The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation romance Capítulo 102

VALERIA

"Then come, step closer to this table," he led me to a massive oval-shaped marble table with a gigantic map spread across it.

Some areas were drawn out, while others appeared opaque and concealed.

"Bring me the box!" he ordered, and they brought him a small wooden box.

It looked familiar, and when he opened it and showed me the contents, I recognized the stone I had once touched—pretending it was harmless—only to have it burn my hand.

"This stone is made from the Mother Altar, the very first one, located at the Lunar Gate. It’s a relic of your race. Take it with one hand and extend the other to me," he commanded arrogantly, leaving me no choice but to obey.

My trembling fingers reached for the dark rock that seemed to glow as if it had minerals inside.

I remembered all too well the pain it had caused me last time, but now I only felt its call—like an invisible thread pulling me toward something sacred and incredible.

The cold touch finally met my hand as I lifted it from the velvet-lined box.

This time, it didn’t burn me as it did before, and a deep longing swelled in my heart.

"Stretch out your other hand," he ordered, and I did—only to hiss in pain when he mercilessly sliced a deep wound into my palm with a dagger.

"Pour your blood over the stone and summon your power to call the silver relics from all the altars. I have several here, but others were left scattered."

I observed some of those artifacts I recognized—two of them remained secured in Aldric's castle.

Could they be summoned here?

My blood dripped onto the stone from my wound. I didn’t know how to do it, but I closed my eyes and followed my instincts.

The stone began to heat up, glowing red, and I could even feel steam escaping through its cracks—yet it didn’t burn me.

I felt the urge to press it against that idiot King’s face and roast him once and for all.

I pushed aside my hatred, focusing on the shape of the relics. Slowly, images of each one appeared in my mind, even some I had never actually seen before.

Words whispered in my head in an ancient language, and my lips moved, reciting them. I felt the magic stirring, swirling around me, making my dress and hair billow.

Over and over, I chanted, the relics glowing brighter in the darkness of my memories until a sudden dizziness overwhelmed me. I felt my strength and energy draining away.

My legs buckled, and I was about to collapse to the ground, but the King caught me, holding me up.

"Let me go," I pulled away despite my weakness, disgusted by his touch.

"Tsk, tsk. So weak. You barely summoned a bit of magic, and look at you—on the verge of fainting. You’re nothing compared to Gabrielle," he clicked his tongue in irritation.

His cynicism made me grind my teeth in hatred. Who was really to blame for my lack of development?

"Well, at least you accomplished the goal," he said, looking at the table. I followed his gaze, somewhat astonished.