Kidnapped By The Werewolf Alpha King (completed)

Chapter 12

After a brief wait, I decide to venture out quietly, intent on delving into my own investigation. Navigating the corridors, I recall Sylvia's guided tour and make my way to the lower levels. Despite a few wrong turns, I eventually stumble upon the library. Fortunately, it's deserted at this late hour. Scaling a ladder, I begin scouring the shelves for any literature on Lycans. It's a painstaking process, but after some time, I uncover three promising titles: "The Royal Lycan Family History," "Lycans and Their Fall of a Nation," and "Lycans: The Enemy."

I open the first book, "The Royal Lycan Family History," and eagerly search for any mention of my father, Henry. However, to my disappointment, there's no trace of him. It becomes apparent that this book hasn't been updated in ages. As I peruse the family lineage, I come across the name of the deceased king, Lucian, and his sole son, Drake. The lineage abruptly ends with Drake, leaving me with more questions than answers. Studying their portraits, I notice the striking resemblance between them—red hair, blue eyes, features that echo my own, albeit with some differences due to my mother's influence. Feeling frustrated by the lack of information, I set the book aside, resolving to explore the other volumes in hopes of uncovering more about my mysterious lineage.

I then open the next book, titled "Lycans and their Fall of a Nation." Its pages recount a time when Lycans held immense power and were revered as guardians of the supernatural realm, ensuring harmony and balance. Yet, everything changed with a tragic event—the murder of Oden by his own son, Tylnor, who happened to be Lucian’s father.

The narrative plunges into a dark era where the supernatural world was plunged into chaos and fear. Tylnor and later Lucian initiated a reign of terror, enslaving and mercilessly slaughtering other supernatural beings. Many sought refuge, hiding from the relentless onslaught.

However, hope emerged from the shadows as the werewolf Alpha, leader of all werewolves, rallied the supernatural community against the Lycans. A fierce war ensued, resulting in the near annihilation of the Lycan population. While most were slain, rumors persisted that Drake, Lucian's son, managed to escape along with a handful of survivors. The true count of survivors remains a mystery, as historians offer conflicting accounts, but they concur on one thing—Drake's body was never found, leading to speculation that he evaded capture. Processing this revelation leaves me in a state of shock. My ancestors, revered as guardians, were revealed to be monsters, perpetrating atrocities beyond comprehension.

I then grab the last book, "Lycans: The Enemy," and its pages reveal horrifying images of Lycans in their transformed state, towering in size and terrifying in appearance. It delves into the various powers possessed by Lycan royals, alongside detailed instructions on how to kill them, accompanied by gruesome illustrations of their slaughter.

As I turn the pages, my heart sinks at the sight of images depicting the brutality of war, with werewolves mercilessly slaughtering Lycans, including innocent children. Tears stream down my face as I confront the grim reality of my heritage and the atrocities committed by both sides.

Amidst my distress, I sense Asher's panic through our bond. "Where are you?" his voice echoes in my mind. With a heavy heart, I inform him of my whereabouts, seeking comfort in his presence even from afar. The revelation of my people's monstrous deeds weighs heavily on my soul, compounded by the realization that werewolves, too, had blood on their hands, staining their legacy with the innocence lost in the throes of war.

Feeling Asher's comforting embrace, I glance out the window and notice the rain falling outside, mirroring the storm raging within me. As Asher holds me, concern evident in his voice, I begin to recount the chilling truths I've uncovered in the books. Tears stream down my cheeks as I describe the atrocities committed by both my own people and the werewolves during the dark chapters of history. The brutality inflicted upon the Lycans and the innocents caught in the crossfire fills me with a profound sense of sorrow and dread.

With a trembling voice, I express my deepest fear to Asher: the looming threat of persecution and violence should my true identity be revealed to his pack. The thought of facing their wrath, knowing the depths of their savagery, sends a shiver down my spine. "Asher," I whisper, my voice heavy with apprehension, "if they discover who I am, they won't hesitate to kill me. I can't stay here. I need to leave."

Upon hearing my words, Asher's expression shifts, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and determination. He gently brushes away my tears, his touch offering a sense of reassurance amidst the turmoil.

"I won't let anyone harm you, Airabella," he says, his voice firm with resolve. "I'll do everything in my power to protect you." With a determined gaze, he begins to formulate a plan, his mind racing with possibilities. "you can't run from this," he says, his tone unwavering. "But we can face it together." With a renewed sense of purpose, Asher turns to me, his eyes alight with determination. "We'll confront the truth head-on," he declares. "Together, we'll find a way to ensure your safety and peace of mind."

As we retreat to the bedroom, the weight of the revelations weighing heavy on my mind, Asher's comforting presence provides a sense of comfort. Curling up beside him, I find refuge in his embrace, his arms wrapping around me protectively.

The warmth of his body against mine soothes the turmoil within, offering a sense of security amidst the uncertainty. In the quiet intimacy of the moment, I find myself grateful for his steadfast support, grateful for his unwavering presence by my side.

In the morning, Asher's hands begin to explore my body, igniting a fire within me. "Let me help you have a great start to your day," he whispers seductively, his breath warm against my skin. His lips find my breasts, and his fingers find their way inside me, eliciting a moan of pleasure. As he kisses me deeply, his lips trail down to my mark, sending electric pulses throughout my body. "I can smell your desire for me," he murmurs, his words sending shivers down my spine.

With an overwhelming urge, I yearn for him, feeling myself grow wet with anticipation. Asher's lips move lower, kissing me while expertly pleasuring me with his fingers. Spreading my legs, he delves between them, his tongue dancing over my c**t, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. The sensation of his mouth on me is exquisite, and I can't help but moan with each flick of his tongue.

His words of encouragement drive me closer to the edge, and soon, I feel the tension building within me, ready to explode. "c*m for me, my Luna, c*m for me," he whispers, his voice sending me over the edge as I reach the peak of ecstasy. As I release, he comes up to me, his lips meeting mine in a passionate kiss. "You taste amazing, I could eat you for every meal," he murmurs against my lips.

Now it's his turn, and he positions himself between my legs, his hard c**k ready to claim me. As he enters me, a shiver runs down my spine at the sensation of him filling me completely. With each thrust, pleasure courses through me, and I find myself moaning his name in bliss. "You're mine," he declares, and I respond, "Asher, I am only yours," our words punctuated by the rhythm of our bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

In a crescendo of passion, we reach the pinnacle together, our bodies entwined in the ecstasy of shared desire. As we come down from our euphoric high, I turn to him, a smile playing on my lips. "This is the perfect way to start the day," I declare, feeling content and fulfilled in his embrace.