Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 77

Lycanthar

I stood motionless in the council tent like a statue, and the very air around me seemed to freeze with the intensity of my rage.

"Summon Liliana," I commanded, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade through silk. "Immediately."

The werewolf guards who heard my words straightened their backs instinctively. They exchanged nervous glances before one of them bowed deeply and hurried from the tent to carry out my order.

When Liliana entered the tent moments later, I could see that her usual arrogant bearing had crumbled into something small and cautious. Her eyes were rimmed with red as if she had been weeping for hours.

The moment she saw me, she dropped to her knees without hesitation, her voice breaking with barely contained sobs. "My King... everything I did was because I love you... I couldn't bear to watch that human girl stand beside you..."

Her words were a mixture of genuine jealousy and carefully calculated pleading, but I was beyond the reach of such manipulations. The memory of Adelaide's tears—tears caused by my actions under Liliana's influence—burned in my mind like acid.

I moved toward her with deliberate slowness, each step causing the ground beneath my feet to tremble slightly with the force of my barely controlled power. "The 'Hungry Ones' in the oak grove," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "That was your carefully orchestrated plan, wasn't it? You led Adelaide into a trap. You drugged me and sought to use my own hands to harm her."

I bent down to look directly into Liliana's terrified eyes, letting her see the depth of my fury. "Anyone who harms her is beyond forgiveness."

The words fell between us like a death sentence, final and absolute.

Liliana's face went ashen, tears streaming down her cheeks. She crawled forward and clutched at my boots with desperate fingers. "Please, Your Majesty! Forgive me! For three hundred years I served as your blood thrall, I fed you through your darkest days... I only acted out of love for you, I made a terrible mistake..."

I reached down and grasped her slender throat, lifting her small frame clear off the ground. Her feet kicked uselessly at the air as her eyes bulged with terror. "Three hundred years of service?" I asked, my voice deadly quiet. "Your status as my blood thrall has made you too presumptuous, Liliana. You seem to have forgotten that I can always find a new blood thrall."

With a light touch of my finger to her forehead, I severed the blood bond that had connected us for three centuries. She fell to the ground, writhing in agony as the magical connection was brutally torn away.

"I will not grant you the mercy of a quick death," I said coldly, watching her suffering with complete indifference. I turned to the guards who stood at attention. "Fifty lashes. Then brand her as the lowest of slaves. When we return to the stronghold, she will be sent to the southern border slave camps for life."

Liliana's reaction was immediate and devastating. She clawed at the ground desperately, crawling toward me as if she could somehow change her fate through sheer desperation. "No! Please don't do this to me... kill me instead, I would rather die than..."

Her pleas were cut short as two guards seized her trembling form and dragged her toward the tent entrance. Her screams echoed through the camp as they pulled her away, gradually fading into the distance until only silence remained.

I turned to face the remaining commanders, my expression returning to the cold mask of royal authority. "Prepare the troops for departure. Once the purification ritual at Lycandor Keep is complete and the infestation is eliminated, we'll head back to the keep immediately." My eyes held the full weight of concern as I added, "Our people have waited long enough."

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Thalia

The candlelight in the administrative office of Lycandor Keep was warm, and Draven's shadow danced over the piles of documents and ancient maps. I stood by the window, gazing into the distance, as if waiting for some sign from the heavens.

Suddenly, urgent footsteps broke the peaceful silence, and a guard burst through the door. After offering a respectful bow, he reported breathlessly, "Commander, the sacred relics have arrived safely. The Phoenix Feather and Tears of the Elves are now under guard by ten elite warriors."

Draven and I exchanged a look of profound relief. Draven immediately rose from his desk, his voice carrying an excitement I had rarely heard from him. "Send someone immediately to retrieve the sacred spring water and the moonlight flower. All preparations must be completed before sunset."

As the guard departed to carry out his orders, Draven turned to me. "The purification ritual requires the most powerful mage to oversee it. I've already notified Chief Mage Carl."

I shook my head gently, my blue eyes sparkling with unwavering determination. "Let me conduct the ritual, Draven." My voice was soft but carried an authority that seemed to transcend my years.

Draven's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his face immediately clouding with worry. "Thalia, this is far too dangerous. Magic of this magnitude requires extraordinary energy control. One mistake could..." His words trailed off, but the protective instinct in his voice was clear, mixed with genuine confusion about my capabilities.

I moved closer to him, placing my hands gently on his arms, my gaze steady and sincere. "Only I have thoroughly studied the ancient texts and understand every detail and variation of the ritual. I cannot risk entrusting this to anyone else, not even the most skilled mage."

I took a deep breath, and for a moment, my eyes held that peculiar light that marked me as a true oracle. "Trust me."

Draven stared into my eyes as if searching for answers in their depths. Finally, he nodded slowly, his voice heavy with both resolve and worry. "I trust you, Thalia. But promise me—if there's any sign of danger, stop the ritual immediately." He gripped my hands tightly. "I'll personally lead the guard detail beneath the altar to ensure your safety."

As night fell, we made our way to the ancient altar that formed the heart of Lycandor Keep. The altar was constructed of silver-white stone, its surface covered with ancient werewolf runes that began to glow with soft blue light as the moon's rays touched them. Silver braziers burned around the perimeter, their flames constantly shifting shape as if anticipating the mystical ceremony to come.

I arranged the four sacred relics in the center of the altar with ceremonial precision—the Phoenix Feather's golden-red glow interweaving with the blue radiance of the Tears of the Elves; the Moonlight Flower blooming with silver luminescence in the night air; the sacred spring water sparkling with pure light in its crystal vessel. Every movement I made was exact and reverent, as if following the steps of some ancient dance.

Twelve werewolf mages formed a perfect circle around us, their staffs raised as they chanted ancient incantations, weaving a complex protective barrier around the altar. Draven stood with his elite warriors at the base of the altar steps, his eyes frequently lifting to watch me with a mixture of concern and trust.

When the moon reached its zenith, I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath, feeling the lunar energy flow into my body. I slowly raised my hands and began to recite the ancient incantation that had come to me in my prophetic visions. Though my voice was soft, it echoed above the altar as if amplified by some mysterious force:

"By the name of the Moon Goddess, by the blood of the wolf clan, by the power of these four sacred relics, I summon light to drive away darkness, I summon life to conquer corruption..."

As I spoke the words, the four relics began to emit increasingly brilliant light, their radiance intertwining and forming a pillar of light that stretched toward the heavens. Light enveloped my body, my golden hair flowing in the energy field.

Everyone who witnessed this moment held their breath, feeling the air fill with ancient and powerful magical energy. My voice grew stronger and more resolute, my gestures guiding the flow of energy as the ritual truly began to unfold...