3. The Lycan King

Marcellous's POV

“Trespassers were found, Supreme Alpha.”

Nate's voice sliced through my mind like a blade.

The words came through our mind-link with enough urgency to snap my attention away from the woman writhing beneath me, but not enough to improve my mood.

If anything, it worsened it.

A growl rumbled deep in my chest as I grabbed Lilith by the waist and pushed her off me.

She landed on the mattress with a startled gasp, strands of dark hair spilling over her bare shoulders as confusion clouded her pretty face. Her lips were swollen from kissing me, her hazel eyes dazed with lust, her chest rising and falling from the effort of trying—and failing—to satisfy me.

For days now, something had been wrong.

No.

Not wrong.

Off.

My wolf had been restless, agitated, violent, and above all, unsatisfied—in a way I had never experienced before.

The hunger clawing inside me had become unbearable.

I have fucked Lilith three times today already. Before her, two others. And before them, another.

Still, the hunger remained. My wolf still paced like a caged beast. Still, something inside me snarled in frustration, demanding more.

But the question remained: more of what exactly?

That was the fucking problem.

I didn’t know.

I’ve never used those shitty words before in my life. Never felt so uncertain of anything.

Lilith slowly crawled toward me again, moving with practiced seduction. Every motion of her body was calculated to tempt. She knew exactly how to arch her back, how to part her lips, how to let desire drip from her voice.

“Alpha Marcellous,” she purred, reaching my chest. “What’s wrong?”

Her fingers traced my skin.

My wolf recoiled. The reaction was immediate and brutal.

He felt disgusted.

I stiffened. "What the bloody hell was that?" I asked my wolf. "She had just been the one satisfying us right now so why feel disgusted, Onyx?"

He didn't fucking answer.

Lilith’s scent, usually warm, enticing, familiar—suddenly felt overwhelming, cloying, and wrong, and I was slowly beginning to feel nauseated too.

My jaw tightened. “I have to go.”

Her brows furrowed. “Go? But—”

Disbelief entered her voice. Of course she was shocked.

Lilith had always been my bed partner for years. We had a mutual agreement that there wouldn’t be any commitment, emotions, or any bloody promises attached.

Just pleasure.

She got access to my bed and the fame it brought to her. I got the satisfaction of sex. Simple and convenient.

She shifted, turning slowly until her back faced me. Her lace lingerie barely covered her body. She looked over her shoulder.

A deliberate, seductive invitation.

“Alpha...” Her voice lowered into a sultry whisper. “What about round four?”

I didn’t feel the hunger or lust she wanted me to. I felt bloody irritated.

My wolf snarled so viciously inside me that I felt the force of it in my bones.

I shut my eyes. My patience snapped.

“Get out!” My voice boomed, forcing her to stop moving closer.

Lilith froze. She looked at me, shocked and bewildered.

The room went silent.

“Alpha—”

My eyes opened. Red burned through them. My aura exploded.

Lilith’s breath caught.

“Are you deaf?” My tone dropped dangerously low. “Be on your bloody way!”

Fear hit her scent immediately. Good. That was the appropriate reaction.

She scrambled off the bed, clutching the sheet to her chest.

I didn’t look at her again. She knew better than to push.

Within seconds, she fled. The door shut behind her. Silence returned.

I dragged a hand down my face. What is wrong with us? My bloody wolf gave no answer. Only restless pacing filled with anger and hunger.

I entered the shower and turned on the water. It was cold enough to sting.

Usually, cold water helped me regain control.

Tonight, it did nothing. The heat remained, hot as ever. Affecting my whole body from head to my fucking toes.

By the time I stepped out, water still rolled down my chest and back. A towel hung low around my waist as I walked toward the closet.

My shirt lay on the floor.

My nose crinkled as Lilith’s scent wafted from the shirt when I picked it up with two fingers like it disgusted me—which, to my irritation, it did.

I stared at it.

Revulsion rose, and I threw it straight into the waste bin.

I mind-linked one of the maids around. She entered, bowing her head so fast her forehead nearly touched the floor. “S-Supreme Alpha.”

I buttoned a fresh black shirt. “Burn that.”

She blinked. “The shirt?”

I turned, voice colder now. “What useless servants are employed these days? Of course, I meant the bloody shirt.”

After a pause, I said, “And the bedsheets too. The scent disgusts me. Ensure that when I’m back, nothing of it remains.”

She visibly trembled. “Yes, Supreme Alpha.”

I walked out without another word. My irritation followed me like a storm cloud.

Trespassers. Rogues, obviously. Who else would be dumb enough to cross my borders uninvited?

I descended the grand staircase of Draven Fortress, my boots echoing against the black marble. Every servant I passed lowered their head instantly.

No one spoke. No one dared.

Good. They understood hierarchy. They understood fear.

As it should be.

I was Marcellous Draven. Supreme Alpha. King of Lycans and Werewolves. Ruler of the strongest territory amongst other territories. CEO of Draven Enterprise.

My reputation spoke for me as the apex predator in a world full of predators. And tonight, my temper was hanging by a thread.

I entered my car and started the engine.

Immediately, I reached Nate.

"Are they rogues?" I already knew the answer. Still, protocol mattered.

“Yes, Alpha,” Nate answered. “Do you want me to deal with them?”

I accelerated fast.

“No.” My voice was ice. “Bring them to the dungeon.” I paused, then added: “I’ll kill them myself.”

My wolf liked that. I felt him still. He was listening, his interest piqued. Blood always improved his mood.

Mine too.

Maybe ripping apart a few rogues would finally calm whatever madness had possessed us this week.

Maybe. Or maybe not. Either way— Someone was dying tonight.