Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 60

Adelaide

The devastation before us was even worse than the reports had described. As our escort approached the Greywolf Pack territory, I watched Greyson, the pack leader, emerge from the ruins of what had once been a thriving settlement. His towering frame had withered to gauntness, bloodshot eyes sunken deep in a face carved by worry and sleepless nights. Despite his obvious exhaustion, he dropped to one knee with practiced reverence.

"My King," his voice rasped with the strain of recent hardships, "thank you for coming to our cursed lands."

Lycanthar's presence commanded immediate attention as he gestured for Greyson to rise. "Have the infected moved to the northern forest encampment as ordered," he commanded, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority. "Deploy mages to establish protective barriers against further intrusion by the Hungry Ones." His golden eyes swept across the skeletal remains of homes and barns, jaw tightening at the scope of destruction. "Show me the worst cases immediately."

While the King issued orders with military precision, I observed the controlled chaos around us. Vespera moved with well-honed efficiency, directing soldiers to establish guard posts around the perimeter. His green commander's cloak billowed as he positioned sentries with torches designed to repel the beetle swarms. The flickering magical flames cast dancing shadows across the desolate landscape.

I slipped away from the main group and walked toward the makeshift medical area where the infected lay. Their suffering called to something deeper than duty—it awakened the same compassion that had driven me to tend wounded soldiers in Eldoria's courtyard as a child.

Meanwhile, Liliana glided through the camp like a predator selecting prey. I watched from the corner of my eye as she approached a harried deputy responsible for lodging arrangements, her voice honeyed with false concern. "Where will His Majesty's tent be positioned? As his blood thrall, I must remain close to serve his needs."

Her calculated performance made my stomach turn, but I forced myself to focus on the young female werewolf before me. The poor creature's skin bore the telltale black veins that pulsed beneath the surface like infected rivers.

"Human girl," she whispered suddenly, her fevered grip surprisingly strong around my wrist. "Your touch... gentle like my mother's." Her eyes flickered with momentary clarity. "The sickness began when Moon Creek changed color... black beetles emerging from the water's edge. Few at first, then swarms beyond counting. They devour everything..." Her voice grew weaker. "Strange thing—they always seem to come from upstream."

The woman's words sparked recognition. Moon Creek—I had studied maps of this region during our journey. If the source lay upstream, perhaps we could trace the origin of this plague.

"I need to investigate the creek," I murmured to myself, already forming a plan.

"Investigating alone would be suicidal." Vespera's gentle voice made me turn. He had approached quietly, his expression thoughtful. "These Hungry Ones respond to movement and warmth. My magic can shield us both if you're determined to pursue this lead."

His offer surprised me. Most werewolves barely tolerated my presence, yet Vespera consistently showed kindness that transcended species barriers.

"Thank you, Commander," I said gratefully. "Your protection would be invaluable."

The dried creek bed stretched before us like a wound in the earth. Vespera's magical barrier shimmered around us, deflecting the chittering beetles that swarmed toward any signs of life. Their frustrated screeches sent chills down my spine as they scratched uselessly against the protective dome.

"Look there," I pointed toward an area where the soil had been disturbed in an unnatural pattern. "That's not ordinary drought damage."

Kneeling carefully, I began to excavate the loose earth. My fingers encountered something that made me recoil instinctively—clusters of translucent, oval objects that pulsed with sickly green light. Thousands upon thousands of them, arranged in configurations that seemed almost ritualistic.

"Insect eggs?" I breathed, horrified by the sheer volume.

Vespera crouched beside me, his expression grim. "In three centuries, I've never witnessed anything like this. No natural creature could produce such quantities." He carefully collected several specimens in a crystal vial. "We must analyze these immediately."

As we made our way back to camp through the gathering dusk, my mind raced with implications. The geometric arrangement of the egg clusters troubled me deeply—it resembled magical symbols I had glimpsed in ancient texts.

Approaching Lycanthar's tent to report our findings, I hesitated as voices drifted through the canvas walls. Liliana's artificially breathy moans made my blood freeze.

"My King... you need nourishment... let me serve you..."

The intimate sounds that followed felt like daggers piercing my chest. I stood paralyzed in the moonlight, tears threatening to spill as the reality of my situation crashed over me. He had chosen her. Again.

My hand remained suspended inches from the tent flap as I listened to the woman who had replaced me in his affections. My throat felt as if it were blocked by a scorching stone, making it impossible for me to breathe, but I forced myself to step backward into the shadows.

Perhaps I had been foolish to hope that our brief connection during the ritual meant anything to him. He had made his preferences clear, and I was nothing more than a useful tool in his recovery.

Liliana

Victory coursed through my veins as I knelt before Lycanthar in the intimate confines of his travel tent. Months of careful planning had led to this moment, and tonight I would finally claim what should have been mine from the beginning.

The expensive "Abyss Desire" perfume I had purchased from the black market before our departure was already working its magic. The scent was designed to amplify primal urges, breaking down even the strongest mental barriers. Since returning to human form, the King had maintained frustrating distance from me, treating me as nothing more than a blood source. Tonight, in this remote wilderness, I would shatter that cold reserve forever.

"My King," I purred, tilting my neck in the submissive pose that never failed to arouse werewolf males. "You must be exhausted from today's journey. Allow me to comfort you."

His fangs pierced my throat with unusual force, drawing blood more aggressively than his typical feeding. I felt the intoxicating rush of the process, my body responding with deliberate arousal as I deliberately loosened the silk ties of my bodice. The purple fabric slipped from my shoulders, revealing my breasts in the candlelight.

I pressed myself against his broad chest, feeling his breath quicken against my skin. His golden eyes had taken on a reddish tinge—a sure sign that the perfume was affecting his self-control. When his large hands moved to cup my waist and then travel upward to my breasts, I knew I had him.

"Take everything you need from me," I whispered, my voice deliberately husky with manufactured desire. "I live to serve your pleasure."

My fingers moved lower, seeking the fastenings of his belt. This was the moment I had dreamed of—when I would finally possess the Wolf King completely, binding him to me through physical intimacy that would make him forget every other woman, especially that insufferable human bitch.

But just as I began to loosen his clothing, Lycanthar's entire body went rigid. His head snapped up, looking past me toward the tent entrance with an intensity that made my blood run cold. The haze of arousal cleared from his eyes as if swept away by an arctic wind.