The Lycan King’s Mark Novels & Stories

I said looking out the window even though I couldn’t see. I was beginning to question why this was happening to me, I couldn’t remember much about the conversation Detective Marks and the other man had, but they mentioned something about a Lycan King, I wanted to know more about this. “Who is the Lycan King?” I quizzed. “His name is Gideon,” Nick said. “He wants to ensure you are safe, and he knows you are confused about a lot of things.” “What is a Lycan?” “A hybrid Werewolf.”

I cried out. Then he released me. A mark burned into my wrist. Dark, precise lines etched into skin, glowing once before settling into black. It pulsed faintly, as if the hall itself acknowledged it. The court erupted. “A King’s seal!” “Forbidden!” “He marked her!” Kael faced them calmly. “This is not a mating mark,” he said. Silence slammed into the hall. “This is Lycan law. Royal protection. Without claim.” My wrist throbbed. Rage flared, stealing my breath. “You had no right!” I shouted. Heads turned. Even the Alphas stiffened. “You don’t get to own me twice!”

The symbols blazed—gold and silver, brighter than the torches, brighter than the fires. "You are not welcome here," I said. "Leave Blackwood territory. Take your army back to the mountains. Go back to the darkness. Or die." The king laughed. It was a hollow sound, empty of warmth, bouncing off the walls of the pavilion. "You cannot kill me," he said. "I am the first Lycan king. I was born from the shadow before the first wolf learned to walk. I am the hunger that never ends. I am the darkness that existed before your bloodline, before the packs, before the world knew light."

Katana is the first one to ask, “whose mark and mate ceremony are we conducting?” “Mine” “What?” I half yell in surprise, what exactly is going on in the mind of this Lycan king? “What are you saying?” I whisper to him, “mark and mate ceremony? Your own?” A small grin appears on his face as leans towards me, “Our mark and mate ceremony” he tells me and my eyes open wide as saucers. “What did you say? Can we have a talk?” After I finish talking, I pull him up and drag him along out of the room. The moment we are out of the room and on the front porch, I let go of his hand and turn my full attention to him, my eyes hovering over him like a curious raven.

The dawn was just breaking over the Blackstone Pack’s grounds, casting long shadows across the assembled crowd in the courtyard. The elders of the Lycan Council, each draped in ceremonial robes that bore the insignia of their rank, stood alongside King Alaric. The Lycan King’s presence alone cast an aura of solemn authority, his silver gaze steely and unyielding. Kane stood by his father’s side, his own expression unreadable yet tense, his protective stance making it clear that his support lay with Lyra.

But even as I spoke the words, a small, nagging voice whispered in the back of my mind. What if she had finally escaped for good? I shook my head, refusing to entertain the thought. Lyra has no freedom of her own, and I would bring her back. No matter the cost. A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I barked. Beta Markus entered. “Alpha,” he began, “I have an urgent message from the Lycan King.” “What does he want?” I asked as I straightened in my chair. “He’s requested an audience with you,” he said.

I was nervous that dad might be able to read my mind but if I don't make a plan then I am as good as dead the moment I step outside. I tried to get some sleep as I waited for midnight to come. My heart finally calmed down as I drifted off to a deep slumber. The scene that was in front of me changed. Gone was the boy who always wailed. There was a man sitting on the throne and he was staring straight into my eyes. My heart pounded. He was beautiful. His eyes are as red as blood, it was glowing. "Our prince is now crowned as our Lycan king. I present to all of you, the Lycan King Endrée Zion Calder. All hail to the Lycan king!" the man who crowned him proclaimed delightfully. The crowd cheered

He retorted once again, but I stood transfixed to a spot with my mouth hung wide agape. “Leave? That's all you intend to say? How shameless can you really be? You irritate me down to the core erebus.” I retorted, clenching my fists. I could feel my blood boiling at an insane range; it was killing me way too much to listen to whatever crappy words the bastard had said, but I had not expected him to yell at me for any reason. “Yes. Leave. Stop acting like we are lovers. I married you only because I need an excuse; you don't get to pass out orders for me, and it seems you have forgotten your place in this pack. I am the Lycan King , and you tried to steal from me!”

The largest rogue, the one who had nearly ripped my throat out minutes earlier, let out a trembling whine and bowed his massive head. I followed their gaze. Golden eyes burned through the darkness. Cold. Ancient. Terrifying. The man stepped forward. The Lycan King. Lucian’s gaze moved slowly across the clearing, taking in the kneeling rogues, the blood on the ground and finally, me. His eyes sharpened. The moment they landed on me, my wolf jolted violently inside my chest. Recognition. Danger. Something else I refused to name. The silver mark on my wrist burned hot.

The blade dug deeper into my skin, and I felt warm blood trickle down my neck. A low growl rumbled from Ronan’s chest, and the rogues glanced at each other with unease. “Now kneel,” the rogue leader ordered, but my husband didn't move, and he cautiously started to approach. “I said kneel, or I'll kill her!” he growled. Ronan would never kneel, he is the lycan king, and kings don't bow to anyone. It's either he'd let them kill me or tear them all apart, but he did something I didn't expect.