The Lycan King Stolen Heirs

Irina

"You look absolutely pathetic, Irina."

The voice drips with venom. I slowly turn away from the cracked mirror, my heart sinking into my stomach. My stepsister stands in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. Stephanie is draped in a stunning red silk gown that hugs every curve of her body perfectly. Beside her stands Elise, my stepmother, looking equally pristine and wearing a scowl that deepens the wrinkles around her mouth.

"I am just trying to make myself presentable for the Mating Gala," I say. My voice is quiet, barely a whisper. I smooth down the worn fabric of my faded blue dress, trying to hide the fraying hem.

"Presentable?" Stephanie lets out a harsh laugh that echoes in the small, cramped space. She steps into my tiny, drafty attic room. 

"You look like a beggar who wandered in from the rogue lands. It is an insult to our family name that you are even allowed to attend."

"She is right, Irina," Elise adds coldly. She doesn't even look at me. She stares at the dust on my floor. 

"Your very existence is a stain on this household. My husband took you in out of obligation when your omega mother died. You have no pureblood grace. You have not even shifted yet, and you are twenty. You are a weak, defective runt."

I swallow the hard lump forming in my throat. The words hurt because they are true in the eyes of the pack. The Blackwood Pack values strength and pure lineage above all else. I am the bastard child of a fleeting romance with a low-ranking omega. I bring them nothing but whispered mockery from the highborn families.

"I will stay in the back," I whisper, staring at my worn shoes. "I will not embarrass you."

"You embarrass me just by breathing," Stephanie sneers. She walks up to me and grabs my chin tightly. Her nails dig into my skin. 

"Do not think for one second that the Alpha Heir pities you. Xander only speaks to you because he feels sorry for the omega trash living under our roof. You will never find a mate tonight. The Moon Goddess does not bless defects."

Stephanie shoves me back. I stumble against the wooden vanity, the mirror rattling behind me.

"Come along, Stephanie," Elise orders. "We have pureblood lineages to secure. Let the omega wallow in her own filth."

They turn and walk down the stairs, leaving a heavy, suffocating silence in their wake. I close my eyes and a single tear escapes. I hate crying. I hate giving them the satisfaction of knowing they broke me.

"Hello? Is anyone decent in this depressing attic?"

Lola bursts into the room.

She is wearing a gorgeous dark green dress that contrasts with her bright blonde hair. Lola stops in her tracks when she sees me wiping my eyes.

Elise appears in the hallway behind Lola, her nose turned up in disgust.

Lola immediately lowers her head and bared her neck slightly. "Greetings, Luna Elise. May the Moon guide your path tonight."

Elise gives a loud, dismissive huff and walks away without acknowledging the traditional wolf greeting.

"What an absolute delight of a woman," Lola mutters as soon as she is sure my stepmother is out of earshot. She rushes over to me and grabs my hands. 

"Do not listen to a single word those harpies say. You look beautiful in that blue dress. It brings out the color of your eyes."

"It is three years old, Lola. Stephanie is right. I am just going to be laughed at."

"Nobody is going to laugh," Lola insists. She pulls me toward the door, ignoring my protests. "Tonight is the Mating Gala. Anything can happen. Besides, I saw Xander down in the courtyard earlier. He looked absolutely astonishing. He asked if you were coming."

I feel a sudden rush of heat flood my cheeks. I look down at the wooden floorboards, my heart fluttering against my ribs. "He asked about me?"

"Of course he did," Lola teases, nudging my shoulder. "He has a soft spot for you. Now let us go before all the good champagne is taken."

Lola doesn't give me a chance to argue. She drags me down the stairs and into the grand ballroom. The main packhouse hall is deafening. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm golden light over hundreds of wolves. The air is thick with a hundred different scents, anticipation, and the heavy musk of dominant alphas asserting their presence. I stick to the shadowy edges of the room, exactly as I promised my stepmother. Lola is pulled away onto the dance floor by a young warrior almost immediately, leaving me to blend into the wallpaper.

I pick up a glass of water from a passing tray. I watch the rich, powerful members of the pack mingle, feeling like an outsider in my own skin.

"You look like you would rather be anywhere else in the world."

The voice is deep, unfamiliar, and laced with a dangerous edge. I stiffen. I turn slowly.

A man stands beside me. He is not from the Blackwood Pack. I recognize the deep burgundy crest pinned to his lapel. The Crimson Shadow Pack. They are a rival pack, invited only under a fragile peace treaty.

