Claimed by the Beastly Lycan King

My world ended with the sound of Tyren moaning another girl’s name. At first, I thought I had misheard him. I stood outside the old grain shed behind the ceremonial grounds, my hand still on the half-open door, my chest rising too fast I could hear each beat. Music from the mating feast drifted through the night behind me. Laughter., drums and cups slamming together. The whole pack celebrating mate bonds and a prosperous future. Then I heard his voice again moaning amidst lust. But it was not my name. Not Kaelira. It was her name. I pushed the door wider, and whatever was left of me cracked clean down the middle. Tyren Ashford had a girl pinned against the wall, one hand under her skirts, his mouth on her throat, his body pressed into hers like he had never once belonged anywhere else. She was breathing in broken little gasps, clutching his shoulders, and Tyren, the boy who had held my face three nights ago and told me to trust him, looked feverish with lust. For a second, the world around me stopped. I stood frozen, my heart shattering into a millionaire pieces. I shook my head slowly as the sounds of their kisses filled the room. I felt something wet my cheeks. My hand lifted, brushing my skin and only then did I realize I was crying. Watching the only boy I had trusted hos words for good seven years f*****g another girl in my presence without noticing me shattered every ounce of strength I thought I had. “You know what, Tryen?” “You are f*****g useless.” I said, my voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. They froze in shock and Tyren’s head turned towards me. For a second, none of us moved. Then the girl turned her head and saw me. Her lips were swollen, her hair a total mess. And then she let out a slow, ugly smile. “Tyren,” she whispered, and I think she only said his name so it would cut me deeper. “You didn't tell her?” My body went still. I stared at his face and I waited for reget, guilt, shame, anything. Just anything that would make me believe that the boy I trusted for seven years was not a mere sham. But all I saw was irritation. Like I was the inconvenience. My throat burned. “What is this, Tyren?” He let the girl go lazily and stepped back. “It is exactly what it looks like.” The answer hit harder than a slap. I stared at him in shock. “You said you wanted us to talk after the ceremony.” “I do,” he said. “This would help in explaining everything.” I laughed, but my voice came out in the wrong tone. Shaky and huumiliated. “Helps what?” He straightened his tunic as if I were the one making a scene. “Helps you understand reality and wakes you up from your world of fantasies.” The girl, Mira, I realized with a sick jolt, the healer’s niece, folded her arms and leaned against the wall like she had every right to stand there. Maybe she did. Maybe I had been the only fool in the Nightbane pack who still believed seven years of whispered promises meant something. Tyren walked toward me. I should have stepped back but I did not. For seven years, Tyren had been my first everything. First friend. The first boy who did not laugh when the other children called me weak-blood. First person who touched my hand like I wasn’t something breakable or cursed. He had kissed me by the river when I was fifteen and told me I would always be his. Now he stopped inches away from me and said, very quietly. “Wake up, Kaelira.” “We were never meant to be together.” My whole face went hot. “You told me,” I said, and my voice cracked so hard I felt I would die. “You told me to wait for you.” “You promised us a future.” “What are you saying, Tyren?” The lady sentence was followed by a stream of tears I could no longer control. “I told you many things because you were easy to soothe.” That did it. Whatever fragile thing that had kept me upright snapped. I shoved him with both hands. “You liar.” “Shut up.” Tyren barely moved. His eyes hardened, and in the next breath he caught my wrist, squeezing just enough to hurt. “Lower your voice.” “Or what?” I hissed. Something changed in his face then. But it was not regret, not anger either — Decision. A terrible, final sort of decision. He dragged me out of the shed before I could wrench free. I stumbled after him, breathless, as he hauled me straight toward the ceremonial fire pit where the whole pack stood gathered under moonlight and banners. Immediately we walked in, music faltered and conversations died one by one. Every pair of eyes landed on me. “No. No, no, no.” I begged, humiliation, burning through my throat. “Tyren,” I whispered, trying to pull free. “Don’t do this.” But he already was. He stopped in the center of the clearing and released me so suddenly I nearly fell. The pack ringed us in a wide circle.mile Elder women, warriors, unmated girls who had spent all evening staring at Tyren like he was a prize. My father near the front. Marissa my stepmother, beside him, a proud smile plastered on her face. Even little Eli was somewhere at the back, too young to understand what he was about to see. Tyren lifted his voice. “I want this made clear tonight so no one mistakes kindness for a claim.” I suddenly stopped breathing. The silence was brutal. Tyren looked at me with a coldness I had never seen before. “Kaelira Vale is not my mate. She never was. She never will be.” The first laugh came from somewhere behind me. Then another and then the sound spread. I stood there frozen while heat rushed under my skin. “Tyren...” He did not stop. “She is weak. She is beneath me. And if she confused my pity for love, that is her own delusion.” The words landed one after another, each one sharp enough to cut. I shook my head because I did not know what else to do. “That’s not true. You said you loved me.” His smile was cruel now. “Did I?” My mouth opened, but no sound came out. He slipped an arm around Mira’s waist and pulled her against him. She leaned into him as if she had been waiting her whole life for this moment. “This,” he said, glancing down at her, “is the kind of woman who suits a future Beta. Not some frail little thing with no value whatsoever .” I heard the murmur that moved through the crowd. Frail. Little thing. Useless I had spent my whole life hearing versions of those words. Tonight they sounded worse because they came from him. My father’s face was hard as stone. Marissa’s lips were pressed into a smile. Tyren leaned closer and lowered his voice just enough that only I could hear the last part. “You should thank me. Now you can stop dreaming above your place.” Then he spat at my feet. The sound that tore out of me did not even feel human. I turned before anyone could see the tears spill and ran. I ran past the fire pit, past the training yard, past everyone watching to see me get humiliated the more. I ran until the cheers and laughter blurred into one ugly roar behind me. I did not stop until I reached home. Even then, I only made it as far as the hallway outside my father’s room before voices on the other side rooted me to the floor. “You cannot be serious,” my father snapped. Oh goddess! He was home already. “I am more serious than I have ever been,” Marissa shot back. “This humiliation is useful if you have the wit to see it.” Useful. My hand tightened against the wall. “She has already shamed us enough.” “She was shamed,” Marissa corrected sharply. “And that makes her desperate. Desperate girls obey. She will go to the Lycan King’s mating ball.” My blood went cold. Father gave a harsh laugh. “For what? So the nobles can mock her too? The King has never chosen anyone. Why waste money dressing up a girl no one would look at twice?” “Because if he does look at her,” Marissa said, and I could hear the greed in every syllable, “we become a family favored by royalty. “We would have lots of gold, land and protection in return. And if the King does not want her, another noble Alpha might. Either way, she becomes useful.” I stared at the wood grain of the door, my pulse pounding in my ears. My whole life was placed on a table, being weighed for profit. “Enough,” my father growled. “I will not throw money at a fantasy.” “Then think of it another way,” Marissa said softly, and that softness was worse than shouting. “We can still trade her.” My stomach lurched. There was a pause. Then my father said, “Trade her to whom?” I pressed my palm over my mouth. Marissa lowered her voice, but I heard every word. “To whoever offers enough.” Something inside me went hollow. Not because I had never suspected they cared more about what I could bring them than who I was. But because tonight proved it. Tyren had not broken me enough for them to mourn. He had only made me easier to be traded. I took a step back, and the floorboard creaked. Silence fell inside the room. My heart stopped. Then Marissa’s voice came, smooth and alert. “Did you hear that?” My hand was still on the door board and just there I realized, too late, that I was no longer just the girl Tyren had rejected. I was the girl my family had decided to put a price on.