Novel & Cerita Cursed Lycan's Scarred Mate

The man whimpered in pain as he further thought, "Lycans are ahead of others for several reasons, one of which is them having Lycans as their mates! Unlike werewolves who can have humans and vampires as their mates, we can only have a Lycan as our mate!" The man felt sadistic on the discovery that Skyla didn't appear to be a Lycan to him, so she couldn't be her mate! In a fit of rage, he slapped his right hand on the ground. Skyla got scared and worried at the same time. She immediately swung her head to her right and grabbing his wrist, she asked, "Hey, what happened, are you okay?" Skyla got panicky when he started shaking his head from left to right and she said, "I am trying, dear! Pleas

We always travel with a big group to prevent any power hungry wolves or rouges from getting any ideas since we are the most powerful kingdom of Lycans in North and South America. As Lycans we are closer to being directly descended from the Moon Goddess, so we are bigger, much stronger and faster, and we can live for hundreds of years beyond even the long life span of werewolves. Which is why when or should I say if we ever find a mate once we mark them they slowly turn into Lycan as well. Unlike werewolves we can be mated to anyone, supernatural beings or even humans, and nothing in our mates life aside from already being with a fated mate can prevent us from taking and marking them. I perso

The mate bond was the only thing a Lycan couldn’t resist. We could act like it didn’t matter, but we felt every bit of it. Every twitch in our nerves responded to our little scarred mate. I leaned against the door frame, and watched her walk further into the room, whilst my body crackled with electric sensations, it had absolutely no business having. I—we had only one mate. She was dead, and on a piece of her dress was found on the borders of an enemy pack. Nothing was more insulting than beating the pain from the loss of a mate, and worse still the said enemy was passive about it.

Violent. Her stomach churned. Lucian slowly turned his head toward her. One raised eyebrow was enough to force her cough back down her throat. “This is...?” he asked. The way he looked at her made her feel filthy. Like a stray dog that had wandered into a king’s court. “Zara Grey,” Kael answered. “She is my mate.” Lucian stared at him for a long moment. Then he laughed. “Your mate?” The amusement in his voice was cruel. “A beta bonded to a Lycan.”

My protective instincts surge forth, urging me to hold her close, to shield her from further harm. The sight of dark scars that crisscross her body sends a tremor of anguish through my Lycan being. Each mark tells a story of pain and suffering, a testament to the horrors she has endured. A surge of anger rises within me, a primal rage fueled by the knowledge that no one should endure such cruelty, regardless of any crimes they may have committed. As the doctor murmurs observations, her voice laced with sympathy, I move closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull drawing me toward my mate.

He muttered, rubbing the side where the blow had landed against. “Stay away from her! You bloody bastard! I'll murder you if I catch you sneaking around Lazaro. I may be slow, you may be a hybrid, and you may be faster, but know this: I am a lycan, and she is my mate! I will not watch you this time, I promise.” I threatened, sure enough for my tone to carry finality in them, I could see he understood all I had said. and for a brief moment, his expression had cracked.

Judith jumped into the conversation as though it were indeed what we had been discussing. Dad sits on the edge of the clothing-filled couch. “It is as simple as stating. I, then your name, reject, then your mate's name, as my mate.” His saddened look forces me to question it. “Why do you look so sad?” I ask. “The fact that the two of you may have to reject your mate after finally finding them will be terrible. Hey, but if one of you rejects a Lycan, Devin is available.” His voice turns high-spirited as he looks at me with hope. “After what he pulled, no thanks. I still care, but he crossed that boundary and cannot return from it.” I huff as I pull a pile of clothes back into my closet into t

The scent of cedar and leather enveloped her, mingled with a faint hint of Lycan heritage. "Cyrus, are you hurt?" she asked, her voice labored with concern. Her nape warmed with worry. Cyrus remained motionless, his breath grazing her ear. The scent of fir wound around her senses like a vine. Could it be that he had been kicked by the horse during their tumble? But he belonged to Mandala and possessed a powerful Lycan bloodline—how could he be injured so easily? Patience, driven by instinct, wanted to check for injuries.

“She was the Lycan’s mate… his bride. She was murdered by demons during the Dark Rise.” My heart clenched. “He never got over her,” she added, backing away. “Be careful.” And with that, she was gone. I stood there, frozen. His mate. His first love. Killed. And he’d been carrying that grief in silence… for how long? I exhaled shakily, my chest tight. He must’ve loved her so much… My wolf growled low within me, like she had something to say. “Vivian, what is it?” I asked silently.

What’s going on with her? It’s close to a week now since DeLorna last saw him. She’s been asking questions about creatures like him, and just two days ago she learnt he was not a wolf but a lycanthrope. No wonder he made a statement on the first night they met, “I ain’t a wolf.” DeLorna also went ahead making research about how Lycans communicate with their mates, and she’s been trying the mind-link method since the day of her discovery. “ Urgh, fu*king answer me. “ She opened her eyes. “ Guess that’s only for the wolves.” She sighed in defeat.