I Bought the exiled king (by Natalie Winter) novel Chapter 113

Chapter 113

Chapter 113

HE

Valencia

The werewolf’s paws brushed against Killian’s shoulder, barely missing his neck. I would have sighed in relief but the next second I saw red appearing on

his white shirt.

He was injured.

But Killian didn’t even notice it. I stared at the deep gashes on his shoulder that the werewolf had given him, huge chunks of flesh missing through his skin and red pouring down his shirt, soaking it crimson.

I tried to step forward, to do what, I didn’t know.

But I didn’t want him to take on that werewolf alone.

“No!! Stay right there!” Killian screamed when he saw me raise my leg forward to take a step towards him.

Shit. I was distracting him.

”

But then I had not seen him take on a werewolf with his bare hands.

His arm snapped up, catching the beast’s swipe midair, claws raking across the wolf’s front legs. He gripped the ankle of one of the front legs and yanked

it, hard.

The werewolf had taken a leap to attack him but was cut short as it slammed into the ground. Blood sprayed, alongwith dirt and pebbles but Killian

didn’t flinch.

The wolf let out a pained howl but the next second it was up.

With a savage twist, Killian used the wolf’s momentum against it, slamming it onto its back so hard the ground cracked. The sound reverberated through my chest.

Gasps rose from the onlookers. Quite a lot of soldiers and a few royals had arrived as well. The chaos had woken up everybody from their sleep.

I scanned the crowd but there was no sign of Martin. I did catch Fabian peeking through the gaps, safely tucked behind the royals but when his gaze met mine, he frantically scrambled back.

I also spotted Sir Nicholas smoking a pipe, watching the fight as if it was some nightly entertainment.

But no one dared interfere.

Meanwhile, the werewolf pawed the ground and snapped its large maw.

Killian and the werewolf were circling each other, like they were dancing a game of death.

“Change back to your human form now! We dont have to do this!”

Killian said and the werewolf’s ears twitched. For a second, I thought he was listening to Killian. But then that look was gone and it was back to growling murderously again.

The werewolf scrambled up, snapping its jaws. Killian’s lips peeled back in a snail that wasn’t entirely human. For a heartbeat, his eyes glowed–silver, cold, ancient.

The glimpse stole my breath.

The beast lunged again, and Killian met it head–on.

ti

His fists drove into its ribs, his knee into its gut. It yelped, enraged, but he was relentless.

The blood had now soaked most of his shirt and was trickling down his pants, soaking into the ground. Yet, he still didn’t acknowledge it.

“Killian!” I cried, useless, my voice cracking as fear and adrenaline tangled inside me.

The wolf’s paw slashed again, grazing his side this time. His teeth clenched, but instead of staggering, he drove his elbow into the creature’s throat. The wolf gagged, staggering back.

The courtyard seemed to hold its breath,

Killian stood tall, chest heaving, blood streaking down his arm. For a flicker, I thought I saw more than a man before me.

Why was he not turning into his lycan form?

Killian was strong no doubt but as a human. He could turn into his lycan and toss this wolf away like a ragdoll in seconds.

So why wasn’t he?

M

Killian snarled again, his broad shoulders shadowed by something monstrous, power radiating like a storm about to break.

And then he moved again.

He seized the beast by its scruff, muscles bulging, and slammed it into the ground with such force I felt the vibration through my feet. The wolf let out a low whimper that would have sounded pitiful if not for the red I could see dribbling down Killian’s arm.

Killian crouched low, pressing his knee into its chest to keep it pinned.

“Yield,” he snarled at the creature. His voice was not human–it rumbled like thunder, something older, something primal.

He wanted the werewolf to yield? He was not trying to kill him?

I wondered what Killian was doing and then from behind them I heard amara’s shrill cry.

“No, please don’t” she had come running upstairs on the ground and was panting hard. But I could also see her face streaked with tears.

She was crying.

She pleaded and fell down on the ground, clasping her hands together.

There was raw pain and anguish on her face.

The werewolf turned to look at the senior priestess who was sitting defeatedly on the ground. She was holding a syringe in her hand and staring at the werewolf with a mix of pity and…recognition?

The wolf stilled, eyes wide, ears flat against its skull. For a long, breathless moment, it seemed to actually hesitate… as though some instinct recognized

her,

But then it shook its head and looked at Killian again.

And Killian smiled.

He fucking smiled when Sir Nicholas shrieked but then politely excused himself to return back to the castle and Fabian most definitely had shit his pants.

Kililan raised his hand and beckoned at the werewolf, curling them up and taunting the beast.

It raised its head and let out a ear splitting howl that made the glasspanes and windows of the castle rattle.

But Killian locked his feet and stood facing the werewolf.

As if he was an apex predator and the werewolf was prey.

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