บททั้งหมดของ Fated to My Brother in-law, The Lycan King: บทที่ 281 - บทที่ 290

*** Kingdom of Kuragari****The throne room of the Dark Elf Kingdom was a cavernous expanse of obsidian stone, lit by torches that flickered with an unnatural, almost greenish glow. Shadows clung to the corners like living things, shifting and curling with every movement of the crowd. The air was thick, tense, scented faintly with incense and blood—an unmistakable reminder of the power and ruthlessness that ruled these halls.King Aranthir stood at the head of the room, his form tall, statuesque, and impossibly imposing. His dark eyes gleamed with an icy light, scanning the assembled subjects with a predator’s precision. The murmurs of the gathered nobles, warriors, and sorcerers ceased the instant his gaze swept over them.“Silence,” he commanded, voice low, and yet it carried throughout the chamber, resonating off the stone like a drumbeat of authority. Every Dark Elf froze in place, bodies tense, ears straining, knowing that to speak before the King’s bidding would be to risk death

*****The forest beyond the Dark Elf Kingdom’s northern borders was dense, thick with gnarled roots and shadows that twisted unnaturally under the moonlight. Rowan’s soldiers moved like whispers, silent but deadly, each step measured, each soldier attuned to the terrain, their senses heightened from days of preparation and strict discipline. Rowan himself moved at the front, eyes sharp, body coiled with the ease of a predator, aura radiating authority that kept his men in perfect alignment.He had anticipated this: the Dark Elf Kingdom would not allow such independence without response. And yet, he pressed forward, confident in his soldiers’ loyalty, confident in his own planning. Every step brought them closer to the Lycan borders, and every rustle in the trees could have been the first sign of interception.But Rowan had trained for this. He scanned the shadows, noting the faint glow of magical wards laid in the forest, listening to the subtle shifts of movement that told him they w

EDYRM The palace grounds were quiet in the late afternoon, the sun dipping low and shadows stretching like fingers across the stone paths. Edyrm moved alone, his steps deliberate, eyes scanning every corner as if the palace itself were a maze to conquer. He’d slipped away from the main corridors unnoticed, a predator moving among predators, ignoring the curious glances from Lycans who were unused to seeing a Dark Elf wander freely.He found himself at the training grounds, a wide, open space bordered by high stone walls and dotted with worn posts, practice weapons, and target dummies. Vulwin had trained here before, but Edyrm had never had the chance to practice properly in weeks. He picked up a practice dagger, the metal cool in his palm, and began moving—strikes, spins, feints, and precise jabs, each motion measured, elegant, and lethal.The Lycans nearby stopped briefly to watch, eyes narrowing at the audacity of a Dark Elf practicing on their grounds. Edyrm didn’t care. His focus

****The council room was tense, thick with the scent of sweat, fur, and anticipation. Outside, the first fires of Rowan’s army were already visible along the outskirts of the pack’s territory, smoke curling in the distance like an ominous promise. Inside, the room was alive with planning, the air buzzing with controlled energy as each of us positioned ourselves around the large stone table.Elias, regal and composed even in the chaos, sat at the head, his amber eyes scanning every face with that piercing intensity only a Lycan King could wield. His aura radiated authority, but underneath it was calculation—the kind that made even the fiercest warriors hesitate before speaking.“We can’t waste time,” he began, voice low but commanding, cutting through the murmur of strategy. “Rowan’s soldiers have moved first. The villages along the outer borders are under attack. Reports indicate coordinated raids—precise, almost surgical. They’re testing our defenses, probing our limits.”Luke leane

****The dawn broke with a pale, sickly light, casting long shadows over the outskirts of the pack territory. The valley was eerily silent, the remnants of Rowan’s previous scouts scattered like ominous warnings across the terrain. I led the pack forward, heart pounding, muscles coiled, eyes scanning every ridge and tree line for movement. Every sense screamed danger, every instinct sharpened by the previous day’s failure.Elias had given the orders clearly the night before: precision, coordination, and no mistakes. But the two Dark Elfs—Edyrm and Vulwin—still walked beside me with that infuriating confidence, the kind that made my blood boil. I could feel the simmering tension already, long before the first clash.“Luke,” Vulwin said casually, as if the quiet valley was a training ground rather than a battlefield. “You look tense. Loosen up. This is going to be fun.”I turned my amber eyes on him, jaw tight. “Fun? You call nearly losing half our scouts ‘fun’? Don’t even start, Vulwin