Chapter 133 - The Hunger in the Bones
Chapter 133 - The Hunger in the Bones
Cairos Klyne POV
I woke in a cave that did not belong to this world.
Shadows crawled along the walls like living things and every breath felt like swallowing broken glass. I couldn’t remember collapsing here. Couldn’t remember the path I took after I fled like a coward when Sahiyra rose and Greyson stood crowned beside her.
I only remembered rage. And shame.
I pushed myself upright, and something inside me shifted, like bones rearranging under rotten magic. I growled low in my throat, not from pain, but from the memory of what I should have been.
Greyson stood at her side. Greyson held her first. Greyson had a daughter in his arms now. A future. A legacy.
While I... his own blood ..... was forgotten.
"My birthright," I murmured. My voice sounded wrong. Unnatural. Like something that scraped the walls when I spoke. "He took what should have been mine."
And the worst part? He didn’t even know it.
I stumbled to the pool of black water at the back of the cave. My reflection rippled, a face that was familiar but tainted. My lion form flickered beneath my skin but the eyes staring back at me weren’t mine.
They were hollow. Sharp. Starved.
When Aryihas died, something of her survived, and it found me. It fed on my hate. My envy. My hunger.
"Why him?" I whispered. "Why not me? I am older. I am stronger. I was meant to lead."
A voice whispered back, but it wasn’t mine.
"Take it."
I felt the rot unfurl inside me like blooming ink. It wrapped around my heart, warm and wicked. It told me things I had always wanted to hear. That I deserved her. The power. The crown. The children. The world.
And I listened. I let it change me.
My bones cracked. My skin shimmered. The cave filled with the scent of death and rebirth. Fur shed and regrew, lighter and brighter. My mane softened into golden waves no one in Moonveil had ever seen.
I looked into the water again. I did not look like Cairos anymore.
I looked harmless. Approachable. A lion who could be welcomed into any court. I smiled, a new smile, charming and empty.
"I need a name," I told the darkness. "A clean one. Something they won’t question."
It came like a pulse in my skull.
Corvan.
I repeated it slowly, savoring the shape of it.
"I am Corvan now. Brother to no one. Traitor to nothing. Just a humble lion seeking a pride."
But inside? Cairos lived like a snarling animal.
I walked out of the cave and watched it collapse behind me. The earth swallowed it whole, like the world itself wanted to hide what had been reborn in its belly.
The castle gleamed in the distance. Moonveil glittered with gold banners and laughter. I tasted the wind, sweet with life. With new pups. With hope.
Hope made me sick.
"I will take what he cherishes. Not his throne... his future."
The thought made me tremble with a joy I knew was evil, and I didn’t care. If I could not be king, then I would be the death of kings.
I shifted my new mask into place, straightened my spine, and walked toward Moonveil Castle.
Not openly. Not with claws. But with a smile.
A friendly stranger eager to serve.
And once they trust me, once I am close, once I touch the heirs…
No one will save them.
Not even Sahiyra.
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Corvan POV
The road into Moonveil tasted too sweet.
Vendors laughed in the morning sun. Children chased each other between market stalls. The world moved like Sahiyra had breathed new life into it and every leaf and stone sang her name. It made my teeth hurt. I walked through the city slowly so I could watch them. Every smile. Every unscarred throat.
They had no idea a monster walked among them.
I stopped at a fruit stall. The vendor was doe eyed, and soft. She offered me apples with a warm grin and I paid more than they cost just to watch her cheeks redden. Power comes easily when people want to trust you. I ate one as I walked, the juices running cold down my chin, and the sweetness cloying against my tongue.
By midday I found an inn that smelled of rosemary and baked bread. Lanternlight warmed the walls and laughter spilled through the open windows. I stepped inside, and the first thing I saw was her. The innkeeper. A woman with rich brown skin, hair braided back from a striking face, with green eyes that were bright like spring leaves after rain. Her smile was soft but curious as she looked me over.
"New in Moonveil?" she asked.
I let my shoulders relax, and let the shape of Corvan settle into place. "Just a traveler seeking a bed for a few nights. I heard this is the friendliest corner of the realm."
She laughed. Music. Too bright. Too trusting. "You heard right. I am Mira. My inn is safe and clean. No beasts fight inside these walls."
"If they did, I would calm them," I replied. I reached into my coin purse with deliberate ease, and made sure she saw how comfortably it sat there. "A room. Top floor if you have one."
Her eyes flickered with approval as she handed me the key. "You have the look of someone strong. The Queen is seeking guardians for her young ones. Royals need men like you."
My fingers tightened around the key. Guardians.
For the children.
Fate itself bent to my will.
I smiled slowly. "Is that so? Where might a man inquire about such a position?"
"The palace posts are open. The Queen wishes her heirs to be guarded night and day." Mira leaned closer, her voice softening. "If you applied, I doubt they would turn you away."
Perfect.
