The Ugly Lycan Queen

Selene's POV

"What do you think will happen if we run away?"

I shake my head at Damien. I know it's his nerves talking, and I’m tired of telling him.

It’s the general meet-your-wolf day. A day when all the recently turned 18 werewolves come to show their wolf. A tradition that was implemented by the Draxmore clan when they took over our clan.

It’s their way of keeping us in check. To tame the strongest wolf before they become an issue later. Not that there are any strong wolves left in the Silverhedge clan or any other wolf clan in the five cities of ShadowCrest anymore.

Not even Alphas.

The roughly 23 clans of the five cities are all ruled by a general Alpha, a Beta, and Gemma, who are nothing but pimps for the Draxmore. They enforce the law as well as the Draxmore clan's induced law, or whatever new thing Alpha Roland is up to.

For the ceremony today, they’ll be seated at the mockery of a high table, praying against or hoping a wolf from their original clan or area of jurisdiction makes it to the Delta force.

One can never tell with the "Hydra Heads," as they are secretly called in all of ShadowCrest. Nor can anyone tell if being in the military is a pro in our favor or not.

My boyfriend actually thinks it isn’t in our favor, as he’s currently pacing the sitting room, making my head spin.

It was the mating ceremony yesterday, and I might have had a little more to drink. We had celebrated Alex being opportuned to bond with Lisa, his girlfriend. Even though I thought Lisa was the worst werewolf he, or anyone, could be mated with.

"Ashur thinks we can," he says, referring to his wolf. "He says we can hide out in the woods for like a week, then fake our deaths."

"And your scent?" I say, rubbing my head. It’s throbbing.

He stops pacing, looking at me like I’m dumb. "I’ve been masking that since forever. If I evade the reveal portion, I could probably not reveal Ashur to everyone today."

I sigh. I understand his worry, but he’s being typical Damien and overthinking every scenario. He thinks that because of his wolf’s size and color, he might be drafted into the Delta army. Which, honestly, I don’t have a problem with, even though there’s nothing special about his big black wolf except his intoxicating sea-blue eyes that somehow feel like they can read your soul.

"Babe, look. You’ll be fine. You show your wolf, you get the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ and the non-dangerous, not-military-worthy pass." I walk to him, let myself into his arms, partially to comfort him and partially to help my spinning head. He holds me, and I melt into the heat of his presence. "You’ll be fine. Moreover, it’s a shame a beautiful wolf like Ashur can’t run free beneath the moon."

He holds me tighter, nuzzling and sniffing me. I grin. He’s sniffing for my wolf. He has this weird theory that our wolves live in our heads, so if you sniff hard and right, you can catch the smell of an un-emerged wolf.

"I think I smell your wolf; she’s close to the surface. I can’t wait to meet her. Ashur too."

I pull out of his embrace to look at his eyes. You can tell when he’s being silly or lying by the squints and twitches his eyes make. There’s no twitch or squint. He’s telling the truth.

"Ashur?" I smile. It always makes me smile when he says Ashur likes me. It’s a rare thing these days for wolves to like their human’s mate. Not to talk of their wolves.

"Yes. He..."

The horn sounds, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. He takes a deep breath, his anxiety resurfacing. I hold his shirt and pull him to me for a kiss. He’s startled at first, I don’t usually initiate kisses. He recovers quickly and takes charge of the kiss, sliding his tongue into my mouth. Demanding, pleading, then taking.

He kisses me in a way he hasn’t before. He brings his hand to my neck, pulling me closer. Claiming me.

The horn sounds again. The first warning sound for latecomers. Late wolves are usually punished, rumor says, in wolf form. But he doesn’t stop, he just slows down. From claiming to savoring. He kisses my jaw, then my neck, my shoulder blade.

Usually, I stop him, but tonight I know he needs it. I also know he knows how far he can stretch before he stops.

The second warning sounds. He pauses with his lips on my nape. He licks my nape.

"I can’t wait to bond with your wolf."

He arranges my hair. His eyes gleam like a warrior with a trophy. He kisses me again, this time quickly. He picks up his car keys, and we both leave the house.

He opens the car door for me as I sit. The horn sounds, the final warning. He looks at me as a wolf runs past. And another.

"Ashur will get you there in time," I say.

He looks concerned, torn. "You can’t drive."

I almost laugh. He sounds frustrated at the fact that I can’t drive. Well, I don’t blame him, he’s been trying to teach me since we officially started dating a year ago.

It isn’t my fault. He hadn’t owned a car until last month and had to keep teaching me how to drive the particular car he borrowed. As Lycans would do anything but fix their car to run as it was designed to run.

"I’ll walk."

He starts to say something, but I don’t let him. "I’m not the one who will face punishment."

He sighs, gives me a quick peck, then lets Ashur take over. Ashur looks briefly at me and throws me a nod, maybe his own idea of "hello" to me. Then he sprints off.

I can’t wait to meet my wolf, so I can hear Ashur and finally mate with the love of my life, Damien Throne.