Chapter 1
The moon hung high in the ink-black sky as Raven scrubbed the stone floor of the orphanage hallway, her hands trembling from exhaustion. Her fingers were raw, blistered, and bleeding from hours of relentless labor, her back throbbing from the cruel weight of punishment. Every breath she took felt like fire in her chest, her ribs aching from the last beating. Ella worked beside her, her once-vibrant eyes now lifeless and hollow, staring at the wooden planks she was forced to polish until her hands bled.
The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and despair, their bodies covered in bruises that never had the chance to heal. The harsh crack of Mrs. Dunley's whip echoed in their ears, a constant reminder that pain was their only certainty. Even the smallest imperfection—a speck of dust, a misaligned sheet—would earn them a lashing. No food, no rest, only torment. The scars on their backs bore testament to their suffering, each one a silent scream against their tormentor's cruelty. Tonight was no different; tonight, they were nothing more than broken dolls being worked to death.
Raven had lived in this orphanage for a decade, ever since her parents were executed by the former Alpha for their crime—being rogues. The punishment had been swift, and she had been left behind, too young to fight, too powerless to escape. She was thrown into the orphanage, where she met Ella, a fellow rogue who had no family to claim her either. They suffered together, worked together, and now, as Ella's eighteenth birthday loomed, they prepared for the worst.
The new Alpha had taken over a year ago, and he was far more ruthless than his father. When he declared that all rogues were to be executed upon reaching adulthood, fear spread through the orphanage like wildfire. The verdict was expected to be held on Ella's birthday, and Raven had prepared herself for two more months of agony before her own execution. But the night before, a chilling announcement was made—Raven's fate would be decided alongside Ella's. The shock and terror that gripped her were worse than any beating she had ever endured. They wouldn't even grant her the last two months of life she had clung to as her only hope.
Far beyond the borders of the pack's territory, the Lycan King had taken personal interest in the growing number of rogue children being captured and executed. His people, superior in strength and bloodline, ruled the shifter realm, and while he rarely meddled in werewolf affairs, the systematic slaughter of rogues before they reached adulthood was an abomination.
It was illegal to execute a rogue unless they had committed a crime or reached the age of maturity, and yet, packs across the land continued to do so unchecked. Children should not bear the punishment for the crimes of their parents—justice was meant to be served to the guilty, not their offspring. Yet, time and time again, the cruelty of packs saw innocent young lives snuffed out simply for their bloodline.
King Lucian decided to investigate personally, knowing that the truth was often hidden behind layers of deception. He had heard rumors of an orphanage mistreating rogue children, of verdicts being handed down before their time. If such corruption was indeed happening, he would put an end to it himself.
When the orphanage received word that the Lycan King himself would be arriving, Mrs. Dunley's cruelty intensified. She worked Raven and Ella to the bone, forcing them to clean every inch of the orphanage under threat of severe punishment. If there was so much as a wrinkle in the sheets, they would be beaten. If a single speck of dust remained, they would be denied food.
But none of it mattered, because the Alpha had already decided their fate. He wanted them gone before the King arrived, their bodies disposed of before any questions could be asked.
The night before Ella's execution, Raven held her friend's hand tightly. "We have to run," she whispered.
Ella shook her head. "There's nowhere to go."
"We can't just accept this."
Ella swallowed hard. "If we run, they'll catch us. If we fight, they'll kill us anyway."
Tears burned Raven's eyes, but she had no words to argue. They were trapped, and they both knew it.
Morning came too soon, but before they left the orphanage, Raven and Ella were forced to complete one final round of grueling chores. Their bodies already battered and weak, they scrubbed the floors until their knuckles bled, polished the wooden banisters until their arms shook, and carried heavy buckets of water up and down the halls. Any sign of exhaustion resulted in brutal punishment.
When Raven collapsed from sheer fatigue, gasping for air, Mrs. Dunley's cold eyes gleamed with cruel delight. "Lazy little rat," she hissed, raising the whip. "You think you can slack off? Get up!"
"Please, she—she just needs a moment!" Ella pleaded, stepping forward, but a sharp glare from Mrs. Dunley made her recoil.
"Silence!" The whip cracked through the air, striking Raven's back with brutal force. A strangled cry escaped her lips despite her best efforts to remain silent. Another lash followed, and then another. The pain was excruciating, white-hot agony searing through her spine.
Gritting her teeth through the searing pain, Raven refused to scream, refused to give their tormentor the satisfaction. When the punishment finally ceased, she struggled to her feet, her dress clinging to her bloodied back.
Ella rushed to her side, barely holding back tears. "Come on, let's get you changed," she whispered, her voice thick with worry.
