Wolfless Omega Claimed By Prince Lycan King Novels & Stories

Who’s going to be her mate. She gulped. Even when she’s confident of Damon’s skills and size, she also kind of believed to what the Woodfawn showed her. They’ve marked her baby as a white wolf, heir to the Lycan king’s throne. Even the magic of their ancestors sided with them, not with Brayden’s selfish wants of claiming her. “Watch out, alpha!” – one of Brayden’s men warned him. He was pushed back by Damon now, both their paws causing line marks on the cornfield’s tilled soil.

Noir cleared his throat and said seriously, “Andy, now that Cyclops is dead and the border is peaceful, you have nothing to worry about. “Since Ms. Crestfall likes you so much and is trying her best to pursue you, why don’t you give both her and yourself a chance? “Speaking of…” A cunning look flashed on Noir’s face. “A few days ago, the commanders of the Lycantroops even asked me if the Wolf King had found a Wolf Queen, and when they will have a Wolf Prince.” What the f*ck. A Wolf Prince? What kind of rubbish was that? Andrius rolled his eyes at Noir. “I’m not who Luna likes. She likes the high and mighty Wolf King who can always protect her. Besides...

Lyon chuckled. “About what?” Calder asked. “She healed me,” Waylon said proudly, pointing to me. “Hence this.” I showed her my highlights. “They’re not dyed?” “No, Calder. That’s the price she paid for healing our father,” Califf replied. “So I owed you double, then?” Mystified, he stared at me. “More like many,” Zack said. “Her father’s blood cures your wolf.” “The King?” “Not just a king, Calder. He’s the Lycan King. I’m sure you’ve heard of Lycan. Powerful and stronger than any of us,” Zack explained.

“It must be the Lycan Prince’s…” “Of course it is,” another one hisses. “That explains her sudden strength.” “But how is that possible? It was just recently we learnt she became the Lycan Prince’s mate. When could this have happened?” “Their bond must have been completed.” The gossip spreads like wildfire, slipping past the clinic walls and seeping into the corridors, reaching the ears of every maid, every omega, every wolf with nothing better to do than whisper about the disgraced outcast.

“It is absurd for an alpha werewolf to have a prolonged illness that interrupts his activities.” Omega Logan stepped forward, pointing a finger at his opponent. “Because he's lying. I've never fallen sick my whole life.” “If you speak out of turn again,” the Lycan King warned without raising his tone, “I will dismiss this matter entirely. There would be no shaman brought to verify things and you would be killed immediately for false claims.” The warning was precise. Omega Logan seethed in anger, but there was nothing he could do. He was already powerless in this case and couldn't risk throwing away his only means of breakthrough. He didn't apologize for speaking, he simply kept quiet.

“I’m not an omega?” Rowan turned to me, his expression fierce and proud. “You could never be an omega,” he said, his voice resonating with certainty. “You are of royal Lycan lineage. The blood of the Mooncrest dynasty flows through your veins.” I blinked rapidly, shaking my head. “That doesn’t make sense. The seizures...”

“I tried to talk to Lexy, but the Lycan prince interrupted us. They’re dating. I stand no chance against him.” What? He met Lexy. And she is with a prince. Useless, wolfless Lexy? Dating a prince? That couldn’t be true. Alpha Jacob chuckled. “Son, everyone knows the Lycan prince’s reputation. He’s a womanizer. Lexy doesn’t offer him much—no rank, no wolf, not even rare beauty...” He was echoing my thoughts word for word. “He’ll get bored of her in a week,” he continued, “and then you can swoop in, play the hero, and mend her little broken heart.”

Something ancient coiled beneath it. Power. No. Dominance. Lycan. The court fell silent as Harlan pushed him forward. Caelan stepped onto the mosaic floor, a wolf’s head crafted from obsidian and gold, and dropped to one knee. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. “Presenting Caelan Ashford,” Harlan declared, voice echoing. “Omega son of Lord Elias Ashford, offered in tribute to His Majesty, King Lucien Draven, Lycan Sovereign of the United Packs.”

I growled to the empty room, slamming my fist onto the table. My wolf paced restlessly behind my ribs, his claws digging into my soul. He didn't care about politics. He didn't care about my reputation. He wanted her. He wanted to claim her, to mark her, and to roar to the world that she belonged to the Lycan Prince. But I couldn't. I was the Alpha of the most powerful pack in the North. I was a Lycan Prince. If I accepted a weak, rejected Omega as my Luna, I would be a laughingstock. The other Alphas would see it as a sign of weakness.

“You are the King, Lucian. The future of the Lycans rests on your shoulders. You cannot behave as though your time belongs only to you.” His use of my name was deliberate. So was the slight lowering of his voice, as though he were bringing me back to my senses after some childish lapse. I let him continue. I wanted to hear how far he intended to go before he remembered where he stood. “Lycans are superior to werewolves,” he continued. “You know that. Yet you let a lowly werewolf walk beside you, ride with you and enjoy access that others would spend years trying to earn.”