The King (The Lycans #8) Read Online Jenika Snow

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Insta-Love, Paranormal, Vampires, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The Lycans Series by Jenika Snow
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Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
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“Let’s head out,” I said and finished packing things up before climbing on my steed. I clicked my tongue to get things moving, and we made our way forward, Cian and Odhran following.

I didn’t know what I was heading into, but it was definitely something monumental.

Chapter Three

Luna

I looked up and held the book I’d been reading to my chest, a content sigh leaving me. The story of a woman finding her Prince Charming was a tale older than time, and one that would never get old.

I felt the silly grin on my face as I’d just ended the scene where the prince came racing in on his steed to save the damsel in distress, sealing their magical moment with a deep, thorough kiss.

Gods, it was so romantic, something a girl like me, so inexperienced with everything, would find wholly beautiful and wistful.

It was those thoughts moving through my mind that were broken up to the sound of horse hooves beating a steady rhythm. The sun hadn’t yet risen, but I felt the prickling on the back of my neck that said it was coming soon and fast.

I set the book aside and shifted on the bed so I could lean forward and pull aside the cloth that concealed the window. Outside was still cloaked in night, the muddy road deserted of anyone.

But then the sound of stomping of hooves became closer, clearer. I shifted on the bed and blew out the candle that sat on the little scarred table beside me. I took my place back at the window, feeling this weird sensation course through me.

For some reason, my heart started racing, my fingers shaking a little. I didn’t know why I felt this weird… anticipation moving through me.

I kept concealed behind the fabric of the curtain, the room doused in darkness, the subtle scent of smoke from blowing out the candle making that the only thing I could smell.

I watched as three steeds slowly made their way through the center of the village, dirt and muck being kicked up by their heavy hooves. And although I could see all three males clearly despite the lack of light, and thanks to my heightened senses, my focus was wholly transfixed on the powerful male that led the trio.

His horse was a massive stallion with a glossy black coat, the moon shining down and making it appear almost indigo and color.

I could tell right away these weren’t humans. All of them, especially the clear leader of the group, had a very ethereal aura around them. But because I wasn’t close enough to him, and because of the smoke from the candle, I couldn’t smell what kind of Otherworld species they were.

My gaze stayed on the male at the head, his body massive, his shoulders broad and thickly muscled. His clothing was travel worn and didn’t hide the sheer power beneath the material, the definition of his chest evident and making my belly tighten.

His thighs were thick as tree trunks, dark leather trews covering the powerful limbs. I could make out a sash tied around his waist, the material plaid with a crest at the end of it. Scottish, perhaps?

I let my gaze wander back up to his face, his features severe under the moonlight. His jaw was a hard cut square, dark scruff covering his cheeks, his lips full, his nose perfectly proportioned to his face. He was brutally savage in a beautiful way, like a warlord coming in to cause havoc and chaos.

His dark hair was messy across his forehead, a little overgrown, another clear indication he’d been traveling for some time. And the longer I stared at him, the more I realized this male seemed to be plucked out of a different time. He had an Old World feel emanating from him.

I felt a strange tightening in my belly, this warm heat moving through my body at such a fast rate I grew dizzy even though I was sitting down. My fingers curled around the fabric, and I felt my breathing start to increase as I watched him steer his steed through the village.

The other two males with him could’ve been invisible for all I cared.

My heart was still racing and increasing with each passing second. So big. So masculine. I felt wetness spill from between my thighs and clenched my legs together, the sensations moving through me ones I’d never experienced before.

It was frightening as much as it was exhilarating.

He was passing by my window when I saw his body visibly tense. His nostrils flared, his spine snapping straight as he lifted his head and started scanning his surroundings. He pulled his horse to a stop just feet past my window, and I held my breath. I could hear my heart beating in my ears, pounding in my throat.

And just as I saw him start to turn his head in my direction, I let the material fall back over the window and pressed myself against the wall, my hand over my heart.


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