The Lycan King's Forbidden Craving novel Chapter 249

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249: Missed me?

Valoreth returned to his chamber, barely able to stay on his feet. H staggered, holding the nearby table for support.

Sleep.

By the gods, he needed a moment away from the voices in his head

His eyes settled on a painting on the wall. One he hadn’t noticed before leaving the room.

“How did this get here?” he whispered, stepping closer.

It was a painting of a dark–skinned, beautiful woman. Ocean–blue eyes, thick lashes, full lips curled into a dark smirk, an expression of hate. The painting felt alive, as though she were truly there, glaring at him.

“Mearina,” Valoreth whispered. There had never been a painting of her that looked like this. So how?

He dropped to his knees, struggling to breathe.

“Why are you… haunting me, Mearina? We both agreed you’d die so why are you being selfish?!” he croaked. “Is it because I want to marry our daughters off? Fine! I’ll leave them alone. It’s pointless anyway. The realm will fear me. There will be no king or queen. Just me.”

“Me!!!” he roared. “So stop appearing Mearina! Leave me the fuck alone! Do you think I’m not haunted by your death? It eats at me every damn day!”

He rose and lunged at the painting, claws tearing through it furiously, shredding it to pieces.

“Stop appearing! This is not my fault!”

He tore the last piece off, panting. Fingers dug into his scalp as he chuckled to himself.

He collapsed on the bed, still hearing those voices.

And now… his daughters‘ hateful voices joined them.

Unable to take it, Valoreth screamed.

Night fell swiftly, darkness shrouded the sky as the full moon began to rise.

The footsteps of the Alphas echoed as they gathered in the wide field leading to the Grand Court.

All of them were shivering, surrounded by weapons and soldiers ready to strike.

None dared to make a move yet–not until they understood what Valoreth truly intended.

After witnessing the deaths of fellow Alphas, none of them were willing to act recklessly.

A hand rested on Elder Varyn’s shoulder. The old man paused, glancing over it.

“You’re the leader of the groups that went against Lord Valoreth. Am I right?”

Elder Varyn raised a brow. “And you must be the one who sold us out.”

The Alpha snickered. “You really think I care about the betterment of this realm? Crushing the poor beneath my feet is the finest feeling one could ever have.”

“So you sold out the people in your pack just to feed your greed,” Elder Varyn said.

“They’re mine. I can do whatever I want with them. They’re poor and worthless. I’m sure I’m not the only Alpha who thinks that way. This world should be ruled by fear.”

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Elder Varyn smirked. “I can’t wait to see Alphas like you burn in hell tanight.”

The Alpha’s smile vanished.

“Look around old man You still think this realm will be saved?”

The old man simply smiled. “I don’t think so. I know so.”

“This male is not in his right mind,” one whispered to another as they saw Valoreth approaching, flanked by heavily armed soldiers.

“Just be quiet. All we need to do is bend the knee and get the hell out of here,” the other replied.

Valoreth began to lead them toward the Grand Court, but stopped at the scent of blood, thick and fresh, coming from behind the large, imposing doors. It wasn’t just the blood; it was the presence coming from within.

Valoreth shut his eyes, shaking his head as if what stood before him was just another hallucination.

He stepped forward, signaling his soldiers to open the doors. As they did, the scent grew stronger… the blood visible, trailing across the floor.

Valoreth walked further, eyes fixed on the red path.

What is going on?

Why does this place feel like a ritual chamber, as though someone was just sacrificed?

The Alphas behind him wore the same confused expression, whispering the same question that echoed in Valoreth’s mind.

The blood continued, and Valoreth followed the trail with his eyes as he walked in further. It dragged on until it reached-

By the gods.

Valoreth froze, and so did the others.

In the middle of the room knelt a bleeding, battered male on all fours. A male Valoreth recognized.

Sharak. The dark mage.

Sharak’s body trembled, skin torn, ribs protruding as though each breath drained what was left of his life.

A cruel weapon driven through his back, black iron, forged thick, jutted out of his stomach and plunged into the ground, pinning him in place like a sacrifice… Or maybe a warning.

No one moved. No one spoke.

Then came the sound. Footsteps.

Slow. Gentle. But dark.

Each one reverberated like the beating of a monstrous heart.

A pair of golden–red eyes pierced the shadows behind the iron grand throne.

A presence that made the cold blood in the Alphas‘ veins run colder

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