The Lost Lycan Princess Novels & Stories

I remarked, rising from my seat and circling the table to stand before Alpha Killian, my gaze locking on him. Fear flickered in his eyes, swiftly masked by false confidence. Intriguing. “Have you ever heard of the Lycan King?” I inquired, my tone low and measured. “And what's your name?” “They don't exist; it's folklore. I'm Alpha Killian,” he retorted, meeting my gaze head-on.

If I can survive in here, how can I survive out there? I am pathetic, weak, and have no backbone. That’s why I am the prey. That’s why I am dying on the forest floor, slowly losing consciousness. I am going to be eaten alive in here. Am I that spinless to let it happen? Is this what my bloodline has succumbed to? Do I even deserve to be called the princess of the lycans if all I am doing is lying on the ground, waiting to die? Where is the strength? Where is the will to fight and show them who exactly they are messing with?

she said sarcastically. I groaned as I put my hand on her back. “Behave, Lycan Princess. We need to make it through the night.” “If you call me princess again, you will get blue balls like Zack.” I chortled. “These are your balls, too, baby.”

The last time I was the center of attention, I was banished. They all looked at each other and even before mother spoke, I knew that I could not escape from this welcome party. This was required of me as their daughter. I was no longer Sophia the maid but Sophia the daughter of the Lycan king and queen of the North. I was now a princess and I must behave like one and fulfill my duties. It was a burden I have to live with for the rest of my life.

Bianca asked as we trudged through a large field. “Hmm," I hummed a response and she sighed in relief. I snapped my eyes at her, not able to withhold the questions on my mind. “Who is that girl?" She looked at me, her lips twitched up in annoyance. “She is the Lycan princess, the sister of the Lycan kings," she replied, and my heart skipped. Her words confirmed my suspicion. “Are they all so rude?" I scoffed, narrowing my eyes. From the corner of my eyes, I saw a smile dart across Bianca's face.

I bit out, and immediately regretted the harshness in my tone. The prince didn’t look at me, although I saw the stiffness in his shoulders. “It’s not like that,” he replied. “My father, the Lycan King, is turning sixty soon—which means that the succession battle will be held at his banquet. He will officially retire and my brothers and I are meant to battle for the crown.” “I hardly see what this has to do with me.” “Well maybe if you would let me finish,” Neil retorted, then cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “What I mean to say is that a Lycan prince cannot participate in the succession battle unless he has a female companion in attendance; a future queen.”

She had no one to guide her, fearing her parents might find out. Aliyah kept her abilities to herself out of fear that the kingdom would see her as evil and compare her to her witch aunt, who waged war a year after her parents’ reign. How do I know this? Because I am Luna, also known as Aliyah Collins, an 18-year-old first-year college student majoring in fashion design. I am the daughter of the Lycan King and Queen. So, yes, I’m a princess. But as I mentioned, I am not like them. I don’t have a beast, so I cannot shift into my lycan form.

“No, listen to me. Lycans do not get their wolves at 18, but usually 1-2 years later. You… you are the lost Lycan princess. It’s why you never shifted.” Her brow furrows, and I can see the wheels turning in her mind. “But… I’m not special. I’m just Dust. No one expects anything from me. I’ve always wanted to blend in, to be invisible.” I reach out, cupping her cheek in my hand, feeling the warmth of her skin against my palm. “You are special, Dust. You’re more than what you’ve been told. You’re a part of something greater than yourself. I already have Kellan looking into the stories about the lost princess of the Lycans. I won’t let anyone doubt you again. Not

"You always knew, didn't you?" I opened my mouth, but only unintelligible sounds were produced. It was as though my vocal cords had seized. I wanted to close my eyes, yet I could not look away. "The little lost princess," he mocked. "Returned home. It's such a magical story, isn't it?" He regarded me like a predator would his prey. That was what I had become. I was in the presence of an assassin, and not just any one, the Silent Reaper in the flesh. I was more or less a rabbit in the jaws of a leopard. It was said that no one who came face to face with him ever lived to tell the tale. Except the red-eyed Lycan.

"Majesty. The blood is the same." The Queen didn't move. For a long moment, she stood frozen, staring down at the glowing water, at my glowing hand. Then she made a sound I will hear for the rest of my life. It wasn't a sob. It was a cry, broken open from somewhere beneath speech, the sound of twenty years of silence breaking all at once. I stood in the golden light and looked at the mark on my wrist. It was undeniable. It was absolute. Elira, who'd been taken in at three and put aside at twenty, who'd been left in the dark and forgotten by a family that had never thought to look, was the long-lost daughter of the Lycan royal house.