Lycan King Novels & Stories

"You... you murdered the old King?" "We took care of a problem," Rowan corrected coldly. "But we made one massive mistake. We let his son live. We thought a useless pup wouldn't survive the winter alone. But Cassian didn't die. He crawled into the shadows, built himself an army of loyalists, took back his crown, and now he's the Lycan King. He’s spent years waiting for the perfect moment to destroy us. And this Peace Gathering? This is his move." The room went completely silent, save for the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Sanny scratched the back of her head as if finding a reason but she bore a half smile on her face while shaking her head in belief. It seemed I would have to ask the King that question personally. I am a bit intrigued. I carefully plucked one of the roses that seemed to have fully bloomed, for some reason, it was calling me, an eternal darkness I could never escape from. Now that I am in the grasp of King Dain, the ruler of all werewolves, a cold and bloodthirsty lycan, how am I to survive? What should I do from here on out? As I admired the intricately beautiful flower, I fought for an answer that was in hands rich.

Never bow to the beast we call King, the one responsible for my coven's massacre, burned my family into ash and called it justice. Yet here I was, being offered as meat to the monster that ruled us all. The throne stood mighty, looking like something carved out of darkness itself, and on it, dressed in black and gold, sat the king. Lucien Valemont. The Lycan King. Even from a distance, his presence was overwhelming, cold, and intense. His face was unreadable, chiseled like it had been sculpted. But it was his eyes that took me off balance. They were hard green. Sharp as a knife.

I stroked her head and said patiently, "Honey, studying here is not suitable for you. You are so much smarter than the kids here." She beamed and reluctantly got out of the car. But the second she saw Araceli, she opened the door and raced over to her. "Araceli! Valeria!" She shouted, waving at them happily. I frowned slightly, wondering why she liked them so much. I pulled out my phone and dialed Micah. "Daddy, what's wrong?" The call was quickly answered, and Micah's calm voice came through the receiver. Many people in the Royal Pack said that Micah was as calm and collected as I was, and he was born to become Lycan King.

I might say, "isn’t it ironic?" "Nanny Daniele had explained to me that long ago, when the Lycan were known as powerful, cold, and wicked tyrants who ruled over the wolves, a treaty was made that one of the werewolf high born was to be married to the Lycan king's son, my father, but he wasn’t like the others, he doesn’t have the killer instincts, but he was ordered to take a bride anyway." Killian shrugged as he took out a bottle of wine and poured it into a cup. He noticed Brynn hadn’t moved an inch, but he knew she was listening attentively to everything he was saying.

"It's how we survive. The Lycans won the war a hundred years ago. We pay them what they demand, and we get to keep what we have left. Food, medicine, shelter — things you take for granted." The Lycans. My stomach rolled again. They ruled the South, but we were too far north to have seen any firsthand. We only knew what they were: stronger, faster, crueler, more magical, more monstrous. They kept wolves like pets, or like livestock. And sometimes, when the shelter had nothing else to offer, they took our women. There's a legend, whispered around campfires late at night, about the Lycan King. They say he made the rogues, turned entire packs into monsters to leas

Whatever waited beyond the southern borders, whatever new challenge eventually arrived to test everything we'd built together, I understood, standing there in the warm glow of a hard-won peace, that we'd face it exactly the way we'd faced everything since that very first night. Chosen. Together. However many times, however many crises, however many old grievances and ancient threats and scattered bloodlines still waited beyond the borders we understood. I hadn't broken, that first night in the Great Hall. I'd found, instead, exactly the life worth building — one choice, renewed daily, at a time. END OF BOOK ONE (The Lycan King's story continues in Book Two: Ki

I buried my face in my chest Maybe we should check, let's rip her clothes off to see if she's hiding a tail somewhere,” she ordered. I prayed fervently, hoping someone would come to my aid. “That's enough “ a deep voice cuts through the room. It was Wesley Blackwood, the Lycan king, the most feared monster among all kinds. “I mean, no one dares lay a hand on her,” he commanded. His steps were heavy as he walked towards us. My heart almost jumped out of my throat when I saw him emerge from the shadows.

He replied, continuing to walk. “Is King Marcelo going to be gracing us with his presence this year?” Jason asked the king. “Well. We are not certain. He never responded to the letter,” the King replied. The Lycan King? Did they invite him? The cold-blooded killer was invited to the convention? I wondered, following behind. If at all the Lycan will be here, I made a note to make sure that I avoid them at all costs. They were ruthless and dominant.

My heart impossibly shattered even more, making me stagger back as a stray tear rolled down my shocked cheeks. He hummed and waved his hands, immediately dismissing me while knowing very well that I wasn't okay with the arrangement but since when did Sullivan ever care about my opinion? I quietly returned to my room, all the while recalling every rumor I had ever heard about the Lycan king. His name was believed to be Hunter Tiberius Williams and he was cruelty in human form.