The Lycan King’s Mark

CHAPTER 1 – THE FUNERAL

Nevara

I stood just far enough back from the crowd to avoid their glances, but close enough to see the casket suspended above the earth. The sleek black wood looked cold in the October light—too polished, too final. Like even death had to be presentable for a former Beta.

My brother would’ve hated that.

He hated pretense. Hated when things were done just for show. I could almost hear his voice whispering in my ear, teasing me about my stiff posture and pressed dress. “Loosen up, Nev. You’re not auditioning for a mortician’s apprentice.”

My throat clenched.

I hadn’t cried. Not yet. Not once. Not when the pack elder called to say there had been an accident. Not when I had to help my mother pick out the casket. Not when I ironed my father’s shirt because his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

And not now.

Because if I started, I wouldn’t stop. I'm the Beta's little sister. The Luna of the pack. No one here—not my husband, not my parents, not even Nickolai’s four-year-old son—could afford to watch me fall apart.

None of that mattered anymore.

The only person who ever truly saw me—who ever chose me—was now being lowered into the ground.

A hushed murmur rippled through the mourners. I glanced up.

Vanessa had arrived. My sister-in-law.

Late to her own husband’s funeral, I don’t think one could get any more disrespectful than that.

Wearing a black dress that fit her like a tailored glove, her honey-blonde hair swept into a low chignon, dark sunglasses hiding her eyes. She looked every inch the grieving widow—but I knew better. I’d seen the way she smiled too quickly at pack events. How she always seemed to be waiting for someone to tell her she’d done a good job playing the part.

Noah trotted beside her, clinging to the hem of her dress. The poor kid looked lost. His tie was crooked. His shoes were untied. And not a single person stepped in to help.

I moved to go to him—instinctively—but stopped myself.

I was beat to the punch anyway.

My husband, Alpha Tobias, stepped out from the front row and bent down, tying Noah’s laces with quiet efficiency. He murmured something low, then stood and offered his arm to Vanessa.

She took it without hesitation.

I watched, unseen, as Tobias guided her to the front row. Right next to my parents. Right where my brother’s wife belonged. Only she’d never really been his wife, had she?

My mother stiffened the moment Vanessa sat down beside her. Her spine straightened, shoulders tight as a drawn bowstring. My father placed a warning hand on her knee, but I could see it building—boiling just beneath the surface.

The priest’s voice droned on. Words about honor and sacrifice. About Nickolai’s legacy. About the “tragic” nature of his passing.

Tragic, they said. Unexpected.

But I remembered the night Nickolai told me what he was doing.

“She wants to go skydiving,” he’d said, laughing like he didn’t believe it himself. “Vanessa saw some influencer do it and now it’s on her bucket list. She signed us both up.”

I had frowned. “You hate heights.”

“Yeah, but she’s excited about it. Says it’ll make us feel more alive.”

But Vanessa hadn’t jumped. She’d backed out at the last second, claiming she “wasn’t feeling well.” Nickolai had gone up anyway, wanting to prove something. Or maybe just not wanting to disappoint her.

Now he was in a box. And she was in the front row, dry-eyed, perfectly composed.

“I still can’t believe he went through with it,” my mother whispered, loud enough for everyone around her to hear. “He would’ve never done something so reckless before she came along.”

“Mama—” I warned gently.

“No, Nevara,” she snapped. “Tell me I’m wrong. He wasn’t like that. He didn’t do dangerous things. He didn’t chase adrenaline. She got inside his head. She made him believe he had something to prove.”

I glanced toward Vanessa. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t look back.

“And then she bailed,” my mother continued, voice cracking. “She’s the one who wanted to jump. He went up there for her. And now he’s—he’s gone.”

My father squeezed her hand. “Sheryl. Enough.”

She swallowed hard and turned her face away. Her jaw trembled. I’d never seen her cry. Not even when my grandmother passed. But her hand clutched my father’s like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

The priest said something about letting Nickolai’s soul return to the moon. The pack murmured their part in unison.

I didn’t.

My soul wasn’t ready to let him go.

When the service ended, people began to disperse in quiet clumps. Some approached Vanessa with murmured condolences. Some awkwardly avoided her. My parents didn’t say a word to her. I wasn’t sure I would’ve either.

I lingered near the headstone, not ready to leave. A few steps away, Noah crouched beside the fresh mound of flowers, his tiny hands poking at the dirt. I watched him silently. Nickolai had tried so hard to be a good father. He used to carry Noah on his shoulders during pack runs, even though the elders scowled at him for it.

“Children were not to be on runs.” They would say.

“He loved that kid,” I whispered.

“He did.” The voice behind me sent a chill down my spine.

Tobias.

I turned slowly. He was close—too close—but that wasn’t new. He was always around when it suited him. Just never when I needed him.

“He talked about him all the time,” I said quietly, eyes still on Noah.

Tobias nodded once. “That’s why I’m moving them into the pack house.”

My head snapped toward him. “What?”

“It’s what Nickolai would’ve wanted,” he said. “Noah’s just a child. He shouldn’t have to feel displaced. And Vanessa… she’s grieving. She needs support.”

I stared at him, stunned. “She has support. She has her own house.”

“She doesn’t want to stay there. Too many memories.”

“Of the husband she manipulated into jumping out of a plane?”

His expression darkened. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” I said flatly. “It’s not.”

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Look, this isn’t a debate. I’ve already made the decision. It’s temporary.”

“Of course,” I said, my voice hollow.

He hesitated. “You’ve barely said a word since the accident.”

And you barely noticed, I thought. But I didn’t say it.

I simply turned back toward the grave, blinking hard. “What’s there to say?”

Behind me, he said nothing. Just lingered for a moment longer, then walked away.

I waited until I was sure he was gone before I knelt at the base of the headstone. My hand brushed over the etching.

Nickolai Laurent. Loyal Brother. Brave Beta. Taken Too Soon.

“Do you see what they’re doing, Nico?” I whispered. “He’s already replacing you. Your wife. Your home. Your place in this pack. You deserved better than this.”

A breeze stirred the flowers.

“I miss you,” I said, the words catching on the edge of my throat. “I miss your bad jokes and your terrible cooking. I miss how you always knew when something was wrong before I even said a word.”

I pressed my palm flat against the stone. “I don’t know how to do this without you.”

A pause.

Then—just for a second—I thought I heard his voice in my head.

You do. You always have. You’re stronger than you think, Nev.

I closed my eyes, let the wind press against my face, and allowed myself a single tear. Just one. Then I stood, squared my shoulders, and walked away.