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Bound To The Ruthless Lycan King Novel Cover

Bound To The Ruthless Lycan King

7.7 / 10.0
Five years after fleeing her pack to escape haunting nightmares of a golden-eyed Lycan, a young werewolf returns home to seek a cure. However, a chance airport encounter with Rick Miller, her college's arrogant Alpha bully, reveals a terrifying truth. His scent and touch match the monster from her dreams. Realizing this cruel tyrant is the legendary Lycan King, she discovers her journey isn't a escape, but a path into the cage of her tormentor.

Bound To The Ruthless Lycan King Chapter 1

Elena's POV:

The forest was endless, the moon a sliver of bone in the black sky. My bare feet slapped against the cold, dead leaves, each step a gasp for air that my burning lungs couldn't find. This was the dream. The same one, every full moon, for five years.

It was the reason I’d left. The reason I’d traded the wild scent of pine and earth for the sterile anonymity of a human city.

Behind me, the hungry panting of three rogues grew louder. I could hear their saliva dripping, a wet, slick sound that echoed in the suffocating silence. They were close. Too close.

*Faster, Elena, they're gaining on us!* My inner wolf, Lyra, shrieked in my mind, her panic a blade against my own.

I pushed harder, my legs screaming in protest, but a gnarled root snaked out from the forest floor, catching my ankle. I went down hard. The sharp edge of a rock sliced into my knee, but I felt no pain. Only the deep, seeping cold of the earth and a soul-deep exhaustion.

I was tired of running.

They were on me in an instant, a triangle of matted fur and feral hunger. Their eyes glowed a feverish red, stripped of all reason. Low growls rumbled in their chests, a promise of the violence to come.

I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the tear of teeth and claw. Let it end.

But it didn't come.

Instead, a pressure slammed down from above, so immense it felt like the air itself had solidified. It carried the scent of an oncoming blizzard and ancient pine trees. The three rogues transformed from predators to prey in a heartbeat. They whimpered, tails tucking between their legs as they flattened themselves to the ground, trembling.

I dared to open my eyes.

A tall figure stood between me and them, his back to me. The pale moonlight carved out the shape of his broad shoulders and long limbs. He didn't turn, didn't even look at them, but a voice echoed directly in my skull, cold and absolute.

"Get lost."

The rogues scrambled to their feet, tripping over each other in their haste to obey, and vanished into the darkness.

The man turned slowly. I couldn't make out his face, the shadows clung to him like a shroud, but I could see his eyes. They burned in the dark, two pools of molten gold.

I knew those eyes. They were the source of every nightmare I'd ever had.

The raw Alpha power rolling off him was a physical force, pressing down on me, demanding submission. It made Lyra cower and my human side fight for breath. He started walking toward me, each deliberate step a heavy thud against my ribs.

He knelt in front of me, close enough that I could smell him. Pine and storm. Danger and something else, something that pulled at a part of me I had long buried. He lifted a hand, his long fingers reaching as if to wipe the dirt from my cheek.

I flinched back, a purely instinctual reaction.

His hand froze. The air, already cold, dropped another ten degrees.

"Did you think you could run, little one?" The voice was back in my head, laced with a dark, possessive amusement that made my skin crawl.

I found my own voice, though it trembled. "Who are you? What do you want?"

A low, humorless chuckle vibrated through my mind. It was a sound that promised nothing good. He rose to his full, intimidating height, looking down at me as a god might look at an insect.

"What do I want?" he repeated, the words tasting of cruel irony. "I want what's mine."

And then another voice, not Lyra's, not my own, roared through my consciousness with the force of a physical blow.

*Mine!*

It was him. The declaration was absolute, a brand of ownership seared onto my very soul. A sharp, stinging pain flared deep within me, as if some invisible contract had just been violently activated.

"You are mine, Elena Thorne." His voice was the final, damning judgment.

He knew my name. The shock of it was a splash of icy water. I scrambled backward, pushing myself up on trembling arms. "I belong to no one!"

He looked down at me, and those impossible golden eyes held not a single flicker of warmth. "It's not your choice."

He lifted his gaze to the cold, uncaring moon above.

"The Moon Goddess promised you to me long before you were born."

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Bound To The Ruthless Lycan King of Contents

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