06

Chapter 6

Lucien’s POV

Being the bastard son of the Lycan King meant I was born with power but no legitimate claim—unless I seized it with my own blood, grit, and will. I fought for every ounce of respect in the Crimson Fang Pack to be where I am today. I've had my fair share of humiliation from the bloodline I descended from and even from people that are beneath me. I endured it all. 

I didn’t inherit the crown— It was never mine to begin with—I ripped it from the brutal grip of tradition and forced those conceited Elders to kneel. To bow before a bastard. I can still see the way they want to flank their authority upon me but I will never let them. I was king now and many responsibilities followed. Some are expedient while others are trivial.

One of them was finding a Queen—my mate. The one woman fate had created just for me. I made it a habit to visit packs when we were getting closer to the full moon to see if I would perhaps meet her but my visits have been nothing but futile. 

And yet, as the years passed, slowly, I began to accept a bitter truth: I might never find her. Maybe I was cursed like my mother, who had died without ever knowing the bond of a mate, a rumored whore who had bedded the king for personal gain since his own wife could only give him girls. In the past, long before I became king, I have heard of the joy between mates and in this dark life of mine, I longed for it bitterly so much that it hurts. Maybe she is somewhere out there, already married with kids.

 My beast growled angrily at the thought, hot jealousy whipping through me. I let out a string of curse words as I reached forward to hold the rail for support. 

For the sake of the pack, I agreed to an alliance after being pestered by the council of Elders. Heather—daughter of the previous Beta. She was everything they wanted in a Luna: bred for politics, graceful, obedient. Her father pruned her so well that she ticked every box of what it takes to be the Lycan Queen.

Everything but mine.

So when the invitation came to attend Alpha Damien’s wedding, I accepted out of obligation. Samantha’s father had once been a friend of my father’s. In fact, she was almost betrothed to me but I had refused the proposal. The court needed my presence. The alliance needed my face.

What I didn’t expect… was her.

She was standing on the far side of the ballroom, wrapped in defiance and pain as she knelt on the floor. Her baby blue eyes—clear as ice over a frozen lake—met mine, and something ancient roared inside me. Her scent… vanilla and lavender. Sweet, haunting, unforgettable. My beast, usually uninterested in court affairs, surged to the surface so violently I had to clench my fists to stay in control.

Who the hell is this lady?

When Samantha—the Luna—ordered her guards to strip the girl in front of the whole pack, I didn’t think. 

“ENOUGH!” I roared, shocked to the core by my own outburst but at the same time, I will not stand someone bullying another in my presence. 

The hall went eerily quiet until Samantha interrupted and proceeded to fix what she had caused intentionally even if she thinks I didn’t know that. Just then the lady on the floor grabbed her and Samantha began to scramble around, flailing her hands like a captured bird in the work of the ball gown. I almost broke into an amused smile, at least, this lady got the guts.

 As she arose, she looked every bit of beauty. Then a strap of her dress moved to fall, I growled underneath my breath. No one would see what is mine.

I took two quick strides and caught it before it fell. I touched her.

And sparks exploded. 

“Mate,” My beast growled in primal possession. He moved to the surface but I was quick to shove him down, not wanting to scare her.

I felt it. The tethering connection between us, like a glowing thread. The mate bond, undeniable and real.

But… she didn’t. She stared at me, startled—but with no recognition in her gaze. No answering heat. Just confusion.

Why? Why didn’t she feel what I felt?

It haunted me as I led her away. As I locked the guest suite behind us. As I offered her warmth and silence. She was trembling—humiliated, furious, but proud. Still, when our hands brushed again, she paused.

The tension turned to something hotter.

One look. One kiss and I couldn’t hold myself back even as the alarms in my head were blaring loudly in my head but just this taste has me intoxicated and I wanted more. More, and she opened up to me. My beast took that as an invitation. And the rest unraveled like it had been waiting to happen all along.

The moment we made love, my beast tore through my restraint. I knew every law guiding mating and marking. Even if I am the king that wasn’t wanted on the throne, I made sure I read every law concerning the kingdom. Marking should only be done when the other party agrees but my beast, being hard to tame and not caring for any bit of freaking law, took charge. I didn’t mean to mark her—not then—but my canines found her neck, I tried to stop him but the urge was stronger with the mix of her scent and arousal. Her little gasps, her body writhing beneath mine, the raw instinct to claim, I knew I was fighting a lost battle, I sank them into the soft spot behind her as if guided by fate itself.

Relief settled within me as realization dawned on me. She was mine. And I’d made sure the world would know it.

But then, the next morning when I had planned to let her know we were mates, Marco called me in the earliest part of the morning.

Rogue movement near our border. Again. 

Marco, my Beta, sounded grim. “Coordinated. Multiple flanks. We suspect an organized strike.”

I had no choice.

I stood over her sleeping body for a long time, memorizing every curve, every breath. Then I wrote a note.

You are mine. I will come back for you. — L.

I placed it on the table beside the bed and kissed her forehead.

And I left.

The battle took four days. It was worse than expected. Not just rogue scum, but trained fighters. Someone was testing our strength— My authority. My leadership. We held the line, but we bled for it.

And the second it ended, I turned to Marco the moment he stepped into my room. I knew he wanted to give some reports which would further delay me so I didn’t let him speak.

“We’re going back to Silvermist pack. I have unfinished business there,” I said. 

He looked shocked. “I thought you didn't consider Samantha the –”

‘I am not going back for her but someone else. Besides, she is the Luna now. That is not possible anymore.” I cut him off, adjusting my shirt.

 “But the Elders said they wanted to –”

I glared daggers at him, ignoring what he said about the Elders. “Now.”

He didn’t argue. He knew better. “Yes, Your Highness.”

We reached Alpha Damien’s pack by dusk the next day. I didn’t waste time with greetings or protocol. I stormed into the pack house. 

Samantha looked excited to me. “Oh! Lucien, I didn’t know you would be coming. I would have –”

“Where is she?” I demanded, ignoring her.

Samantha froze, her face paling. “Who?”

“Your Royal Highness,” Alpha Damien appeared just behind his Luna.

“The lady you had stripped the last time I was here during your Luna ceremony,” I growled. “Where is she?” I demanded. 

Damien stepped forward, arms folded, his eyes calculating and weary. “Why do you care about a kitchen maid, Your Highness? You can have another one who happens to be my younger sister and—”

I snarled. “She’s not just a maid. Call her that again and you will never be able to speak again for the rest of your miserable life.”

Gasps filled the room. Samantha went rigid.

“You… what?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“I want her.” My voice was ice. “Now tell me where she is.”

Samantha stammered, “She… she insulted me. Damien put her in the cells—”

I didn’t let her finish.

I turned on my heel and bolted for the dungeons, Marco behind me. The air grew colder with each step as fury coiled tighter in my chest. My beast paced beneath my skin, livid.

I reached her cell.

The door was wide open.

Blood smeared the floor—just a few streaks, dried and old. The chain in the corner was broken. The tattered blanket was discarded.

But no sign of her. No sign of my mate!

I stepped inside slowly, rage burning hotter than fire in my veins.

Gone.

She was gone.

My chest heaved. I roared, the sound shaking the stone walls, a guttural cry of loss and fury and helplessness.

Samantha would pay. Damien would pay. I turned to him. “You are going to regret this,” My threat was laced with venom. I saw the strings of terror cross the Alpha’s face.

But first—I had to find her.

Because no one touches what’s mine.

Not without consequence.