The Lycans Novels & Stories

Grace's voice resonated with authority as she confronted Giovanni, her tone laced with defiance, "You won't dare to do that!" Undeterred by her challenge, Giovanni met her gaze with unwavering confidence. His voice carried the weight of his position as he proclaimed, "I will and I can! I am the Lycan King of this pack, and no one else possesses the right to oppose me. Not even you, Grandmother."

Now my late family can rest in peace. He was the one that ordered the rampage on my village and the fire that consumed my palace and family. Revenge had been served on a silver platter that appealed so much to me. I marched onto the top of the concrete steps, his spiked head beside me. I drew the attention of my pack and addressed them. “Lycans!! Lycans of Blood Moon pack!! I beckoned, tightening my jaw and raising my balled fist in the air. The sight of them in a spiteful mood appealed to me.

Amara said. Nicolas haven't thought about this before. But now that she bought it up, he knew that she should do something by herself. He was more than ok with providing for her. He has been providing for lots of pack members as well but her thing was different. The pack members he has been providing for are too small. They can't work on their own and he doesn't want to put pressure on their parents. Plus, he has been only earning since now. He really doesn't have anywhere else to spend them.

Lycans were a myth. “I’m serious, Zaliver,” I said with my lips pursing at him. “So am I.” I shook my head at him not believing him. “Think about it. A species similar to werewolves but are way too different from them—stronger, faster, and better than wolves. I command all wolves. Come on, Vivian,” he said.

Leaning forward slightly, she continued: “What matters is that you don’t need to be scared for me. I already have someone protecting me.” I studied her face carefully for a few seconds. She looked calm. Certain. Not nervous or trapped the way I used to look whenever people mentioned Rowan. Eventually, I let out another sigh. “Alright,” I muttered. “I’ll try not to worry.” Even though deep down, I probably still would. As far as I knew, Lycans were different from werewolves in many ways. They didn’t form traditional packs the same way wolves did, but they still had powerful circles and hierarchies among their kind, usually centered around strength.

Their bodies grew larger, their clothes tearing away as thick fur sprouted from their skin. In less than a minute, the men were gone. In their place stood three massive Lycans. They were much bigger than the wolves I had seen in movies. They were the size of small horses, with thick muscles and eyes that glowed like embers. The first one was silver-grey with intelligent, piercing eyes. That was Alaric. The second was a sleek, charcoal black with a sharp, calculating look. That was Silas. The third was a dark, reddish-brown, covered in scars and looking ready to tear the world apart. That was Killian.

He was tall and unbearably handsome, with only a button-up shirt and pants, standing in the middle of the yard, he stood out like a beacon in the white snow with his all-black attire, his hair long and tied roughly in the back. I could not stop staring. Couldn’t he feel the cold? Perhaps he was one of the king’s men. That’s why he couldn’t feel the cold. Lycans were a different breed compared to the other type of wolves, they were the original were shifters, made by the Goddess herself the other shifters, like the Arabian wolves, steppe wolves, Himalayan and Eurasian wolves evolved over time. They were stronger, faster and two times the average size of a normal wolf.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The truth was right there, but fear tightened around my throat and swallowed it whole. And Damien… He hadn’t looked away once. His eyes were locked on me, sharp and unreadable. It felt like he could see through me. I was having a panic attack and I couldn't move. I wished I could disappear. After what felt like forever, I gave the smallest nod. It was all I could manage. The priest raised his arms high. “Then, by the ancient laws of the Lycan bloodline, I now pronounce you mates. May the Moon Goddess bless your union.”

"For a race with beastly transformation and magic, you guys are awfully quiet. I haven't seen one show of magic since I arrived." Emris shot her a deadpan look, then sighed. "I guess your history books skipped over an important information: Lycans are and have always been peaceful creatures. And our magical abilities?" He held out his hand and a tornado formed; circling his fingers till it vanished into thin air. "Every Lycan either has fire, earth, water or wind. And honestly? It's easy to forget about them." "Why is that?" "Someone with a stronger right arm will use their right hand for everything. Lycans are stronger when shifted, the abilities are simply a plus."

I questioned, pulling a fiery-tinted dress up to my shoulders. “Yes,” Jessica said as she adjusted the full-length mirror so I could see myself better. I zipped up the tight dress, outlining my every curve. I cringed in pain as the material stuck to my back. Jessica immediately unzipped me. “Your back is still tender,” she gently reminded me. “You’ll need to heal more before we go.” “There are more people in ShadowClaw?” I asked. “There are four big shots in the pack. Three of them are villainous and shady, Arthur being the most notorious. Then there is one who is more ethical.”