The Dragon's Lycan King

Chapter 5: The Bleeding Moon Part 1

Before I could unleash the furious, blistering words bubbling in my throat, the atmosphere in the grand hall violently shifted. The flickering candles suspended above us extinguished in a single instant, plunging the massive room into shadows illuminated only by the roaring flames of the massive stone hearth. The temperature plummeted below freezing. A suffocating, terrifying pressure slammed into the room, a physical weight that drove dozens of wolves straight to their knees, gasping and clawing at their throats for air. The heavy oak doors, which had been gently open to the breeze, were suddenly blown clean off their iron hinges with a deafening crack, the massive wood splintering out into the dark night.

Through the swirling dust and howling mountain wind stepped a nightmare made glorious flesh.

Callum. The Lycan King.

He stood a colossal six-foot-nine, slowly rising from his chair. His chiseled features were carved from unforgiving stone, highlighting sharp, high cheekbones, a strong, square jaw, and a slightly furrowed brow that radiated a terrifying, commanding presence that made my bones ache. His tanned skin was taut over a violently muscular, battle-hardened frame, his dark leather tunic open at the collar to reveal a chest scarred from centuries of war. His short, black hair was completely tousled, as if he had just slaughtered an entire battalion on his casual stroll here. But it was his piercing, deep-set eyes, a striking, glowing shade of cold steel gray, that completely paralyzed the entire pack. His aura was an intoxicating, overwhelming blend of ozone, dark pine, and raw, absolute power.

"An Alpha who casts aside his strongest warrior for a shivering, useless ornament," Callum’s voice was a low, rumbling thunder that vibrated through the floorboards and settled directly in my pelvis. "How deeply, truly pathetic."

Marcus shoved Seraphina behind him, his teeth bared in an instinctual, yet entirely suicidal, challenge. "King Callum! This is a private pack matter, you have no jurisdiction here!"

"Nothing in my realm is private from me, little Alpha," Callum sneered, not even bothering to cast a glance in Marcus's direction. His steel gray gaze swept the trembling room and locked instantly, inexorably, onto me. The frigid air between us seemed to crackle and snap with high-voltage electricity. His heavy gaze stripped me completely bare. It was as if he could see straight past the sapphire blue dress, past my deep-toned skin, straight into my boiling veins. He didn't see a wolf-less outcast. He saw a queen wrapped in a disguise.

Callum began to walk toward me. Every single, deliberate step he took forced the surrounding pack members flat onto the floor, their heads bowed in total, agonizing submission to the Lycan King's crushing aura. Even Marcus was physically trembling, heavy sweat beading on his olive skin, entirely unable to step off the dais to stop him. Seraphina whimpered loudly, a genuinely fearful, pathetic sound this time, shrinking into a useless ball of pastel chiffon behind the throne.

I didn't kneel. I couldn't. My vivid red eyes stared defiantly up into his glowing steel gray ones. The white eyelashes framing my vision fluttered rapidly as he stopped mere inches from me. The sheer, radiating heat pouring off his massive body was completely overwhelming, an intoxicating cage that silently promised both absolute destruction and ultimate salvation.

"You bled for a coward," Callum murmured, his voice dropping to a dark, gravelly register meant only for my ears, sending a shiver straight down my spine. He reached out, his massive, heavily calloused hand brushing gently against the ruffled neckline of my sapphire dress. His rough touch sent a violent shockwave of pure electricity straight down to my core. "A terrible tragedy. But a highly fortunate one for me."

"I...," I whispered back, my voice trembling slightly, not from the terror gripping the rest of the room, but from the sudden, overwhelming pooling of intense heat between my thighs. My traitorous body was fiercely reacting to his dominant presence with a primal, desperate ache that completely defied logic.

"You belong to me," Callum corrected smoothly, his tone leaving absolutely zero room for debate. His massive hand slid around to the sensitive back of my neck, his long fingers tangling roughly in my sleek black bob, resting just above the black choker. With a sudden, forceful pull, he yanked me flush against his rock-hard body. I gasped sharply, my breasts crushing against the solid expanse of his chest, my hips aligning perfectly with the thick, incredibly hard ridge straining against his dark leather trousers.