My Lycan

CHAPTER ONE

Charlotte’s POV

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They say only nobles and high-ranking wolves can set foot in the Lycan King’s palace. Honestly, I still don’t get how someone like me, a low-born Alpha’s daughter, ended up marrying him.

My name is Charlotte Ashford… and somehow, I’m actually on my way to the wedding of the Lycan King. Yeah, that wedding—the one the whole kingdom can't stop talking about for months.

For someone like me, this is a huge deal. I mean, my family’s from one of the lowest-ranking packs out there. People like us don’t exactly get royal invites unless we’re working for them.

We’re not omegas, but when it comes to status and wealth, we’re far from important. In a kingdom where power means everything, my pack barely gets noticed.

Our carriage stopped in front of the wedding hall entrance, and I stood outside staring at how tall and cold the palace of Avernia was. It was even more beautiful than I ever pictured. 

Growing up, my dad used to tell me and my sisters all kinds of stories about the palace. That it was this faraway place only meant for royalty. 

So standing here now… it feels surreal. I’d never been anywhere this important, and honestly—it was making me nervous. 

I couldn't help but notice how crowded the venue was as I entered the wedding hall. Wolves from all over, different packs, different ranks, filled every corner.

There were yet more coming in, getting out of those elegant carriages, I usually only see, when they pass me on my way to the marketplace and some arriving by foot.

Their clothes? Perfect. Rich materials, perfectly tailored, everything shouted wealth and influence. It was written all over them. We felt out of place almost immediately. 

Our dresses weren’t bad—not at all. I’d spent days working on them, stitching and adjusting every seam so we’d at least look presentable. And honestly, we did.

However, it was clear that we weren't from their world. Not when we were standing there, surrounded by people dripping in jewels, and dressed in gowns that probably cost more than everything we wore combined. 

Still, I didn’t want my sisters to feel that sting. So I gave their hands a gentle squeeze and forced a small smile, pretending everything was fine, even though my stomach was twisting inside me.

“We look perfect,” I said gently. “Let’s enjoy ourselves, okay?”

“Okay,” Hazel and Mia echoed, nodding softly.

We weren’t from any powerful pack, not even close. And yeah, our clothes weren’t designer or anything. But still… It felt good to just be here. To soak it all in for once.

The hall was loud in that fancy kind of way, laughter floating up over soft music I didn’t recognize and glasses kept clinking. 

The servers moved like they were dancing, carrying trays of shiny drinks. The air smelled sharp and sweet too, definitely alcohol. 

I kept telling myself, don’t stare too much, don’t act weird, just blend in. Like that was even possible. My father, Alpha Silas, walked a little ahead of us, his back straight with pride. 

Now and then, he’d pause to greet another Alpha or nod at someone from a friendly pack, names I couldn’t always keep up with. Beside him, my mother moved like she always did, calm, graceful, unreadable. 

And my sister and I just followed behind them. Bowing every time, with a smile on our faces, when my parents stopped to greet anyone. 

The room was packed, honestly. So many people, so many scents mixing, rich perfume, sweat, and wine, it was almost too much. I had to remind myself to breathe through my mouth.

Then my father slowed down. His eyes locked onto someone across the room, and a grin pulled at his face. Alpha Elliott. An old friend. I recognized him from a few visits long ago. He was louder than most and always smelled like cigarettes. My father stepped forward to greet him, hand already reaching out. 

“Alpha Silas,” Alpha Elliott said warmly, pulling my father into a quick hug. “It’s been too long.”

Alpha Elliott was a round-bellied man with a loud voice and a sharp tongue. He stood confidently, his family gathered behind him. His eyes moved to the three of us standing behind my parents.

“These must be your daughters,” Alpha Elliot said, his grin stretching lazily as his eyes slowly scanned over us, lingering far longer than necessary. “No wonder you didn’t try for a son. With daughters like these around, I wouldn’t either.”

He laughed, but… I don’t know. There was something in the way he said it. Like it wasn’t just a joke, like there was something underneath it I wasn’t supposed to catch, but did anyway.

Standing beside him, his Beta gave this smug little smirk and said, “They’ll make fine wives someday. The kind of wives who don’t need to say much to keep a man satisfied.”

My stomach twisted, but I forced a smile anyway. This wasn’t the time or place to say something. And honestly… What good would it even do? Men like that never saw girls like us as anything more than ornaments, pretty things meant to be seen, and played with.

I felt Hazel go stiff beside me. Mia dropped her gaze, her lips pressed into a tight line. We’d heard comments like that before, too many times, actually—but somehow, they always found new ways to sting.

Their laughter followed, loud and thoughtless, like they didn’t even realize we were real people standing there. 

My father didn’t reply to what they said, he just gave them a polite smile and excused us from their gathering, and we kept walking toward our table, the one marked for the Moonstone Pack.

Our table was arranged in a fancy way, filled with refreshments and snacks. We’d barely started settling in when Mia reached for her glass a little too fast, her hand trembled just slightly, and the drink spilled straight across my dress.

“Oh no—Charlotte, I’m so sorry,” Mia gasped, already reaching for a napkin.

“It’s fine,” I said quickly. My stomach had already sunk, but I didn’t want to make a scene. I started dabbing at the stain, trying to act like it was no big deal, even though the dress was one of the few things I was proud of. But she was my adorable sister. I cannot be angry at her. 

“I’ll… I’ll go clean it up,” I mumbled, pushing my chair back. I stood up and headed to the washroom.

A server passed by near the entrance, and I flagged him down, trying to keep my voice steady. “Excuse me… could you tell me where the restroom is?”

He gave a small nod and gestured for me to follow. We passed a few large doors before stopping in front of a restroom.

“Here you go, miss,” he said with a small bow, then stepped aside.

I gave him a quick nod of thanks and walked into the room. It was just as stunning as the rest of the palace. A few girls were already inside, scattered in front of the mirrors, fixing their makeup, fluffing their hair. 

Some of them looked my way. Just a glance. Curious maybe and a little cold, but no one said anything.

I kept my head down, focused on cleaning the stain with a bit of water and a paper towel. It didn’t do much, but it looked better than before. Then I turned toward the door and exited the room.

As I stepped back into the hallway, I froze. I didn't know which way to go, as the hallway stretched long in both directions. No one was around and the attendant who brought me here was gone.

I became a little scared. I hadn’t paid attention to which turns we took. And now… I had no idea how to get back to the wedding hall.

What if I wandered somewhere off-limits? Or worse, ran into someone important? 

I looked around, hoping to catch sight of anyone who could help me, but it was empty. I considered going back into the restroom to ask one of the girls for directions, but then I remembered their stares that were filled with judgment. No—I couldn’t do that again.

I’d figure it out on my own. I had to. I took a slow breath, smoothed my dress even though it didn’t need smoothing, and picked a direction, hoping it was right.

But just as I turned, I felt someone push me.