THE LYCAN KING'S FORBIDDEN HEIR

Ronald Spence

Fantasy | Ongoing

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A prophecy long buried in Lycan lore speaks of a child born of two rival bloodlines-a child destined to unite the fractured packs but cursed to overthrow the reigning king. Seren Duskbane, a fearless rogue, never imagined her path would cross with Lucian Veylor, the brooding and enigmatic Lycan King. When a fateful encounter binds them in a forbidden union, Seren discovers she carries the heir that could change the fate of their kind. As whispers of the prophecy spread, they face enemies from within and beyond their packs-forces that see the child as either salvation or destruction. With time running out and danger closing in, Seren and Lucian must navigate treacherous alliances, unearth ancient secrets, and confront the prophecy's devastating truth.

Legend Thriller Fantasy Secret relationship Scheming Alpha Royalty Noble Mediaeval

Chapter 19 19

01-14 16:50

Chapter 1 1

Seren Duskbane POV

The air was sharp, laced with the bitter bite of winter as I crouched in the dense underbrush. My breath fogged in the moonlight, dissipating into the night as quickly as my patience. Somewhere in the forest ahead, a lone deer moved, its hooves crunching softly against the frozen ground. I had been tracking it for nearly an hour. Hunger gnawed at my insides like a caged animal, and I had no intention of returning to camp empty-handed.

I adjusted my grip on the bow, the smooth wood familiar beneath my fingers. Every sound felt amplified in the stillness: the creak of my boots against the frost, the soft hum of the wind rustling through skeletal branches. For a rogue like me, survival wasn't a luxury-it was a daily battle. And tonight, the stakes were higher than ever.

I drew the bowstring taut, the tension singing in my ears, and exhaled slowly. The deer lifted its head, ears swiveling as if sensing my presence. My heartbeat slowed. One more second...

A twig snapped behind me.

I spun instinctively, the arrow releasing from the bow with a hiss. It struck the trunk of a nearby tree with a dull thud, far from my intended target. My hand flew to the dagger at my belt as a shadow emerged from the darkness.

"Easy, rogue," came a deep, gravelly voice. The figure stepped into the moonlight, revealing a man with piercing silver eyes that seemed to cut through the night. His dark hair framed a face both sharp and rugged, like a predator carved from stone.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded, keeping my blade steady.

His lips curled into a faint smirk. "I could ask you the same question. But I already know."

My muscles tensed. "I don't care who you think I am. You've cost me my dinner."

"Dinner," he echoed, his tone dripping with amusement. He gestured toward the fleeing deer, its white tail vanishing into the trees. "Apologies, but I wasn't aware you'd staked a claim on all the wildlife in this forest."

"Do you always sneak up on people, or am I just lucky tonight?"

He took a step closer, and I resisted the urge to retreat. There was something unsettling about him-not just his sudden appearance but the way he moved, deliberate and fluid, like he owned the ground beneath his feet.

"Seren Duskbane," he said, his voice low but unyielding.

The sound of my name falling from his lips sent a shiver down my spine. "You've got the wrong person."

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, the air between us seemed to still. "No," he said. "I don't."

I tightened my grip on the dagger, adrenaline surging. "If you're here to settle some grudge, get in line. But I'm not going anywhere without a fight."

His gaze softened, though his expression remained guarded. "I'm not your enemy, Seren. I'm here to warn you."

"Warn me about what?"

"The prophecy."

The word hung in the air like a thunderclap, and my heart skipped a beat. I'd heard whispers of it before, fragments of old stories told around dying campfires. A prophecy that foretold of a child born to unite-or destroy-the Lycan kind. But what did that have to do with me?

"You've got the wrong rogue," I said, shaking my head. "I don't believe in fairy tales."

He stepped closer, and this time I did retreat, my back pressing against the rough bark of a tree. "You don't have to believe," he said. "But that doesn't make it any less true."

"And you expect me to trust you?" I scoffed, though my voice wavered.

"No," he said simply. "But you don't have a choice."

Before I could respond, a distant howl pierced the night. It was deep and mournful, carrying a warning that sent a chill through my veins. The man's expression darkened, and he reached for the sword strapped to his back.

"They've found you," he said.

"Who?" I demanded, but he didn't answer.

Instead, he grabbed my arm, his grip firm but not painful. "We need to move. Now."

I hesitated for a heartbeat too long. Shadows erupted from the trees, a group of figures with glowing eyes and snarling faces. Lycans, their forms half-shifted, moved toward us with predatory grace.

The man-Lucian, I later learned-shoved me behind him, drawing his blade with a fluid motion. It gleamed silver in the moonlight, an extension of his arm as he faced the approaching threat.

"Stay close," he ordered.

I didn't need to be told twice.

What followed was chaos-a blur of teeth, claws, and the metallic clang of steel. Lucian moved like a force of nature, his strikes precise and deadly. I fought beside him, my dagger slashing through fur and flesh, but for every enemy we felled, more seemed to take their place.

"Who are they?" I shouted over the din.

"Loyalists," Lucian said, his voice tight with strain. "They want the prophecy fulfilled on their terms."

"And what does that mean for me?"

"Death," he said grimly.

Fear clawed at my chest, but I pushed it aside. There was no room for weakness here, not when survival was the only option. Together, we fought our way through the onslaught, our movements synchronized despite the short time we'd known each other.

When the last of the attackers fell, Lucian turned to me, his face smeared with blood. "Are you hurt?"

I shook my head, though my body ached from the effort. "I'll live."

"Good," he said, sheathing his sword. "Because this is only the beginning."

I stared at him, my mind racing with questions I didn't know how to ask. Who was he, really? Why did he know my name? And what part did I play in this prophecy he spoke of?

"Start talking," I demanded. "Now."

Lucian's silver eyes met mine, and for the first time, I saw something beneath his stoic exterior: determination tempered by regret.

"Your life isn't your own anymore, Seren," he said. "You're part of something much bigger than you realize. And whether you like it or not, the fate of our kind rests on your shoulders."