The Lycan Prince's Unwanted Mate

The Ruby Necklace

~Lyra~

Since that day in the limo with Kael, I was taken to the Lycan Royal Estate—a place far grander than I had imagined.

It wasn’t just a castle but a vast manor, a carefully designed labyrinth of mansions, each housing different members of the Lycan royal family.

Until my official relocation was determined, I was placed in one of these mansions, a guest in name but a prisoner in reality.

And while confined within these walls, I learned more about the Royal family’s hidden truths.

The Lycan King, Aldric, was not alone after the Lycan Queen’s passing. Though he never remarried, he surrounded himself with she-wolves—his favorite two were Lady Ana and Lady Evelyn.

Lady Ana had a son, Liam, and Lady Evelyn had a daughter, Celeste. Both were five years younger than Kael, making them about the same age as me.

Then there was the Lycan King himself.

He wasn’t the towering, formidable ruler I had imagined. Instead, he was a stocky man, his lips perpetually curved into a smile—a smile that never quite reached his eyes. There was no warmth in him, only calculation.

I suppose it was only fair for him to act that way—after all, he ruled over all the werewolf packs and Lycan in the entire Kingdom.

The Royal Manor was nothing but a battlefield of unspoken power struggles. One wrong move—one misplaced word—and I could be swept away in a tide I’d never escape.

In some ways, I considered myself lucky to continue been seen as just a blind she-wolf. No one paid attention to those they deemed insignificant. And it was much safer to remain an invisible bystander than to be seen as a threat.

My so-called mansion? Nothing more than a gilded cage, its perimeter guarded by the Royal Were Army. Security was very strict—so suffocating that even a fly wouldn’t escape unnoticed.

Today, standing before me, was Carol—the King’s Beta and his most trusted left-hand man.

“Miss Lyra,” he said, his tone flat. “Before your wedding with the Prince Kael takes place, the King has summoned you to the Grand Hall. He wishes to have a word with you.”

My hands instinctively curled at my sides. The King wanted to speak to me? This wasn’t good. My mind raced through possibilities as I stared at Carol. He, as always, gave nothing away. I had no choice but to obey.

Moments later, I found myself being escorted through the vast hallways, my heartbeat a steady drum in my ears.

The Grand Hall was as imposing as the rest of the estate, its high ceilings decorated with golden chandeliers, its polished marble floors reflecting the glow of the flickering candlelight.

When the doors creaked open, the Lycan King sat at the far end of the room, surrounded by a handful of wolf courtiers. His calculating gaze locked onto me the moment I stepped in.

“Miss Lyra,” he greeted, “Come closer.”

My feet felt heavy, but I forced them forward.

“Do you know why you are here?” he asked, his voice laced with something I couldn’t quite decipher.

I chose my words carefully. “I was told you wished to speak with me, Your Majesty.”

His smile widened ever so slightly. “Indeed. Tell me, Miss Lyra, what do you think it means to be a future Princess of the Lycan?”

A trap. Every word in this conversation would be a test.

I swallowed my unease and answered as neutrally as possible. “It means serving the Lycan kingdom, Your Majesty.”

The King leaned forward, his smile never faltering. “Good. Because, my dear, serving the Lycan kingdom means understanding the price of loyalty. We both know that you are just a werewolf but you are marrying into a Lycan royal. So I intend to ensure your loyalty to us before your wedding takes place.”

I kept my head lowered. It would be even more difficult to feign blindness before the Lycan King. His piercing gaze felt as if it could strip away my facade, seeing straight through me.

“Now tell me,” he continued, “Do you know what rumors have been circulating throughout the kingdom?”

“What kind of rumors, Your Majesty?” I asked cautiously.

He chuckled, but there was no warmth in the sound. “The son of your father’s Beta, Rylan, has been speaking quite freely. He claims you are nothing more than a pampered Alpha’s daughter, struggling to adjust after your fall from grace. That, in your desperation, you threw yourself into my son Kael’s bed, hoping to claw your way back into status.”

I inhaled sharply, forcing myself to remain composed. “Your Majesty, I would never sell myself to restore my family’s name. If I wished to reclaim my place, I would do so with dignity.”

The King studied me for a long moment before breaking into laughter. “That’s what I thought.” He waved a hand dismissively, as if amused by the idea. “Now, tell me, do you desire a wedding gift? Name it, and it shall be yours. The mother of my future grandson should be pleased, after all.”

I hesitated, my mind racing. Finally, I found my voice. “I have heard a ruby necklace rests within the castle.”

In truth, I had seen it. One day, while being led to my house, I passed a hallway where the necklace hung around the neck of a mannequin.

It had once belonged to my mother. I recognized it instantly—not just for its striking beauty, but because I had dropped it once as a child, leaving a small, nearly imperceptible crack in the string.

“I would be happy with only that ruby necklace,” I clarified softly.

The King arched a brow. “You ask for a mere necklace?”

“Yes. I remember its beauty. And I had seen it once before I lost my sight. Owning it again would remind me of the happy memories from before.”

The King looked at me as though I had gone mad. I had been granted the perfect opportunity to ask for anything—wealth, land, power—and yet, I had chosen a necklace with a broken string.

Still, he granted my request.

Ever since the rogue attack, everything Evergreen once owned had been scattered across the kingdom—resold, stolen, or absorbed into the wealth of the Royal Lycan Family.

That necklace was one of the last remnants of my past, and now, for the first time in years, a piece of it would return to me.

…

Another two days passed, and at last, the royal wedding arrived.

I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. My hair cascaded in perfect, glossy waves, framing my face with an effortless elegance. My lips, painted in a delicate shade of rose, complemented the ethereal glow of my skin. The gown draped over me was a masterpiece—a vision of ivory silk and lace, its silver-threaded embroidery shimmering under the soft candlelight, as if woven with moonlight itself.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. The maid entered, her eyes downcast. "Miss Lyra, it's time."

My hands trembled slightly as I took over her hand.

I was escorted into the grand courtyard. The sight before me was both breathtaking and suffocating—dozens of Lycan royals adorned in their finest, their expressions masked with indifference as they observed my every move.

At the far end, there was no sign of Kael.

I remained poised, playing the part of the blind bride, my gaze fixed blankly ahead.

Then, Carol rushed in, his breath uneven as he approached the King and shook his head in silent urgency.

King's face turned livid with rage."Find him," he ordered, his tone laced with barely contained fury. "Now."

Carol bowed swiftly before disappearing into the crowd, and with that, the ceremony came to a halt before it could even begin.