Seducing the wrong lycan twin

The wrong twin

The scent of spilled champagne, heavy mahogany, and raw, suffocating alpha power filled the grand ballroom of the Eclipse Court. It was the night of the Royal Solstice Masquerade, a rare evening where the rigid, brutal hierarchy of the Lycan world temporarily blurred beneath heavy velvet cloaks and jewel encrusted silk masks. For the high ranking members of the royal court, it was an evening of unchecked luxury, indulgence, and political posturing. For me, it was something entirely different. It was a desperate, terrifying gamble to save my dying brother’s life, a final throw of the dice in a game where the rules were heavily rigged against me.

​I reached up with a trembling hand, adjusting the intricate silver filigree mask over my face to ensure it wouldn't slip. I forced myself to take a slow, deep breath, trying to calm the frantic hammering in my chest that threatened to give me away. Unlike every single apex predator browsing the room around me, I didn't possess a wolf. In a world where your beast defined your worth, I was completely wolfless an underdog, human-passing and utterly vulnerable. If any of the ruthless guards or elite alphas patrolling the perimeter realized a wolfless rogue had managed to slip past their heavy security grid, I wouldn't make it out of the palace gates alive. They would tear me apart just for the sport of it, leaving my bones to bleach in the courtyard.

​Just find the heir, I reminded myself, my fingers tightening protectively around the small velvet pouch hidden inside the deep folds of my dark silk gown. Find Kaelen. Get the antidote, and get out.

​Kaelen, the arrogant crown prince and heir to the throne, held the only known cure to the silver-rot poison currently eating away at my brother’s life. He was a ruthless, calculating monster, but he was also vain, predictable, and fond of absolute privacy when he indulged in his vices. Rumor among the palace staff whispered that he spent his evenings tucked away in the exclusive VIP obsidian suites on the third floor, far away from the prying eyes and suffocating chatter of the lesser packs below. He liked to look down on his subjects, both literally and figuratively.

​Stepping back into the deep shadows of a massive marble pillar, I watched the swirling crowd with a hawk's intensity. I waited until a large group of high society omegas moved toward the grand staircase, their laughter echoing off the high, vaulted ceilings. Blending seamlessly behind them, I used their presence as a shield to bypass the heavy iron-reinforced doors leading to the private wings. My heart leaped straight into my throat as I finally broke away from the group, stepping onto the dimly lit, plush carpets of the third floor.

​The air up here was completely different from the ballroom. It was thick, heavy with an oppressive, dominant aura that felt like a physical weight pressing down on my shoulders, making my knees want to buckle with every single step I took. The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant, muffled bass of the music below. I forced my legs to move, my soft slippers making no sound on the expensive rug. I stopped in front of the massive double doors of the central suite, intricately carved with the royal crest. Taking one last shallow breath to steady the tremors in my hands, I reached out and slowly turned the brass handle.

​The room inside was cast in deep, heavy shadows, illuminated only by the faint, amber glow of a dying hearth. Standing by the floor-to-ceiling glass window, looking out over the sprawling, moonlit kingdom, was a tall, imposing silhouette. He wore a heavy velvet cloak, his broad shoulders cutting a terrifyingly beautiful figure against the glass. Even without looking at his face, the sheer, intoxicating weight of his alpha presence pinned me to the spot, making it incredibly hard to draw air into my lungs.

​"You're late," a deep, gravelly voice echoed through the dark room. The sound was a low, resonant rumble that sent an involuntary shiver traveling straight down my spine.

​"Your Highness," I breathed, forcing my voice to remain steady as I stepped further into the room, letting the heavy wood doors click shut behind me with a soft thud. "I brought what you asked for. The stolen ledger from the northern borders. I have it right here, in exchange for the antidote."

​The silhouette stirred. He didn't turn around immediately, but I could feel his invisible gaze locking onto me through the darkness, tracking the sound of my uneven breathing. When he finally turned and stepped into the dim amber light of the fireplace, my breath hitched entirely. Beneath his dark satin mask, his jawline was sharp, his lips curved into a cold, dangerous smirk. Physically, he looked exactly like every portrait and holographic broadcast of the crown prince. But as he closed the distance between us, his movements weren't just elegant they were predatory. Wild. Unchecked.

​Before I could utter another syllable or hand over the pouch, a large, calloused hand wrapped firmly around my waist. With a swift, effortless pull, he hauled me flush against his solid, burning chest. The sheer, dominant power radiating off his skin was overwhelming, completely paralyzing my senses.

​"Is that what we're playing tonight?" he murmured, his breath hot and dangerous against my ear as his free hand trailed a burning path up the exposed skin of my spine. "Games of business and blackmail in the dark?"

​"Kaelen, please" I gasped, placing both palms against his chest to push him away. It was like trying to move a wall of solid marble. The heat radiating from him was dizzying, making my thoughts scatter like leaves in a storm.

​A dark, low chuckle rumbled deep within his chest, a sound far too rough, far too unhinged for the polished, media-trained crown prince I had spent weeks researching. His grip tightened around my waist, his fingers digging into my hips, pulling me into an inescapable embrace as his gaze trapped mine.

​"You have the wrong twin, little bird," he whispered against my lips, his eyes suddenly flashing with a terrifying, golden predatory light in the shadows.

​My blood turned to absolute ice. The suffocating, untamed aura filling the room didn't belong to the crown prince. It belonged to Killian the exiled rogue king. The monster who was supposed to have been executed five years ago. And I was trapped right in his arms, completely at his mercy.