Todos os capítulos de The Suppressed Lycan Queen : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

A furious growl escapes Thatcher's mouth. He storms out of the ruined study room, desperate to go after Bella, only to run face-first into the solid wall of Garrick's 6'4" frame."I'm going to destroy him," Thatcher snarls, his eyes bloodshot with rage and humiliation.At this, Garrick lets out a dark, mocking laugh, not even shifting his stance to accommodate the angry wolf. "Good luck with that. You were just wrecked by his pack's Gamma bloodline, but sure, go ahead and challenge my Alpha or Beta. They'll rip your throat out before you even see it coming."Garrick leans down, his massive shadow completely swallowing Thatcher. "You’re a Gamma, Thatcher. Act like it. Right now, you just look like a pup who got bit by the lead bitch. Better yet, if you’re that desperate for a fight, challenge someone your own rank, Belladonna. She'll humiliate you sexually, then rip out your throat just for the fun of it."Garrick taps Thatcher’s chest hard enough to make him stumble back a step. "Now,

Valerius's Perspective a little bit earlierThe air in the basement of the University Archives is stagnant, tasting of forgotten paper, silverfish, and the slow, heavy rot of leather bindings. It is the kind of silence that feels physical, like it’s pressing against my eardrums, demanding I leave the past where it belongs. I pull the 1996 yearbook from the dusty shelf, the weight of it surprising me. It feels like I’m holding a tombstone rather than a record of students and social clubs.The spine creaks, a sharp, violent sound that echoes through the empty stacks. I flinch instinctively, my wolf pacing restlessly behind my ribs. My gut is telling me that the "why" behind June Ashmourne is going to be a nightmare we aren't prepared to wake up from.I flip to the ‘P’ section. Pharmacy. It’s a small department, filled with the faces of overachievers and legacy students. I find him almost immediately."There you are," I whisper, the words barely a breath in the gloom. Draven Ashmourne.E

Fenris's PerspectiveIt is the longest twenty minutes of my life. I go over the memory of June’s scent in my head, analyzing every note. I didn’t recognize a pack scent on her yesterday, but that makes complete sense now if I’ve never smelled a Royal Bloodline. But the sweetness of the vanilla... it’s intoxicating. It sits like a physical weight in my lungs. Does that mean she’s my mate?Damian whines piteously in my mind. The thought that our mate and her wolf have been chemically suppressed, their heart rate artificially slowed by neurotoxins for over a decade, makes my vision swim with red.The heavy oak door opens, and my father, Alpha Orion Dawnstar, walks in. We all immediately stand and bow our heads in submission and respect. He is a massive, commanding presence, 6’6” of solid muscle. His blonde hair turned salt-and-pepper years ago, but his icy blue eyes are as sharp and unforgiving as a winter sky. I quickly vacate my chair; his station requires the seat of power in any room

Fenris's PerspectiveMy mind is still reeling from the meeting in my father's office. The realization that June, might be the last surviving Royal Lycan, is a truth so heavy it feels like it could crush the foundation of our world. But a quick glance at the clock on the wall forces me to shelf the political gravity for a moment; I realize I am going to be late for pole vaulting practice.​Unlike sprinting or long-distance running, which are relatively mindless endeavors for a shifter, pole vaulting requires absolute precision. Just because I'm naturally faster and stronger than a human doesn't necessarily mean that raw power will automatically translate into a higher clearance over the bar. That technical challenge is exactly why I enjoy the sport so much. It is pure physics, translating horizontal sprinting speed into a perfectly timed jump, converting that kinetic energy into a spring-like force that launches you vertically into the air.​It is also fascinating that, historically, t

June’s PerspectiveWhy would he take my printout? Better yet, why would he wipe the data? The questions loop endlessly in my mind as I walk to the dining hall.The evening air feels different tonight, sharper, more vibrant. As I step inside the cafeteria, the noise hits me like a physical wave. The clatter of cheap silverware against ceramic plates, the hum of fluorescent lights, the overlapping chatter of a hundred students, it’s all turned up to an agonizing volume. I grab a quick dinner and retreat to a table in the far corner, tucked away from the chaos.Despite the sensory overload, I feel... lighter. It’s the same feeling I had yesterday, a thrumming, restless hum of energy in my blood that makes my baggy gray hoodie feel restrictive against my skin. I find myself tapping my foot, my muscles twitching with a sudden, desperate urge to run.I head back to my dorm and lock the door behind me. I sit on the edge of my bed and stare at the orange bottle on my nightstand. The little wh