The Lycan Prince’s Forgotten Mate

The Prince

Chapter Two

The supernatural world had its own rules. Paris knew that much. She had grown up hearing whispers about packs, Alphas, Lycans, and ranks. Humans lived beside wolves without understanding how deeply the two worlds overlapped. Among wolves, rank determined almost everything. Alphas controlled territory. Betas served them. Warriors protected the packs. Omegas were usually ignored. And above them all stood the Lycans. Ancient. Powerful. Rare. The Lycan royal family ruled over the supernatural kingdom, and their name carried enough weight to make even powerful Alphas lower their heads. Paris had never expected to meet one. Certainly not at work.

She was carrying a stack of documents through the office when Maya appeared beside her. “Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“The prince is here.”

Paris kept walking. “What prince?”

Maya stared at her. “Lucan Volswage.”

Paris stopped. “The Lycan prince?”

“Yes.”

“What is he doing here?”

“Business.” Paris shrugged.

Maya grabbed her arm. “You don't understand. He's supposed to be ridiculously handsome.” “Supposed?” Paris said with raised brows.

“You have no curiosity.”Maya said.

“I have bills.” Paris replied and Maya laughed.

“Look.” She showed Paris a photograph. Paris glanced at it. The man in the picture stood beside the Lycan King. He wore a black suit and had dark hair, broad shoulders, and an expression that could have frightened an entire room into silence.

“He looks angry,” Paris said. Maya looked offended. “That is not the point.”

“It is to me.” Paris handed back the phone.

“I have work.” She didn't know that, at that exact moment, Lucan Volswage was leaving the conference room. She also didn't know that fate had already decided their paths would cross. Paris reached the end of the corridor and knocked on the conference-room door. No answer. She knocked again. Still nothing.

“Hello?” The door opened. Paris nearly walked into him. She looked up. And kept looking. He was taller than she expected. Much taller. His black hair was slightly disheveled, as though he had been running his fingers through it. His eyes were dark, almost black, and his face was sharp enough to make him appear carved from stone. Paris stepped back.

“Sorry.” He did not move. She looked at the documents in her hands.

“I’m supposed to deliver these.” His eyes remained fixed on her. Something changed in his expression. Shock. Lucan had been searching for his mate for years. His wolf had never accepted anyone. He had believed the bond might come later, after he became king. Then Paris walked into the corridor. Her scent hit him like lightning. His wolf rose instantly. Mate. The word thundered through his mind. Our mate. Lucan forgot how to breathe. Paris frowned.

“Are you okay?” He could not answer. She shifted awkwardly.

“Sir?” Lucan finally found his voice.

“What is your name?”

“Paris.”

“Paris what?”

“Just Paris.” His eyes narrowed. “Where is your family?”

She laughed without humor. “My grandmother is at home.” Lucan looked at her surprised and asked “And your parents?”

“My mother left when I was eight.” The words were simple, but something in Lucan's chest tightened. “Where is she now?”.

He inquired.“I don't know.” Paris replied. He studied her. The bond was undeniable. But something else was wrong. Her wolf was silent. Completely silent. Lucan had never encountered such a thing. “Are you a wolf?”

Paris frowned. “Yes.”

“What rank?”

“I don't know.” He stared at her. “What do you mean, you don't know?”

“My wolf has never shifted.” Lucan felt a chill. Impossible. He opened his mouth to speak, but Paris held out the documents. “I have to go.” He stepped aside.

She walked past.

“Paris.” She stopped. Lucan looked at her. “Do you believe in fated mates?” She smiled faintly. “No.” Then she walked away. Lucan remained standing. His wolf growled. She is ours. He closed his eyes. For the first time in his life, the future king of the Lycan kingdom was afraid. Not for himself. For her.