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The Lycan's Hunt Novel Cover

The Lycan's Hunt

"Fuck!" "Don't hold back, Annatoria." He kissed my back. "Cum for me. Lose this bet for me." ~~~ "I have to break you, little human spy. I will humiliate this rubbish pride in your eyes." ~~~ Agent Annatoria has a new mission: to locate the immortal Lycan King of the Wolves, who has tortured humans for years. She finds the Lycan... but loses a piece of herself. When she dramatically returns to the human realm, branded by a strange mark, the shadows of the werewolf world cling to her memory, leaving gaps often shrouded in terrifying nightmares. But the gaps in her memory could be the threads the wicked Lycan King uses to weave his grand and terrifying intention, making her a puppet in a game she doesn't even remember playing. Because, when she crosses paths with Darius Thorne of Thorne Innovations, her entire body and soul feel an undeniable, primal pull towards the man whose possessive gaze and terrifying familiarity she can't resist. Soon, the chilling truth dawns: the hunt never stopped. She has, inescapably, become the hunted. (Warning!: Don't read if you lack patience!)
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Chapter 2

ANNATORIA

When the guards entered the castle, my eyes were still closed. But the chill in the room caught my attention. It was severe. It threatened to slice my bones.

Despite this, my eyes remained closed.

When I face this Lycan dude, I want to put all my guts into it. If possible, I would love a chance to tame him with the experimental chemical tucked between my breasts.

After the wolves walked for a while, a door was flung open, the hinges creaking with the need for lubrication.

"Great Lycan, we've brought the spy," one of the beasts announced once the echoes of the creaking door died down. "She is a stubborn one."

They tossed me like a rag, and I shivered. The increased cold felt like a whisper of danger that would destroy my soul until nothing was left.

I sighed hard. Things were not going as I imagined.

After some deep breaths, I sat up, opened my eyes and almost yelped because I thought I had gone blind. The stark darkness around me was intense, if I had not seen a faint light at the far end of the room, I would have gone mad.

But what is this place? And why is it peeling my confidence, like an onion losing its layers?!

"Spy," a masculine whisper filled the air. I swallowed hard, and my eyes wandered as I tried figuring out where that voice came from. "Human." My head whipped to the left. "Foolish human spy."

I turned again. I think I heard the voice from behind. But the darkness was still refusing to let me see through it.

This is shitty.

Or should I try speaking to the voice? I could-

An unusual scent instantly settled in front of me. Along with that scent was a heavy presence. One that made the cold in the room feel like a joke and caused my breath to almost cease.

Then, he revealed himself. And I just knew... he was the Lycan King of the werewolves- the beast rumoured to be immortal, to have lived for centuries, cheating death, which never bothered to find him.

I gulped again and tried to calm the race in my chest.

Even though the darkness in the room was still intact, with an illumination that could not be ignored, his features became prominent.

His skin was pale, almost similar to the whiteness of my favourite ceramic piece. And his eyes, as they judged me in silence, reminded me of the sky. But beyond that colour was icy death, torment, evil, something similar to eternal tiredness.

I swallowed my fear again and turned away. Then I helplessly succumbed to the pull that tempted me to look at him.

When my timid gaze landed on him, I expected him to say something, to tell me to stop looking at him.

But he didn't. And the brooding silence made it harder for me to escape the maze of his cold eyes. I fell deep, like I was drowning in the sea.

I fought within myself to look away. But I couldn't.

I could only shift my gaze to note the roughness of his full hair, the firmness of his almost bloodless lips and the careful carving of his enviable cheekbones.

He would easily make every model in our country lose their job.

But still.... This natural evil he possesses. It cannot be manufactured elsewhere.

"Human."

"Argh!" My chest jumped as that word shattered me out of my trance. I squeezed my chest and waited for the next word.

"You must be hungry," his timbre voice spoke with calculated suspense. He leaned closer, and his breath teased my face. "Hungry for death."

Oh yes. Yum. Yum.

My throat was dry, and I could not push out that saucy response. Before this beast, my strength means nothing.

So much for my bravado.

The Lycan inched his face even closer. "Do you deny being a spy?"

After moistening the dryness in my mouth, I found little sturdiness in my soul and said, "I don't."

He blinked, and his long hair fell to the side. "This will not go unpunished."

"S–so?"

"I have to break you, little human spy." He reached for my chin, and the thickness of his gloves pressed into it. "I will humiliate this rubbish pride in your eyes."

I didn't realise that despite the fear in my body, my gaze remained resilient. Well, not anymore.

As my eyelids fluttered in a way I was unfamiliar with. I hid my eyes.

And his dead eyes widened in satisfaction. "That is more like it." The strength I was building crumbled. "I am your master. You do not dare to act mighty in my presence." His grip pushed my head up. I could only look at his lips. "Humans are the best pets. Your kind had the fear I love to feast on." He inhaled. "You belong to me now, human. Your body and soul are all mine."

Wickedly, he dropped my chin, and my breath shook so much that I fell to the floor and lay there, my eyes staring like my brain had been washed away.

"Beta Elias," the Lycan said while straightening his overpowering physique. "My bed has lacked warmth for a while." The excitement in his voice didn't sound like one. "It is time for me to feast again. I have a new toy to breed."

He exhaled, and that descended into a deep chuckle that increased my tremor so much that I could not cajole my soul to do something to survive.

I remained in that spot, quivering and wallowing in the darkness to cover up my shameful weakness.

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