The Awaited Lycan Queen

**PROLOGUE**

Twelve years ago, they were only children.

Now, they were strangers… with the same scars.

Aliyah hadn’t expected to see him again, especially not like this.

Leo stood in front of her, eyes fierce, shoulders tense, as if he were fighting a war inside himself. So much time had passed, yet the way he looked at her… it still burned.

“I need to ask you something,” he said, voice low, almost hoarse. “Did you forget me that easily?”

Her name on his lips still sounded like a prayer. Dara. Her old name. The one he used when she was his best friend, his secret keeper, his everything.

She opened her mouth but there were no words strong enough to explain what she’d been through. How could she speak of heartbreak to the boy who became a man in her absence?

His steps were slow but sure as he crossed the room. Every inch closer sent her heartbeat racing. When he finally stood in front of her, they were only inches apart, and the scent of him — earth and smoke — wrapped around her like a memory.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” he whispered.

She swallowed. “You let me walk away. You never came after me.”

“I never stopped looking,” he said. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

His hand came up, hesitated, then brushed gently against her cheek. Aliyah trembled. His touch was warm, tender, like he still remembered every curve of her face. And when she didn’t pull away, his arms circled her waist, pulling her in.

She melted into him.

For the first time in years, she felt… safe.

He held her tightly, forehead pressed to hers, breath mingling with hers. “Tell me you don’t feel this,” he said softly. “Tell me you don’t still want me and I’ll leave.”

But she couldn’t.

Instead, she closed the distance between them, lifting her chin and kissed him.

It started soft. A brush of lips and breath. But then years of silence shattered, and something wild unfurled between them. His hands tangled in her hair, hers gripped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as if distance had been the true enemy all along.

He kissed her like he was trying to memorize her all over again.

She kissed him like she never wanted to forget.

When they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, he rested his forehead against hers again, whispering, “I still love you.”

Tears welled in her eyes.

So did questions.

So did doubt.

Because love alone was never what broke them.

But in his arms, she forgot the pain… just for a little while.

*****

**Twelve years earlier**

**CHAPTER 1**

“Run, Aliyah. Don’t look back.”

Those were her father’s final words, urgent and full of despair.

Aliyah’s small legs shook beneath her, but she listened. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she ran. Her heart pounded and her lungs burned, but she never glanced behind her. The crackling of flames devouring her home and the feral growls of warring wolves were all the reminders she needed of the horror she fled.

The forest was dark and thick. Branches scratched her and roots caught her feet, but she kept going. Smoke stung her eyes and throat.

Behind her, chaos raged. Snarls, howls, and cries of agony echoed through the burning night.

Her pack, the Light Star, was falling apart. She knew it the moment she saw her father, brutally wounded and now the weakest among them, make his final stand. He didn’t have the strength to win, but he had the courage to give her a chance. A chance to escape. A chance to live.

Somewhere deep inside, she already knew he was gone.

In that moment, memories of her mother flooded in. She wished her mother was still alive. The other wolves had feared her, though Aliyah never understood why. She had been too young to know. All she knew was that her mother had been brave. She had always protected the pack. But after her death from an illness, the attacks never stopped. One by one, they kept losing members, until this final attack, which left only Aliyah alive.

Then came the pain.

A thunderous impact struck the side of her head. The world spun violently. Her legs gave out and the ground slammed into her.

Everything faded.

The land was choked with smoke. The once-living forest had become a silent grave, disturbed only by the sound of wind and footsteps on scorched earth.

Ruidiger, Alpha of the Blood Crescent Pack, stood tall among the devastation. His cloak, lined with fur, was soaked in the blood of his enemies. His eyes scanned the battlefield with icy detachment.

The Light Star Pack had fallen. Victory belonged to them.

“Alpha, the spoils have been collected. We’re ready to leave,” one of his warriors said with quiet respect.

Ruidiger gave a brief nod. “Good.”

The injured were loaded into vehicles. The bodies of the fallen were stacked carefully, to be buried as heroes when they returned.

As Ruidiger moved toward his vehicle, a sound stopped him.

A whimper.

Faint. Almost lost in the wind. But it pierced the silence like a scream.

“Is something wrong, Alpha?” asked Bayle, his Beta, stepping up beside him.

Ruidiger said nothing. He turned toward the sound, his boots crunching through broken branches and scorched remains. The scent of blood and smoke clung thick in the air.

Then he saw her.

A small girl lay on the forest floor, barely moving. Her arms and legs twitched, and her head turned slowly. She was covered in blood and cuts, her pale skin and dark hair dirty with ash and soil.

Bayle frowned. “A survivor? Let me finish her. The Light Star deserves no mercy.”

Ruidiger lifted a hand.

“No. She’s part of the spoils now.”

Bayle hesitated. “She’s only a pup.”

“Then she’ll be raised as one of us.”

Without another word, Bayle picked up the unconscious girl, her body limp in his arms. With no particular care, he placed her in the truck among the fallen.

She likely wouldn’t survive the trip anyway.

---

Three days passed.

When the warriors returned, the gates of the Blood Crescent Pack opened in celebration. Pack members poured out to welcome them. Cheers rang through the air. Banners waved high. Music echoed as families reunited.

Luna Rosetta ran into Ruidiger’s embrace, her children holding tight to his sides. She looked up at him, glowing with relief.

“This calls for celebration, my love,” she whispered, kissing his cheek.

Ruidiger offered a faint smile. “Yes, my queen. But first, we bury the fallen.”

He ruffled the hair of his youngest son, Leo, who gazed up at him with admiration.

“One day, you’ll understand why we fight,” Ruidiger said softly.

“I’ll return even more victorious than you, Father,” Leo replied with a proud grin.

Laughter spread among the crowd.

But it faded as Ruidiger’s voice turned solemn. “Unload the bodies.”

Bayle lowered his head. The weight of loss was heavy. Too many lives had been lost for this victory.

One by one, the bodies were removed from the truck. Grief erupted. Mothers collapsed in tears. Partners cried. Children clung to what remained.

Bayle reached for another body but froze.

It was warm.

He checked for a pulse.

A heartbeat. Faint, but real.

“Alpha,” he called, stunned.

Ruidiger stepped closer, the weight of battle still heavy on him. His sharp eyes scanned the bodies until they landed on the one Bayle pointed to.

“What is it?” he asked quietly.

Bayle knelt beside the small form. “She’s alive. After three days. Surrounded by the dead.”

Ruidiger crouched next to the girl and watched her closely. Her chest rose and fell—shallow, uneven. Blood and ash clung to her skin. She looked barely alive.

“She survived,” Bayle murmured. “No food. No water. Nothing but death around her.”

Ruidiger said nothing. He simply observed her, unreadable.

“She’s Light Star,” Bayle said. “We should end it. Mercy would be kinder.”

Ruidiger raised a hand to stop him. “No.”

Bayle looked up, uncertain. “The others won’t understand.”

“She’s a survivor,” Ruidiger replied. “That matters.”

“You want to keep her?”

“She’s ours now.”

Bayle hesitated, then bent to lift the girl. She was lighter than he expected, barely more than skin and bone. Her skin was cold, but her pulse held on.

As they turned toward the camp, nearby warriors paused, their eyes full of doubt. Whispers stirred.

“She was meant to die,” Bayle said under his breath.

“But she didn’t,” Ruidiger answered.

She was the child of a fallen enemy.

But she was still breathing.

And Ruidiger had made his choice.