The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation novel Chapter 253

NARRATOR

Sigrid pulled away from her possessive torment—they would talk later—but the waves of malice radiating from Morgana were impossible to ignore.

"Silas, let’s not forget we have an audience. How embarrassing," she said, turning toward Morgana with a crooked smile.

Morgana trembled for a moment, the memory of this woman’s agonizing attacks still fresh in her mind. Hope was slipping further and further away.

"Alright, let’s end this."

"Wait! Wait! I can offer you something in return! Just let me live! I’ll leave with my children, I swear by the Goddess! The entire estate will be yours! You’ll never see me again!" she suddenly screamed, dignity already discarded at her feet.

"Are you talking about The Book of Risorgimento?" Sigrid asked mockingly, watching Morgana’s face contort.

Did she really think she had kept it a secret?

"I can give it to you…"

"My lady doesn’t need anything from you. Whatever is in this mansion already belongs to her. May I kill her now?" Silas turned to Sigrid, his patience running thin.

"Alright, this time I won’t say no." Sigrid nodded, and for a moment, she almost imagined a wagging tail behind the massive white-haired warrior.

Her adorable Silas.

While she was lost in such trivial thoughts, Morgana was screaming like a pig in a slaughterhouse as several specters began to close in around her.

The eerie sounds of macabre laughter and strange shrieks made her shudder. Those eyes… those hollow sockets were worse than those of her spiders!

"NO! NO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO! ELECTRA, SAVE ME! SAVE YOUR SISTER!" she screamed, spewing incoherent curses.

She tried to summon what little magic remained within her, but the creatures were already absorbing it mercilessly, creeping under her nails, corrupting her pores, infecting the very blood in her veins.

They grabbed her by the ankles and wrists, stretching her in the air, their dark tongues slithering across her skin.

"Break her. Slowly." Silas stepped in front of Sigrid and commanded in a vibrating voice.

Sigrid watched him amid the vortex of specters… like a king… The King of Specters.

Just as her heart had begun to suspect.

This was madness. The Moon Goddess was insane.

"AAAHAAHHHH!" Morgana’s screams echoed through the chaos.

Her limbs were wrenched from the trunk of her body, joints tearing apart as they were pulled past their limits, bones snapping, skin stretching like tattered cloth.

Blood splattered across the carpet and walls.

Soon, her arms and legs were devoured by the specters, severed from the center of her writhing form, her agonized shrieks filling the hall.

She plummeted to the ground from above, writhing in a pool of blood, reduced to little more than a torso and a head.

If she had been merely an elemental, the excruciating pain alone would have already killed her.

Sigrid stepped closer, not feeling even a sliver of pity for this sadistic bitch.

"My lady, don’t soil your feet with her filth," Silas murmured, watching as the thick blood trickled toward Sigrid’s boots.

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