Mated To The Lycan King Who Can’t Let Go

The moon hung over the treeline—huge, white, and nosy. I sat on my cot, blanket half-slid to the floor, surrounded by a bunch of of laundry, dusty boxes, and whatever creature had decided it was my "bug roommate" this week. The insulation had given up on life a long time ago so it was pretty cold now.

But the moon? She looked alive. Mocking me, maybe. Calling me, definitely.

This was the just place he kept me—my father, the loyal beta, the shining example of obedience. My existence was the one stain he could never scrub clean. Witch-born bastard child. A walking PR disaster. So he shoved me in the attic, called it "for my protection," and then made sure I never saw sunlight long enough to get a damn tan.

School? Outings? Pack life? Cute ideas. I wasn't even allowed to say I shared his DNA.

Did it hurt me? Not even close. I got bored with caring very early on. What I didn't get bored with was plotting.

Because honestly? I wanted to burn this entire pack down if I could.

My wolf wasn't some weak, half-starved thing either. I was fast, strong, sharp—too sharp. If the moon goddess had truly abandoned me the way he told me, then she had a hilarious way of showing it. Unnatural, they'd whisper if they saw what I could really do. Dangerous. And they'd be right.

And walls—especially these shitty wooden ones—can only hold me for so long.

Most days I snuck out anyway, sticking to shadows and timing it between patrols. When I needed food, I'd go to town during events when attention was elsewhere. Though that didn't always help. Half the pack thought I was a rogue who wandered too close. Honestly, that was flattering. Rogues at least had freedom.

Last time I tried to buy bread, the baker's face shriveled like he smelled something dead.

"Get lost before you drive away business," he snapped.

I held out the silver I'd lifted off my father, and that was apparently the cue for a public performance.

"She robbed someone!" he roared, and before I could say anything, he slapped me so hard my tooth fell out.

And then—of course—fate delivered the comedy duo.

Father walked by with the alpha. They both looked at me like I was floor mold.

"You'd think the strays would know how to behave by now," the alpha said, voice dripping casual contempt as they strolled off.

Didn't even break stride.

That night, with the sting still on my cheek, the moon practically vibrated with light. It felt... more alive than ever. Or maybe I was losing it. Hard to tell in a room with bugs as emotional support animals.

Every night after, I stared at that glowing face in the sky and planned my escape. No clear destination, sure—but freedom didn't need coordinates.

I was halfway out the window, fingers wrapped around the sill, when his voice cracked through the door:

"You keep your butt inside during the festival! If you show your face this blood moon, I'll have the alphas make sure the warriors finish what they should've years ago!"

He spat the words at me.

I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw a different dimension. Please. As if the guards he sent after me hadn't tried already. They'd caught me before—once or twice—and every time? I got away again. My survival instinct was pettier and meaner than any of them.

And I had leverage.

Oh, did I have leverage.

If he ever pushed it too far, I'd burn his reputation to ashes. One word and the pack would know their precious beta wasn't just a hypocrite—he was a coward who hid his own blood like she was a disease.

And if that didn't work?

Then worst-case scenario, I'd stop pulling punches an and I'd kill him before he killed me.

Simple math.

The night air cut through me the moment I slipped out the window. I scaled the side of the house, toes digging between the warped boards, breath steady, heart steady. The woods opened in front of me and started calling my name.

The moon watched.

And I ran.

***

The festival lights glittered through the trees like someone had shaken a handful of stars and let them scatter over the village below. From my perch high in an old pine, I watched families laugh, couples dance, pups chase each other in circles. Lanterns swung from strings overhead, warm and golden, making the entire place look soft and dreamy—like life should be.

I hugged my knees to my chest, hidden in the shadows of the branches. The music drifted up in little waves, mixed with the smell of roasted meat and sweet bread. For a heartbeat I let myself imagine being down there with them, being seen, being heard, being treated like a damn person instead of a secret locked in an attic.

What I wouldn't give to be normal for just one night.

The thought ached, so I climbed down before it could cut any deeper. My boots hit the forest floor softly, and I walked deeper into the trees, letting the noise fade behind me. Freedom tasted different tonight—sharper, sweeter.

