The Lycan Prince's Unwanted Mate

A Rogue Turned Prince

~Kael~

The party sprawled around a massive pool. Lycans lounged in the water, laughter and splashes mingling with the pulse of bass-heavy music.

A blindfolded she-wolf giggled as she stumbled through the crowd. Whoever she caught, she kissed and made out. No questions. No names. Acting purely based on desires and lust.

I sat in the farthest, darkest corner, untouched by the chaos around me.

A whiskey glass dangled idly from my fingers, the amber liquid catching the dim light, while my other hand rested effortlessly on the armrest.

Tonight was supposed to be my wedding with Lyra, the blind she-wolf that my father, the Lycan King, had chosen for me himself.

So instead of showing up at the altar, I held a party here. I made sure that I sent them both a very clear message.

No one decides what I do or who I marry.

I was tired of being ordered, controlled, shaped into something I was never meant to be.

As I sat here, watching the wildest party unfold, lycans losing themselves to their primal desires.

Mates. s*x. Love. I found none of it interested me.

Well, except for that night, I lost control when I found Lyra in my bed.

"Because she’s our fated mate, Kael. You shouldn’t have treated her like that.” Adam—my wolf—whispered in the back of my mind.

"Then tell me what I should do?" I shot back, voice sharp with irritation. "You know I don’t believe in fate. If I did, I would’ve never survived long enough for those royal dogs to find me."

Ever since I was kidnapped as a child, I had been raised by rogues. I ate like them. Fought like them. Killed like them. Lawless. Unrestrained.

Not a long ago, the Lycan King found me, saying I was his son. Since then he had dragged me back into this world, demanding I play prince. Demanding I marry my fated mate. A she-wolf who, until now, was nothing more than a one-night stand.

"I know…" Adam hesitated. "But we have been losing control too often lately. Staying close to our fated mate… it could help suppress the primal instincts."

Primal instincts. A nice way of saying losing myself to the beast. If a Lycan couldn't control their shift, there would be no turning back. No humanity left. It can be way worse than living like a rogue.

"I know," I muttered, rubbing my temple. "That’s why I’ve been tracking down herbs, working with witches to suppress it. And making sure no one at court finds out. It hasn’t been easy."

"Then why not try Lyra, Kael?" Adam pushed. "She can help. Just be nice for her once. You’re so damn arrogant, and you’re ruining my chance with her wolf, too. I barely caught Vaxy’s scent last time."

Before I could respond, Darius approached. He was clad in a black hoodie, moved through the party’s chaos like a shadow.

He had been my only trusted friend during my years with the rogues. And when I returned, I brought him with me. Now, he was my Beta.

"Kael." His words pulled me from my conversation with Adam. "I interrogated Rylan and his mother, Amelia."

A pause.

"They confirmed that Princess Lyra hasn’t been with another male since that night." His tone darkened. "The child in her womb is definitely yours."

Darius handed me a stack of photos. I discarded my whiskey and took them, glancing briefly. Rylan’s face was unrecognizable. Beaten so badly his swollen features were barely distinguishable.

No one could lie under those conditions. I clicked my tongue. "Your methods are getting darker."

No sympathy in my voice.

Darius chuckled. "I learned from the best.” Then, as if testing the waters, he added, "And according to his confession, the honey trap wasn’t Princess Lyra’s doing. She was innocent. In fact, she was often abused—humiliated—by those two scumbags."

His gaze flicked to mine. "Kael… should I take revenge for Princess Lyra?"

I stilled.

Revenge for her?

I narrowed my eyes.

Darius stiffened. "Th-this… I mean, she’s already married into the Royal Family, right? And she’s your fated mate, so naturally, I think about revenging for her—"

Damn.

"Is that so?" I tossed the photos aside, leaned back, and closed my eyes. "Did you have too many spare time lately?"

Darius remained silent.

After a while, his voice returned, hesitant. "I mean, Kael, tonight is your wedding night. You never sleep at the Manor. And you always need… noise to fall asleep. Wouldn’t it be a perfect opportunity to just go home now? Sleep with your fated mate? Maybe it’ll help suppress—"

"Don't mention her again."

Darius sighed, turning to leave—Then I smelled her. An unfamiliar she-wolf. I opened my eyes.

The she-wolf was dripping wet, a bikini clinging to her body as she sauntered toward me. "Prince Kael, why aren’t you joining us?"

Her fingers traced the buttons of my shirt, teasing them open. "Has anyone told you how stunning your eyes are, Prince Kael? Like gems… so bright. So intoxicating." Then, a playful smile. "Why don’t I keep you company tonight? A long night along can be very suffering"

“Keep my company?” My voice was flat, emotionless.

The she-wolf probably mistook my words for flirtation, thinking she had a chance. She leaned closer, her tone softening, positioning herself as if she were some kind of confidante. "You’ve just returned to the Royal Family. It must be difficult to adjust, right? I can make you…comfortable and happier in a way that none other she-wolf do.”

Somehow her mention of making me more comfortable and happier, I thought about my little blind mate.

And since my silence had encouraged her to go further, "And after the Queen’s passing, life without a mother must be tough. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here too."

A flash of white-hot anger. I turned my head slowly toward her, a dangerous smirk curling at my lips. Leaning forward slightly, I let my fingers brush along the rim of my whiskey glass, slow, deliberate. "Life without a mother must be tough?"

Her breath hitched, her bold demeanor faltering just slightly. But she quickly recovered, flashing me another coy smile. "I only meant that I understand you, Prince Kael. You must be lonely."

Lonely. I almost laughed. If loneliness was a weakness, I had long since turned it into a weapon.

I tilted my head, amusement flickering in my eyes. “How generous of you.”

She beamed, misinterpreting my tone for interest. "Of course, I’d be more than happy to offer—"

I caught her wrist.

A small, sharp gasp left her lips.

I didn’t squeeze. I simply held it, letting the coldness of my touch sink in, letting the weight of my gaze settle over her. "Let me teach you something about me, little wolf."

Her pulse spiked.

Leaning in, I whispered against her ear, low and dangerous, "I don’t need comfort. I don’t need company. And if you value your life, you’ll walk away before I decide to make an example out of you."

She stepped back, masking it with an awkward chuckle. "I—of course, Prince Kael. I didn’t mean to—"

“Get the f***k out of here.”

The flirtation in her expression shattered. She scurried away without another word, disappearing into the crowd of Lycan still lost in their drunken, meaningless games.

Pathetic.

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders, already tired of this place.

"You could have just let her down gently, you know.” Darius’s voice.

I didn’t turn to him. "She wasn’t worth the breath."

He sighed, but I caught the hint of amusement in it. “Then I hoped that you will act more gentler to your fated mate."

I ignored him. But the word—mate— It tightened around my heart like a snake, suffocating.

A fated mate meant destiny. And I had spent my entire life running from destiny.

"You can’t avoid her forever, Kael."

"Watch me."

I rose to my feet, my gaze settling on the glass window. My reflection stared back at me. A face I had seen a million times, yet somehow, it still felt foreign. Like watching a stranger wearing my skin.

Cold, dispassionate golden eyes—void of any warmth, a reflection of the beast lurking beneath.

Rage, barely restrained, simmered beneath my skin, coiled tight like a predator waiting to strike.

A body forged in battle—honed, powerful, muscular—yet scarred, marked by wounds that would never heal.

A rogue turned prince. A survivor turned heir. A beast barely held together by the chains of civility.

And now—an unwanted fated mate. I scoffed under my breath, tossing back the last of my whiskey before setting the glass down with a dull clink.