The man is tall, heavily muscled, and covered in dark, intricate tattoos that creep up his neck and disappear under his jawline. His eyes are a piercing, icy gray, and his mouth is curved into a wicked, arrogant smirk.

"I am just enjoying the music," I say softly. I take a step back. His aura is overwhelmingly dark and aggressive.

"Baxter," the man says. He does not offer his hand. He just stares at me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. "And you are the most beautiful girl in this room. Why are you hiding in the dark?"

"I am not hiding."

Baxter takes a step closer. The scent of pine and raw power rolls off him in waves. "You are terrified. I can smell your fear. It is sweet. A delicate little thing like you should not be surrounded by these arrogant Blackwood wolves. You need a real man to protect you."

"She does not need anything from you."

I gasp. I look past Baxter.

Xander stands there. The Alpha Heir. He is breathtakingly cruel in his beauty. He wears an all-black suit that clings to his broad shoulders. The sleeves are rolled up, revealing the heavy black ink of his Alpha lineage tattoos covering his forearms. His jaw is clenched so tight the muscles tick. His dark eyes are fixed on Baxter with murderous intent.

"Back off, Baxter," Xander commands. His voice is laced with the Alpha command. It makes my knees weak and my breath hitch.

Baxter chuckles softly. He raises his hands in mock surrender. "Just making conversation, Xander. No need to get territorial over a stray."

Baxter gives me one last, lingering look before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

I look at Xander. My heart is hammering violently against my ribs. He is glaring at the spot where Baxter stood, his chest heaving. Then, he slowly turns his gaze to me.

The moment his dark eyes lock onto mine, the world stops spinning.

A sharp, electric shock rips through my chest. The air in the grand hall is instantly sucked out. The scent of rain, dark cedar, and wild mint hits me so hard I physically stumble backward. My inner wolf, dormant for twenty years, claws furiously at my ribs. She howls a single, undeniable word.

Mate.

The bond snaps into place with a violent, agonizing pull. It is not a gentle realization. It is a brutal, consuming tether that ties my soul directly to his.

Xander freezes. His eyes widen slightly. The harsh lines of his face slacken in pure shock.

The music seems to fade away. The conversations around us die down. Wolves have excellent hearing and an even better sense of smell. They feel the shift in the atmosphere. They can smell the sudden, intoxicating spike of mating pheromones radiating from the Heir and the outcast.

"No," a voice shrieks from the crowd.

Stephanie pushes her way to the front. Her face is twisted in absolute horror and rage. "No! This is a mistake. She is a defect. She is an omega tramp."

Xander looks at me.

The shock in his eyes vanishes, replaced by a dark, possessive hunger that terrifies me.

He closes the distance between us in two long strides.

"Xander," I whisper. My whole body is trembling.

"Mine," he growls.

He grabs my waist with massive, rough hands and yanks me flush against his hard chest. I gasp as the heat of his body sears through my thin dress. He tilts my head to the side, exposing my neck.

"Xander, wait," Elise yells from the crowd. "She is not worthy of the Alpha bloodline."

Xander ignores everyone. He buries his face in my neck, inhaling deeply.

"You smell like mine," he murmurs against my skin. His voice is a harsh rasp.

"You have always been mine. And tonight, I am taking what belongs to me."

Before I can process his words, Xander’s canines elongate. He sinks his teeth brutally into the soft flesh where my shoulder meets my neck.

I scream. The pain is blinding, white hot, and consuming, but it is quickly followed by an overwhelming rush of pure pleasure. The mating mark burns into my skin, permanently branding me as the property of the Alpha Heir in front of the entire pack.

He pulls away, his lips stained with a single drop of my blood. He looks down at me, his eyes entirely black. He does not wait for me to speak. He does not care about the gasps echoing in the hall.

He scoops me into his arms, carrying me easily against his chest, and begins walking toward the grand staircase.

"Put me down," I gasp, clutching his lapels as the room spins.

"Shut up," he orders. His tone is utterly cold. 

"You are coming to my room. You are going to do exactly what I tell you tonight."

He kicks open the heavy oak doors of the Alpha wing. As he carries me down the dark, silent corridor toward his bedroom, I stare at the rigid line of his jaw. The mate bond hums with violent intensity, tying me to a man who has just claimed my body, but the chilling emptiness in his eyes tells me a terrifying truth.

He has marked me as his possession. The heavy wooden door slams shut behind us, the lock clicking into place, sealing me inside a cage of desires.