Raven nodded weakly, allowing her friend to guide her away. They both knew they had little time before the verdict, but Raven would not stand before the crowd drenched in blood—it was the last shred of dignity she could claim.
As they stepped outside, a convoy of black luxury cars rolled to a stop in front of the orphanage. For a brief moment, hope flickered in their chests—had the King arrived early??
Instead, several men in sharp suits emerged. One of them was different, his presence more commanding than the others. Raven dared to glance up for just a second before quickly looking away, her rogue status forbidding her from making eye contact. But in that brief moment, she felt something stir within her. The man's gaze lingered on her, his gray eyes narrowing as if he recognized something in her that he couldn't place.
Mrs. Dunley stepped forward to greet them. "Welcome, sir. I assume you are the King?"
The man scoffed. "No. I am his Beta."
A chill ran down Raven's spine when she heard his voice. If the Beta was here, then the King was close. But Mrs. Dunley, fearing that the girls would somehow catch the King's attention, quickly ushered them away before they could hear more.
As they were walking to town, Raven's instincts screamed that something was wrong. A shiver ran down her spine, a deep unease settling in her gut. The man with the silver eyes. His stare was unrelenting, piercing, as if he was searching for something within her. A strange pull tightened in her chest, an inexplicable draw that made her heart race. Her rogue status forbade her from making eye contact, but she felt compelled, almost as if something inside her yearned to meet his gaze.
Who was he? And why did he unsettle her so much?
Her breath hitched as she quickly looked away, her pulse pounding in her ears. A strange warmth coiled in her chest, both unsettling and intoxicating. She wasn't sure if it was fear, curiosity, or something else entirely. Why did his gaze feel different? Why did it send shivers down her spine, making her stomach twist in ways she didn't understand? She bit her lip, forcing herself to ignore the strange pull she felt toward the silver-eyed man. Whatever this was, she couldn't afford to acknowledge it. Not today. She couldn't afford distractions, not today. Whatever that feeling was, she had no time to decipher it. Her fate was already sealed.
As they walked down the worn path leading out of town, Ella glanced toward the distant forest, her voice barely a whisper. "If we were stronger, we could run."
Raven followed her gaze, her chest tightening. The road stretched endlessly before them, an impossible escape shimmering just out of reach. "We wouldn't make it," she murmured. "Not like this."
Ella sighed, her steps faltering for a moment. "I hate this. Knowing we're walking to our deaths and there's nothing we can do."
Raven swallowed hard, gripping Ella's wrist. "We keep moving. No matter what happens, we don't show them fear."
Ella nodded, but her fingers trembled in Raven's grasp. The feeling of eyes watching them only grew stronger, and despite everything, Raven couldn't shake the lingering pull of the silver-eyed man. He had unsettled her—but he had also felt... different.
Raven was forced to her knees in the square, her hands bound tightly behind her back as the Alpha stood over her, his blade gleaming in the morning light. He was alone, the master of their fate, his authority unquestioned. She could feel Ella's presence just a few feet away, standing to the side, her body shaking with silent sobs.
The Alpha stepped forward, his voice echoing through the hushed crowd. "These rogue abominations have no place in my pack. They are stains upon our kind. Today, I purge this filth!" His eyes darkened as he lifted his sword. "Both of them will die. Now."
"No! Please! She's done nothing wrong!" Ella cried, her voice breaking, but the guards held her firmly in place.
The Alpha sneered at Raven, his grip tightening on his sword. "Filthy rogue. This is the price for your kind."
Raven's body trembled, but she lifted her chin, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her fear. The blade was raised, the crowd silent, waiting for the inevitable. The end was moments away.
But just as the blade was about to descend, a thunderous voice rang out.
"Stop."
A powerful aura crashed over the square, sending everyone to their knees. A towering figure in a dark coat stepped forward, his presence undeniable, his authority absolute. Behind him, his Beta and a contingent of soldiers stood at attention, their sheer presence striking fear into all who dared oppose him. The Lycan King had arrived.
Lucian's gray eyes swept across the scene, and his gaze landed on Raven. His breath caught in his throat. There was something about her—something that called to him. And yet, she was just a rogue. But as he looked at her, bruised, bloodied, and on her knees, something inside him snapped. His wolf roared to life, howling with unrestrained fury, clawing at his consciousness. The sight of her in such a state, moments from execution, made his instincts go wild with possessiveness and rage. He clenched his fists, barely holding himself back. This wasn't just pity or outrage—this was something deeper, something primal. His wolf demanded action, demanded that he take her, protect her. And Lucian had never felt anything so intense in his life.
"You cannot execute her," Lucian declared, his voice laced with command. "She has not yet reached maturity."
The Alpha clenched his jaw, straightening his posture as he glared at the Lycan King. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, the law states that the Alpha of the pack has the final say over rogues within his territory. I have decided. They die today."
