The Mate I Was Never Meant To Have

A Lycan King

The rogue wolves attacked. Hundreds of them shot from the tree line, their crimson eyes penetrating the dark.

My heart struck fiercely against my ribs. I had never seen so many rogue gathered together. Not even the most powerful Alpha would risk facing a group this many.

Still, Lucien did not hesitate. He stood composed and completely unaffected, between me and the approaching tide. The wolves were still a few seconds away, but he did not back off, change, or panic. Their growls shook the ground.

I gazed at his back, panic stifling my voice.

"Lucien!"

His golden eyes remained fixed on the charging pack.

"Stay behind me," he instructed.

Though the command was quiet, it had a lot of weight and power that called for quick compliance. I backed off without even considering it.

The lead rogue sprang, its jaws opened wide, teeth pointed directly at Lucien's neck. What came next was too quick for me to fully grasp. The wolf was flying sideway one minute, next it was in the air. As the enormous animal crashed into a dense pine and fell immobile, and a nauseating cracking sound echoed across the forest. It laid dead.

The other rogues came to a stop, shock permeating through the pack. I gasped in surprise. Lucien had killed a totally grown rogue wolf with a single, human punch, even without shifting. It was impossible.

The rogues appeared to reach thesame conclusion, hesitation pervading their fierce eyes. Whoever was pulling their strings, though, was rejecting failure. Deep inside the woods, a harsh, dominating growl burst out, driving the pack forward once more. This time they came all at once.

Almost bored, Lucien let out a tiny sigh.

"Very well."

The air around him changed form. From his body, a sudden, suffocating explosion of force pushed me back. The weight was unbearable; it was ancient, stifling, and horrible. Every survival instinct I possessed screamed one word: 'Run'.

Then Lucien's bones started to split. Muscles stretched beneath his black clothes as a golden glow streamed from his skin. The change was nothing like a typical werewolf's shift; this was something far older, and far more awful. He stretched over the clearing as strong, black fur ripped through his flesh and razor-sharp nails came from his fingertips. His golden eyes burned like twin suns.

A big, seven-foot tall monster stood where the man had been after the dust had settled. Highly muscular, half-wolf, half-man, totally scary. The children's dreams were truly terrifying.

I could barely breathe. Every Alpha covertly dreaded this apex predator, the creature at the top of the werewolf hierarchy. The Lycan King.

Though his form was terrible, Lucien turned over his shoulder and a cold, crisp intellect remained in his eyes.

"Do not move," he said and let hell free.

The forest burst into anarchy. Lucien hit the rogue pack like a live cyclone. Wolves shot into the air rag dolls. Trees fractured under his weight and the earth shook with every stride.

I couldn't really follow his motion. He moved with an impossible, terrible efficiency, each of his strikes prooving deadly.

The rogues understood within minutes that they were totally outmatched. Their lines broke when panic set in, and many tried to rush off into the vegetation but none got away.

The killing stopped just as rapidly as it started. Apart from the sound of heavy breathing, silence descended back upon the forest. Blood-stained clearings had bodies scattered all over them. Unscathed, untouched, and utterly victorious, Lucien stood in the middle of the s*******r.

The change gradually undid itself. Apart from his golden eyes, which still hummed with leftover power, the large frame shrank till he seemed all human once more.

I looked at him in a daze. The ancient lore had not done him justice. Though the stories painted him as terrible, the reality was much grimmer. He was unassailable.

Lucien came up to me, his eyes checking all over me.

"Are you hurt?"

The question surprised me. Seeing such casual cruelty, I least expected real worry.

"No," I said, barely audible.

"Good." His eyes narrowed somewhat. "You should to be."

I let out a frown.

"What exactly do you mean?"

Lucien pointed at the dead wolves.

"They disregarded less difficult targets."

A cold perspiration started all throughout my skin. He made sense. The thieves hadn't attacked the major settlement and hadn't engaged Lucien until he pushed their hand. They had been keeping an eye on me.

"Why?"

