The king wasn't happy. For sure it was not nice to lie to him.
He hated lies. It was a fact in the kingdom of Elodonia. Who would have dared to lie to the king of all people?
Althea gulped as she watched the lady who had just stood there literally shaking like a leaf. From the king's gaze it was obvious he knew it was her. There was no mistaking it.
But why had she lied? What would she have gained from lying?
Suddenly, a deafening, bone-chilling growl shattered the air, ripping through the tranquility like a vengeful beast unleashed.
Every nerve in the room quivered with a primal fear, and hearts pounded as if in a desperate battle for survival. In that moment, time stood still, breaths held in anticipation of the impending chaos.
Amidst the disarray, a young man, his face a mask of terror, erupted from his seat in the forsaken corner. His eyes darted wildly, desperately searching for an escape from the encroaching nightmare. With a surge of primal instinct, he abruptly pivoted on his heels, unleashing a frenzy of adrenaline-fueled determination.
But before a gasp could escape the trembling lips of onlookers, the gaze of the regal king, an embodiment of power and authority, locked onto the fleeing figure. A sinister glint flickered in his eyes, signaling an unspoken command.
In an instant, the air crackled with an electrifying energy as a ferocious Lycan, a creature molded by the darkness, sprang into action.
With an explosive burst of unparalleled speed, the beastly guardian lunged towards the young man, a predator closing in on its prey. A thunderous clash echoed through the chamber as their bodies collided, the force of impact reverberating through the very foundations of the room. There was no room for hesitation, no mercy granted.
The ground quaked beneath them as the Lycan, a merciless sentinel, seized the intruder, their desperate struggle unfolding in a flurry of limbs and raw power.
Fear, aggression, and unrelenting resolve merged into a turbulent storm of emotions that threatened to engulf all Althea's heart.
Her heart pounded with a deafening rhythm, and she instinctively averted her gaze, unable to bear the sight of the imminent carnage that seemed inevitable.
She thought he might kill the man. The gruesome image of the man's head being violently torn asunder by the Lycan's razor-sharp fangs flashed vividly in her mind, sending shivers of terror down her spine.
Then, piercing through the thick veil of dread, a bone-chilling scream erupted from the depths of the room, slicing through the tension-laden air like a dagger of sheer horror.
Althea's head snapped towards the source of the chilling cry, her eyes widening in alarm. It was the lady, driven by desperation, hurtled towards the king, her body collapsing onto the cold, unforgiving ground, her voice trembling with fervent supplication.
"Please! Oh, please, your majesty! I implore you, spare him! Spare his life!" Her words, drenched in a plea for mercy, reverberated through the chamber, hanging heavy with an almost palpable sense of despair.
As the flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows across the king's face, accentuating the deep scar that marred his visage, he regarded the pleading woman with an air of indifference.
His gaze, laced with a hint of sadistic pleasure, bore into her soul, relishing the torment he inflicted upon those who dared to beg for mercy.
"Why should I?" The king's voice dripped with apathy, his lack of concern palpable. Yet, a glimmer of excitement danced in his eyes, revealing a twisted delight in the suffering of others, as if the act of torture held a perverse allure for him.
Her voice strained with desperation, the woman continued her fervent plea, her words laced with a mix of aggression and despair.
She pounded her chest in anguish, emphasizing her role in the transgressions committed. "Please, your majesty! I beg of you! I would do anything! It was all my fault," she implored, her voice trembling with a mixture of guilt and fear. "We were desperate to be united in marriage, but my family refused to listen. If I had remained unwed, your highness, I knew my fate would be sealed. You would have sentenced me to death."
A disdainful sneer curled upon the king's lips, a testament to his utter lack of empathy. "So, you thought it acceptable to deceive me?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt.
Frantically shaking her head, the woman vehemently denied the accusation. "Never, your majesty! I would never dare to deceive you. The blame rests solely on my shoulders. I accept full responsibility," she stammered, her head bowed low, almost as if she sought absolution through repeated prostrations upon the cold, unforgiving ground.
