All Chapters of The Suppressed Lycan Queen : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

June's PerspectiveI wake up with a violent jolt, my skin humming with a low-voltage electricity. There’s a lingering, heavy warmth between my thighs and a phantom weight pressing me into the mattress, the ghost of a dream I can’t quite shake.I chuckle to myself, a raspy, unfamiliar sound in the quiet dorm room. Despite the lingering haze of the dream, I feel strangely, impossibly energized. I throw off the covers, stretching my arms above my head, and my joints give a satisfying, deep pop. My bones feel heavy, carrying a dull, stretching ache like I’ve just run a marathon.I walk to my dresser and reach for the new bra I bought from Leila just two days ago. I hook it on the loosest setting, but it’s tight. Actually tight. I step in front of the full-length mirror on my closet door, and my breath hitches in my throat. My chest is overfilling the lace cups that I struggled to fill just yesterday. My ribs look wider, my shoulders more defined. My body is changing at a rate that complet

Fenris's Perspective"Valerius," I growl out loud, the sound rumbling from deep within my chest, completely uncaring of who in the gym hears me. "If he touched her, I’ll end him."We sprint back to the ΦΟΜ house, our pace instantly blurring past human capability. We are a force of nature tearing across the waking campus. We burst through the front door, the heavy oak swinging back and hitting the wall with a deafening crack.The scent in the foyer hits me like a physical blow. It’s unmistakable. It’s her. The sweet aroma of vanilla and peaches is there, but it’s entirely different now. It’s sharper, heavier, laced with the bitter, metallic tang of pure fear and a strange, ozone-heavy electricity.Damian is pacing frantically against the inside of my ribs, his claws tearing at my restraint. Mate. Mate is scared. Mate! he whines over and over again, a relentless loop of panic.Valerius is standing in the middle of the sitt

Fenris's PerspectiveThen she moves to the weights.I watch her grip the Olympic bar. It isn't easy for her yet, her muscles are still actively density-shifting, her bones elongating, but she absolutely refuses to quit. She is so damn stubborn. She pushes through the violent burn of her own rapid evolution until I hear it. The distinct, incredibly satisfying sound of cheap fabric tearing. The sharp skree of her hoodie's shoulder seam finally giving up the ghost under the sudden pressure of her new, toned muscle.I can’t help it. I let out a low, guttural moan that vibrates violently in the back of my throat.My imagination completely betrays me, instantly picturing myself dropping down there to finish what that barbell started, ripping the rest of those restrictive, baggy clothes right off of her and letting her hot skin breathe against the cool morning air."Fuck," I swear under my breath, my fingers digging into the stadium roof until the concrete actually crumbles under my nails.I

June’s PerspectiveLeila sighs, a long, exasperated sound that vibrates with years of dealing with difficult men. "It’s the President of ΦΟΜ," she says, her tone dripping with mock fatigue. "Fenris. My idiot of a brother's best friend."That's when it hits me like a bucket of ice water, the striking facial similarities, the same fiery red curly hair. Leila is Silas's older sister. The realization makes my stomach do a slow, nervous roll; in my blind panic to escape the fraternity house, I’ve stumbled right into the inner circle of the very people I was trying to avoid.She huffs, the sharp clack of her heels echoing as she paces the small space outside my dressing room. "He’s currently standing in my alleyway looking like a kicked puppy with the temper of a grizzly bear. He says he has your pendant, June. Apparently, you dropped it at the house."My breath hitches, my hand flying instinctively to my chest.He has it. The only piece of

From June's PerspectiveThe air in the boutique has fundamentally shifted. It’s no longer scented with Leila’s calming lavender and the neutral smell of new fabric; it’s thick, heavy, and saturated with the scent of Fenris, rain-soaked cedar, crushed mint, and a dense, muscular warmth that seems to coat the back of my throat.He is towering over me, a massive 6’6” mountain of a man who makes my new 5’7” frame feel delicate and fragile all over again. He is crowding the doorway, and as he takes a slow, deliberate step toward me, II feel the "electricity" under my skin surge. It’s not just a metaphor anymore; it’s a physical hum, a literal vibration in my marrow that makes my breath hitch. I’m staring up at him, my neck craned back, and for a moment, I am paralyzed by the sheer, impossible scale of him.Then, his gaze drops.He looks me up and down, his striking blue eyes, the color of a freezing w