For the first time, a shadow of doubt flashed over Lucien's face.

"That is what worries me,"

Before I could respond, a searing, blinding pain shot throughout my body. My knees gave way, sending me plummeting to the ground and a wail tore from my lips. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire.

"What... what is happening?"

A brilliant silver light exploded under my skin, and the enigmatic symbols from earlier showed up once more, crawling up both of my arms in dazzling. They were old geometric designs.

Lucien fell to one knee close to me, his face darkening with sudden realization.

"No. Not right now."

I could hardly hear him over the buzzing in my ears. The pain grew stronger and clear, fractured images started to fill my hed. I saw images of a perfect obsidian throne, a heavy silver crown, a woman with eyes that shimmered like starlight, and scenes of a terrible war full with fire and blood.

"The Queen's blood returns." A resonant, antique voice said inside my head

I yelled, then the world turned completely dark.

I opened my eyes and saw the gentle light of a rising sun flowing through a vast bank of windows as I opened my eyes. I was lying in a large room with elegant dark-wood furnishings, high stone walls, and a view over a large, sweeping mountain range. It seemed absolutely unlike Mooncrest.

I sat up quickly.

"Easy," a voice cautioned from the shadows.

I swung her head around and saw Lucien seated in an armchair close to a blazing fireplace, watching me closely.

"Where am I?" I asked, dragging the thick covers to my breast.

"My Castle."

I blinked, processing the word 'Castle'. The parts then fit themselves.

"The Lycan Kingdom."

Slowly, Lucien nodded.

My breast experienced anxiety. Werewolves never voluntarily visited Lycan territory; the legends claimed those who did rarely came back the same, if at all.

"Why am I here?"

"You collapsed."

"My pack. I have to go back home."

"No," Lucien said, his voice dropping into a firm, unyielding register.

"Why not?"

Lucien was quiet for a few seconds. At last he got off his chair.

"Someone wants you gone."

The harsh remarks made ice run through my veins.

"What?"

"The rogues weren't a random scouting party," he remarked, heading toward the window. "They were sent specifically to find and kill you."

"That makes no sense." I said as I shook my head. "I am an omega. I have nothing."

"It makes sense to whoever called the strike." Lucien responded, turning back to face me. "The problem is, neither of us knows why"

I lowered my eyes to examine my bare arms. The glittering symbols had vanished, leaving just faint, silvery traces under my skin that nearly resembled faded scars.

"What happened to me in the woods?"

Lucien's face grew quite enigmatic.

"You tell me."

"I don't know," I said, my voice quavering. "I had never seen those before last night."

"I believe you," he murmured softly. "But someone else recognizes them."

A little knock at the solid wooden door stopped me from asking what he meant. An old man came in a minute afterward. Long white hair, sharp, intelligent eyes, and opulent, structured scholar's clothes distinguished him. He stopped halfway as his eyes dropped on me, his face going pale.

"No...", the elderly man panted.

Lucien's eyes narrowed, following the old man's response.

"You know her, Peter."

The man gently came toward the bed, his hands shaking as tears welled in his eyes. I moved restlessly under his close scrutiny.

"From where do you recognize me? I have never left Mooncrest."

A few feet away the elderly man paused and gazed at me like a ghost. His voice hardly whispered when he at last spoke.

"She looks just like Queen Selene, thus she is probably her daughter."

The room turned into a stifling silence.

"Who is Queen Selene?" I pouted, looking between the two men.

While Lucien briefly closed his eyes and a deep sigh escaped his lips—as if a dark, long-hidden truth had just fallen into place—the elderly man's eyes sprang open in total shock.

"Not 'who', child", the man's voice trembled fiercely as he corrected me. He swallowed hard as he lowered his head. "Your Highness."

"What?" I asked, looking confused as I stared at him.

The elderly man bent over totally until his head almost brushed the stone floor, lowering himself gradually to one knee.

"Your Majesty... the lost heir at last returns."

And once more in under twenty-four hours, my entire world turned upside down.