Althea could only bear witness to the heart-wrenching scene, her heart heavy with sorrow. The rumors were true. The king stood before them as a cruel and remorseless ruler, devoid of any shred of compassion.
A wicked smirk curled upon the king's lips, his sadistic delight evident in his twisted amusement.
"Perhaps you would make a suitable replacement then," he taunted, his words laced with cruel intent. Without so much as a glance in the woman's direction, he signaled to his loyal Lycan, a silent command that spelled doom for the trembling figure before him.
"No!" Althea's voice pierced through the air, an anguished cry propelled by a surge of desperation. Her heart pounded in her chest, racing with a mix of terror and determination. She could not bear to witness such unspeakable cruelty unfold before her eyes. The lady was pregnant, the Lycan would kill her in one swipe.
The woman, with child, was defenseless, and Althea could not allow this atrocity to occur. In that moment, her own vulnerability became exposed, a beacon that drew the king's attention towards her.
The room seemed to freeze as the king and his fearsome Lycan turned, their gaze fixated upon Althea. The weight of their menacing stare bore down upon her, causing her breath to catch in her throat.
She had unwittingly revealed her position, exposing herself to the king's piercing scrutiny. In that instant, she realized that her cloak of invincibility had been torn away, and now she stood vulnerable and exposed before the heartless ruler and his relentless enforcer.
As the king drew nearer, his imposing presence seemed to cast a sinister shadow that engulfed the room. Althea couldn't help but feel a chill creep up her spine, her heart pounding in her chest with each measured step he took.
Yet, as her gaze delved deeper into his appearance, she discovered an unexpected allure amidst the aura of intimidation. Despite the scar that marred his face, his strong jawline and piercing gray eyes held a captivating charm. His fair complexion, untouched by the passage of time, highlighted his rugged features. Strands of dark hair cascaded over his forehead, adding a touch of disheveled charm to his commanding presence.
However, Althea's heart remained filled with trepidation, for beneath the surface of his striking countenance lay a darkness that sent shivers down her spine.
"Well, well, well. It appears we have a hero among us," the king's voice rang out, dripping with sarcasm and malicious amusement. His words were like venom, designed to taunt and unsettle those who dared stand before him.
Althea instinctively bowed her head, her hand trembling with fear as she tried to steady her nerves. "Your majesty," she replied, her voice laced with a mixture of reverence and unease.
Beads of sweat formed on her palm, evidence of the anxiety that gripped her, as she struggled to gulp down air, her throat constricted with fear.
The king's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a smirk that hinted at the sadistic pleasure he derived from making others uncomfortable. He reveled in these moments, savoring the control he held over those who dared challenge his authority.
"So, little hero, how did I not see you a while ago?" he asked, his voice dripping with condescension.
He relished the opportunity to exert his power, toying with his subjects like a predator toying with its prey.
"I... I do not know, your majesty," Althea stammered, her voice quivering with uncertainty. The weight of the king's gaze bore down upon her, intensifying her fear and leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed.
A wicked glint danced in the king's eyes as he relished the discomfort he instilled in Althea. "You screamed just now, didn't you, little hero?" he taunted, his voice laced with a twisted amusement. "Perhaps you secretly yearn to take her place?"
The question hung in the air, a choice that would shape Althea's destiny. In truth, she had no desire to endure the same fate as the pregnant woman. But in this moment, she found herself standing at a crossroad, grappling with the decision that could seal her own demise.
"I... Whatever pleases your majesty," Althea managed to utter, her words a desperate plea for leniency.
Inside her mind, a continuous prayer resonated, hoping against hope that the king would look elsewhere, sparing her from the cruel fate that awaited.
The king's gaze turned sinister, his eyes locking onto Althea with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. His decision loomed, poised to dictate the lives of two individuals, each hanging in the balance of his whims.
"I am feeling rather benevolent today," the king sneered, savoring the power he wielded over life and death. "Release the pregnant lady and her so-called husband. Instead, let our little hero here become the sixth bride."
Those few words became a damning sentence, both a lifeline and a death sentence intertwined. Althea's heart sank as the weight of the king's proclamation settled upon her shoulders, realizing that while one life was spared, another was sacrificed in its stead.
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