Rejected By The Lycan King Novels & Stories

As the darkness of his gaze swallowed me whole, I realized that the girl who was rejected by the pack was about to become the woman who rules them all. Liam didn't just throw away a mutt; he threw away a queen. The Lycan King’s grip tightened, his eyes flashing with a possessive hunger that told me he was never letting go. "Mine," he whispered. And for the first time in twenty-one years, I believed it.

To return back to a home. With those lycans behind me we could create a level of that intimidation we once had among other species and could bring the the fae king into accepting my offer to become the lycan king. No one would have gotten hurt, maybe Lysara would have been hurt to know that that was my intention the first time I had seen her. The king says nothing on that issue. "So you're saying it's a setup?" Gabriel nods his head, Thomas says nothing yet.

"You see? just let go.” He didn’t. I saw it in his jaw. The way his eyes kept drifting east at night. Then Ares came. I wasn’t ready for that. The Lycan King himself stood at our border with fifty of his butchers, and shouted loud for the whole pack to hear: “You threw her out like garbage. So don’t you dare send wolves after her!” Her. He said her like it was a name like it was a title. Kael went to the wall. I followed. Mistake.

Lucien had the door open before she could ask how he'd unlocked it. She didn't get in. "One more thing," she said. "Before I cross whatever line getting in that car represents." He stopped on the driver's side. Looked at her across the roof. "You said my bloodline outranks every living Lycan." She kept her voice level. "You said the Old Court wants it to legitimise their revival." She held his gaze. "You are Lycan. You came looking for me before the Old Court got here. You found me first." She let that sit for exactly one second. "Why does the Lycan King want me, Lucien? What does your court get out of this?"

To get me alone. "The Lycan King will kill you," I said. My voice shook but I forced the words out. "The Lycan King won't find pieces big enough to bury." Marcus pulled out a silver knife. "This ends tonight. Should have ended twenty years ago." My wolf snarled inside me. Loud. Furious. Stronger than I'd ever felt her. Fight, she commanded. Don't run. FIGHT. "I don't know how," I whispered. Yes you do. Let me out. LET ME OUT!

"Who?" "My fated mate," she answered. "That's great then. Who was he?" "He's not a good guy. He's that insane king," "There are many mad kings out there. Which one in particular are you referring to?" the king asked with furrowed eyebrows. "Kyle Norman, the Lycan King," Xylia responded with a tinge of sadness in her voice, "I rejected him. But it failed because he didn't accept the rejection and he's stronger than me. So, that's why I suffered a backlash,"

He raised the dagger for a second strike, screaming, "Die, you filthy fucking—" He didn't get to finish the sentence. A massive hand, cloaked in pitch-black shadow magic, clamped over his face. Ronan didn't just grab him; he obliterated his momentum. The Lycan King lifted the grown man entirely off his feet by his skull. The lord dropped the dagger, kicking wildly, his muffled screams vibrating through Ronan’s thick fingers. "You touched my Queen," Ronan snarled, a sound so dark and demonic it shook the dust from the chandeliers.

His grasp was strong and I saw his thick veins popping out of his skin as he tried lifting me up from the floor and I began to struggle against his fist. “Pleaseeeee…” I tried to beg but it seemed I had already passed my boundary. He was never going to forgive me, not forever. “I'll end your life today and you'll be served as meat as a gift for my coronation,” he stated with so much effrontery that I gave in to his words. Maybe, it would be better if I just died. Maybe, I could finally find peace by joining my dead parents in the afterlife. His chamber’s door was suddenly thrown open and a slave ran in. “Sir, the Lycan Prince just arrived-” He paused, noticing the tense atmosphere and quickl

"Give me a name right now!" Vance flinched, the red imprint of my fingers burning against his pale skin. He looked up at me, his eyes totally unhinged. "Cassian Volkov!" he screamed. "The Lycan King!" The name hit me like a physical blow. I let go of his shirt and stumbled back a step, the breath completely knocked out of me. "Cassian? Why would the Lycan King be in our woods? Why would a ruler like him care about a human outcast?"

For a second, just a second, there is a shimmer under my skin, faint and silver, and then it’s gone so fast I think I imagined it. I’m tired. I’m imagining things. I get up and start walking back. ♦︎ The weeks that follow are the greyest of my life. The pack talks. They always talk, but now they have material. The Lycan King rejected the curse-born at the Mating Ceremony not even a real rejection, they say, because you can only be properly rejected by a mate who considers you worth rejecting, and clearly, I was not. My aunt’s satisfaction is quiet and thorough. She doesn’t say anything outright. She doesn’t have to.