Halfway through a clearing, the hair on my arms rose. Someone was behind me.

I stopped dead.

If they wanted a fight, fine. I wasn't the type to run from anything. I will always be the hunter.

The figure stepped into a beam of moonlight.

Dante.

The alpha's heir. The golden boy in training. I'd seen him from afar, usually surrounded by admirers who acted like he farted holy incense. Up close, he was... tall. Sharp jaw. Pretty hazel eyes. Whatever. Half the pack looked like that and I wasn't drooling over them.

Nepotism wearing a nice face was still nepotism.

Why the hell was he following me? Was he planning to tail me to the border and play hero?

We locked eyes, and the entire forest froze. Not just quiet—dead. No wind. No bugs. No distant music. My wolf surged like she'd been kicked awake by lightning.

Then everything hit at once.

My chest burned.

My skin tingled.

My stoic, "I hate everyone" wolf started doing cartwheels.

'Mine!' she snarled, thrilled.

Oh fuck no.

Is this that mate pull? I'd only ever read about it. It was supposed to feel like destiny.

Instead this felt like nausea, adrenaline, and someone yanking my heart with both hands. Obnoxious! Irritation like a rash.

Ugh!

Dante's face twisted. Confusion, then horror—then pure disgust.

"You've got to be kidding me." He actually stepped back like I'd flashed fangs at him. "No! There's just no way!"

"For what?" I asked, eyebrow raised. If I was going to die tonight, I was at least going to be sarcastic about it.

"Whatever kind of joke this is! I'm with Kori. She's my entire life."

Of course. Kori. The perfect princess poster child of the pack. Sweet, beloved, destined-for-greatness Kori. Even I had trouble hating her, though trust me—I managed fine.

Why does she get the world handed to her and I get... attic mold?

"Is that so? Lucky you," I said, forcing my wolf to stop vibrating. There was no danger. My father wasn't here. This whole thing was just cosmic comedy.

Dante scoffed. "Do you seriously think I'd throw that away for some dirty rogue with no known bloodline? Who the hell knows where you came from? Don't flatter yourself!"

His voice was sharp but his eyes were panicked.

Leverage. Interesting.

"Are you stupid or something?"

Oh, sweetheart. Don't open that door—you won't like what's behind it.

"I didn't say you would," I rolled my eyes. "I didn't even ask."

"Good!" He practically barked it. "Whatever it is you feel toward me isn't real. If you know what's good for you, you'll disappear from this territory before I decide you're more trouble than you're worth!"

The words stung. Irritating. Why? No clue. Probably wolf hormones being dramatic.

"Just say what you mean bluntly," I sighed. "I'm not good at subtleties."

"I'm tired of seeing a dirty rag like you haunting the forest! You don't belong here!"

My wolf growled. My chest tightened.

Still, I caged her in steel.

"Don't worry, you won't see me again," I said. Avoiding people was my Olympic sport.

I turned. I should've kept walking. Should've ignored him. But no, the idiot decided to keep going.

"WE. ARE. NOT. MATES." He emphasized each word like he was teaching me how to read. "And we will never be. I would never accept someone who is weak, pathetic, and fat like you. What makes you think I will accept you and make you mine? Are you crazy? Oh wait—I know. You want me to accept you so you can take your place as Alpha Female, right? So people will start respecting you? You want power, am I right?"

My goddess.

He was still talking.

"You don't want to make an enemy out of me. I don't care about—"

"Well you are insane if you ever think I will accept you, and even more insane if you think I would love someone as ugly as you! Let's make this clear—you will never tell anyone. If you do, you won't be the only one punished- your backers will too! Don't talk to me, don't approach me, don't—if someone knew about this, I won't hesitate to kill you myself!"

He finally paused long enough to breathe.

I didn't even bother answering. He wasn't listening anyway.

I turned and walked.

"Where are you going? I'm not done talking!"

I held up one finger.

The middle one.

Then I phased mid-step, fur bursting through skin, bones shifting cleanly. My wolf took over with a vicious snarl of relief, and we launched into the night, leaving Dante's panic, ego, and empty threats behind us in the trees.

Good luck catching me, fuck-boy.