Fated To The Cursed Lycan King

Nine

Justin

I leaned against my seat and took a drag of the cigarette between my fingers, inhaling deeply. The acrid taste of wolfsbane filled my lungs like numbing poison.

The aftermath of the meeting still clung to my brain. My dad couldn't even bring himself to pretend—it was clear he didn't like me, all thanks to that bastard Sean's attempts to undermine me.

The cigarette smoke curled around my face as I exhaled slowly, trying to quiet my thoughts.

Despite how hard I worked to prove to my father that I wasn't a failure, it wasn’t working. My cousin wanted my throne.

That smug fool.

Meetings and public events always ended like this. He found a way to undermine me and act like he was the more competent one, like I was some trophy prince keeping the throne warm until someone more suitable—meaning him, of course—could take over.

The f*****g nerve.

I could still hear his mocking voice from today's meeting, casually implying I was overburdened, that maybe it was too much for me to handle alone, like I was some egg who needed to be handled with care.

If he wasn’t talking about me being pale, or needing to take a break and let someone else handle things, he would say my stamina was shot and I should focus on my health.

Always phrased so f*****g politely, like he was concerned and wasn’t twisting the knife, waiting for me to bleed out in front of everyone.

My dad let it slide. Every time. He sat there with that indifferent look, never shutting Sean down or defending his own son.

If it weren’t for my mom, I might as well have been an orphan at this point.

She was the only one who put her foot down, the only reason Sean hadn't run his mouth unchecked for years.

But she wasn’t in that meeting today, and I didn’t want to be branded as a Mama's boy. Whenever she wasn’t with me, my cousin would take the opportunity to plant his seeds of doubt.

I figured Sean hadn’t been told the full extent of the curse, but he saw the cracks and knew how to press against them, testing for weak spots. He wasn’t aware that the only solution was me finding my fated mate.

I promised myself that one day I would prove him wrong, and when that day came, he wouldn’t just be wrong—he’d be ruined.

My eyes went to the document on my screen and the annotated printout Marissa had left on my desk. My fingers tapped idly against the keyboard as I skimmed through her corrections.

She had spotted inconsistencies and sharpened every oversight and loophole with legal reasoning. My gaze trailed over her notes in the margins where she had pressed her highlighter a little too hard, like she was holding back irritation.

A smirk tugged at my lips. She’d probably wanted to throw the entire document in my face.

I knew she was smart. A woman who wasn’t just doing her job but outclassing the very people drafting these agreements.

And yet, here she was, running my errands, booking my meetings, fetching coffee like a glorified office lackey. It was a demotion, but I couldn’t say I wasn’t enjoying it.

The other party had made a mistake and left too much open to interpretation, but I did not acknowledge that in front of her.

An amused smile curled up at my lips as I leaned back, exhaling through my nose.

Clever girl.

My sister, Justine, rushed in like a demon was chasing her, and I barely looked up from my laptop.

"Why do I feel like you’re about to say something dramatic?"

She ignored me and bounced on her feet. "Who is that drop-dead gorgeous, beautiful queen seated outside your office?"

"How would I know?" I leaned back, bored.

"Your assistant, damn it!" She flailed her hands. "Marissa. Something just happened between us. Something insane. I don’t even know how to explain it."

"Then don’t," I murmured, mocking her enthusiasm. She glared at me and began pacing around the room.

"Okay, hear me out. I was walking, minding my damn business, coming to your office, and then bam—I felt something deep inside me, like my wolf recognized something in her. Like a bond, but a different type."

At the mention of a bond, I suddenly stiffened, sitting up alert. "Wait. Are you saying she’s your mate?"

"I don’t know," she huffed. "That’s the freaking problem. It’s beyond anything I’ve felt before. And trust me, I’ve been with a lot of women."

"Thanks for that unnecessary detail," I said dryly.

Her gaze grew dreamy, and I could tell she was serious.

"This is different, Justin. I swear, I feel connected to her. Like I need her. If she lets me, I’ll worship her."

"She’s a werewolf and beneath us. What will Mom say about this?"

She snapped her head sideways, frowning. "What about Mom?"

"Mom thinks being with women is a phase for you. She wants you to marry a man, so that if things get screwed up for me, your husband could take over the throne."

"Oh, please. Screw that sexism," she snapped, throwing up her middle finger. "You’re going to be fine, and you and Wendy will have an heir. This is about me. I couldn’t even control it—I was walking past her, and then boom, my wolf short-circuited."

I took another drag of my cigarette, pretending to be bored.

"Mom will have to suck it up. Either she accepts me for who I am, or she doesn’t. And if she doesn’t, then fine. Because I have Dad’s support. Or better still, I could leave and take Marissa with me. We’ll start a whole new life together. She’s perfect."

I scoffed and leaned forward. "Sounds solid, except you’re missing one tiny detail—does she want you?"

Her face fell like she was about to cry, and she rushed towards me, clutching my arm dramatically. "That’s why I have you—to help me!"

"Help you do what?" I deadpanned.

"Help me get her, obviously." She grinned, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

I shook my head. "You’ve officially lost it."

I wanted to say I was happy for her, but it was almost pathetic that everyone around me had all found their destined mates, their so-called other halves, their perfect matches chosen by fate. And yet here I was—the one who needed it the most—completely alone. No bond, no pull, no salvation. Just silence where there should have been someone.