. Bloody, sweaty, and covered in critical wounds. As he was announced the winner, he collapsed to the floor, exhausted. The healers quickly stepped in to carry him out of the field.

Deep, hollow drumbeats echoed through the arena, bringing the vast space to silence. Lord Valoreth’s presence was

unannounced.

He stepped further in, heading toward the king’s seat.

This caused whispers to rise among the Elites, but none challenged him. They waited to see what was about to unfold.

With a single raise of his hand, Valoreth brought the murmurs to a halt, save for a few hushed whispers among the Elites.

Where is the king?

“Welcome, all of you,” Valoreth’s voice rang out as he stepped where everyone could see him. “Today, we gather to learn the truth. And this gathering will mark a new beginning. A new rule. A new everything.”

Valoreth’s gaze swept over the crowd, his voice steady. “For weeks now, I’ve heard your gossip. Your pathetic little whispers. About King Duncan. About spells. About poisons. About coffins that open and don’t.”

A low, dangerous chuckle escaped him. “Let me help you sleep tonight, that’s if any of you still can. Duncan is dead. And I, Valoreth Bellion, killed him.”

Eyes widened. A few Alphas rose to their feet in shock. Some exchanged wary glances, while others remained calm, as if they had expected it.

Voices rose among the crowd as the gates below opened. A silver coffin was carried out by soldiers to the middle of the field. They flung it open before everyone. Inside were two skulls.

“That belongs to Duncan Thornevale and his mate, Arianna Greystone, the one we all know as the devil,” Valoreth said.

The murmurs grew louder. Eyes moved frantically from one person to another as they stared.

Valoreth raised his voice above the noise. “He was weak. And weakness, in this realm, is death. He was a king who placed love above legacy. A king who let a mere girl pull his leash. For that, the realm fell.”

“Liar!” one of the Alphas roared, his face red with rage, as though he had been holding it in for too long. “Ever since the king died, the realm has fallen. He and his mate weren’t devils. You are!!”

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