I let the thought sit deep in my chest like coals waiting to burn.
Night fell thick and warm. I stayed downstairs and drank. Ale. Wine. Anything to drown the hum of envy in my blood. Mira joined me across the table, laughing when I teased her, her blush rising when I brushed her fingers. She told me about the Queen, the children, the festivals, and the abundance. How life was improving. How even barren women conceived now. How magic flowed like river water.
Every word fed the hate in me like meat on a blade.
"Moonveil is blessed," she said, lifting her drink.
I leaned closer. "Blessed kingdoms fall the hardest."
She shivered, not with fear, but with want. A dangerous thing. Her eyes dropped to my mouth and I knew I had her. I took her hand, lifted it to my lips, and kissed the tips of her fingers. "Shall we continue this upstairs?"
Her breath hitched. She nodded.
I led her to my room. Her laughter echoed light and breathless as she stumbled against me, and her lips were hot against my throat. I unlocked the door without looking, and pushed her gently through it. The scent of her skin was warm and trusting.
She did not see the hunger in my gaze. She did not feel the rot beneath Corvan’s charm.
She only felt wanted.
I kissed her, slowly at first, then deeper. She melted against me, her fingers tangled in my hair, and her eyes half closed as she whispered my name.
Corvan.
Not Cairos.
Not the traitor.
No grief. No guilt. Only desire.
She did not know she was dancing with the thing her queen would one day fear most.
I carried her to the bed, my breath warm against her ear, and the door shut behind us. The night swallowed her laughter whole.
And I smiled into the darkness.
Because tomorrow, I would walk into the palace not as a stranger.
But as a savior.
And no one would see my claws until they were already at the Queen’s throat.
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The door shut with a soft, final click, and the mask of Corvan slipped just enough for the beast beneath to breathe.
I didn’t waste time on tenderness. I slammed her back against the oak, and my palm curled around the warm column of her throat, feeling her pulse leap like a trapped bird.
My other hand ripped at the laces of her bodice, impatiently, and the fabric tore with a satisfying sound, spilling her breasts into the lantern’s hungry glow. Full, dark-tipped, and rising fast with every frantic breath.
Mira gasped, but I swallowed the sound with my mouth. She tasted of rosemary and sweet wine and stupid, reckless trust. Her nails clawed into my shoulders, dragging through linen, and I growled against her tongue.
I hoisted her higher, pinning her to the door with my hips. Her legs locked around my waist instantly, and her thighs were hot and trembling against me. Her skirts bunched in frantic fistfuls, and I shoved them up, baring her smooth skin to my palms. She was already wet (I could smell it, sharp and needy), and the knowledge made the rot inside me snarl with triumph.
“Corvan...” she started, her voice cracking.
I bit her lower lip hard enough to sting, then dragged my mouth down the slope of her neck, my teeth scraping and marking. My fingers shoved between her thighs, ripping the last scrap of smallclothes aside. She was slick and swollen, clenching around nothing, and when I thrust two fingers deep inside her, she cried out, it was raw and perfect.
I didn’t wait. Couldn’t. The hunger in my bones was a living thing, gnashing and starved. I freed myself with one rough yank, my cock heavy and aching, and drove into her in a single brutal stroke. The door rattled in its frame. Mira’s head fell back against the wood with a thud, and a choked scream tore from her throat as I filled her completely.
There was no gentleness left in me.
I fucked her hard, fast, and punishing, each thrust slamming her spine against the oak. Her legs tightened around me, and her heels dug into my back, urging me deeper even as her breath hitched on every impact. I gripped her throat tighter, and watched her green eyes glaze with shock and raw, filthy pleasure.
She was warm. Alive. Mine to ruin for one night.
I snarled against her ear, my voice ragged, and barely human. “Say it again.”
“Corvan...” she sobbed, the name fracturing as I angled my hips and hit that spot inside her that made her whole body seize.
The wet slap of flesh on flesh filled the room, obscene and perfect. Her nails raked down my back, tearing linen, scoring skin, and the sting fed the rot, made me drive into her like I could brand myself into her bones.
I felt her start to unravel and I crushed my mouth to hers to drink the cry she couldn’t hold back. She came hard, shaking, her inner walls milking me with desperate greed. I followed a breath later, burying myself to the hilt and spilling deep inside her with a guttural snarl that tasted like victory and damnation.
For one suspended heartbeat, I stayed there buried in her heat, with her pulse thundering under my palm, and her body limp and trembling against mine.
Then I let her slide down the door until her feet touched the floor. Her knees buckled; I caught her by the waist, steadying her just long enough to press one last possessive kiss to her swollen mouth.
She never saw the monster smile.
Tomorrow, Mira would wake up sore and smiling, thinking she’d spent the night with a charming stranger.
I licked the salt from her neck one final time, tasting her surrender.
Sleep well, little doe.
The wolf has only just begun to hunt.