In the depths of the forest, a cave served as the throne room of the cursed king. Bones littered everywhere on the ground. Some were old and moldy, while some were fresh.
The bones belonged to centaurs. Those few that were too weak to be converted into werewolves or too wild to be controlled. Their remains were a constant reminder of the curse that haunted both the centaurs and their former king, Lycaon.
"Fire... add more wood to the fire!" Lycaon roared. "This isn't tender yet!"
The servants around quickly rushed to obey the man sitting on a poorly built throne. It was Lycaon, the king of the centaurs. But now, he was nothing more than a monstrous creature.
All the signs of nobility were long gone from him. What remained was an insatiable hunger that drove him to madness.
His body was enormous, covered in thick, matted white fur. He couldn't take his eyes off the horse's leg, eating it up.