Lucian's gray eyes darkened, his voice a quiet storm. His wolf bristled beneath the surface, a possessive growl threatening to escape as he fought for control. The sight of Raven, trembling yet defiant, ignited something primal within him—something undeniable. His wolf recognized her, claimed her, but Lucian refused to acknowledge the growing pull. Not yet. "You forget another law, Alpha. The Maturity Law. Rogues are not to be executed before they have reached the age of maturity, unless they have committed a crime. This girl—" he gestured toward Raven "—is not yet eighteen."
The Alpha scoffed. "That law does not apply here. She is a rogue. She does not deserve the privilege of such laws."
A deadly silence fell over the square. Lucian took a slow step forward, his presence suffocating, his wolf dangerously close to the surface. "You dare challenge me?" His voice was low, lethal. "You, an Alpha of a mere werewolf pack, believe you hold more authority than the Lycan King?" His Beta and soldiers tensed, their hands resting on their weapons, prepared for any sign of defiance.
The Alpha hesitated, a flicker of fear finally breaking through his arrogance. He opened his mouth as if to protest, but the weight of Lucian's power bore down on him like an unmovable force. A crushing pressure filled the air, suffocating, overwhelming. The aura of the Lycan King surged through the square, sending a primal wave of fear through all present.
The Alpha's fingers twitched around the hilt of his sword, but he couldn't hold it—his grip loosened, and with a clatter, the blade slipped from his grasp, hitting the ground at his feet. His breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as the realization set in—he was nothing compared to the King standing before him.
Lucian's eyes never left him, unyielding, merciless. "You will remember your place, Alpha," he said, his voice a lethal whisper. "And you will kneel before your King."
The Alpha swallowed hard, stepping back slightly, his bravado shattered under the force of Lucian's presence.
Lucian turned to his Beta. "Take them."
The guards released Raven and Ella, but as they tried to escape, Ella stumbled. Without thinking, Raven ran back, grabbing her friend just as the Alpha moved to strike. But before he could land the fatal blow, Lucian stepped in, his mere presence forcing the Alpha to freeze.
Lucian didn't understand why he had so much compassion for this girl with raven-black hair and dark blue eyes, a shade too rare for a werewolf. But as he looked into her trembling form, his wolf stirred.
The Beta and soldiers quickly escorted Raven and Ella to the sleek black car waiting at the edge of the square. Every touch on Raven's skin made her wince, her back raw from the morning's lashes. Fear clung to the girls like a second skin, their minds spiraling into panic. They had been taken, but to what fate? Their experience had taught them that mercy did not exist for rogues.
Darius, Lucian's Beta, observed the scene in silence. He had known the King for years, had fought beside him through countless battles, yet he had never seen Lucian react the way he had today. The growl that rumbled from the Lycan King's chest when Raven flinched had been more than just irritation—it had been primal, possessive. Something wasn't right. Lucian was usually indifferent to prisoners, let alone rogues. But this one... there was something different about her.
Darius narrowed his eyes as he slid into the car beside his King. He had a strong feeling that whatever was happening, Lucian hadn't yet realized it himself. But Darius had seen the signs before—signs of a mate bond. And if his suspicions were correct, things were about to get a lot more complicated.
Raven's hands clenched into fists, her body tense as she sat beside Ella, both of them staring blankly ahead, expecting the worst. Every bump in the road made her flinch, her wounds burning with fresh pain not crying or she will be punished again. Ella squeezed her hand, but the silent understanding between them remained—they were being led to slaughter, just in a different place.
Then, abruptly, the car came to a stop.
The door opened, and Lucian stepped out first. He turned, motioning for the guards to bring the girls out. Confusion flickered in Raven's eyes, but she obeyed, stepping onto the dirt road with shaky legs. The vast open land stretched before them, the dense forests marking the distant borders of their suffering.
Lucian folded his arms, his gray eyes steady as they rested on them. Doubt gnawed at him, an unfamiliar weight pressing against his usual certainty. He had given countless orders, made decisions that shaped entire territories, yet this moment felt different. Was he truly offering them a choice, or was he simply convincing himself? His wolf stirred restlessly, watching Raven with an intensity that unsettled him. He forced himself to maintain his firm stance, unwilling to show the conflict brewing within him. "You are not prisoners. You are not going to be executed. You are safe," he said, his voice carrying an authority that left no room for doubt.
Raven's breath hitched, her mind rejecting the words. "Why would you save us? We are rogues. No one saves rogues your majesty," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Lucian's expression remained unreadable. "Because you deserve a choice. You can leave if you wish, but you won't survive long on your own as rogues so fragile. Or, you can come with me—to the Lycan Kingdom. You will be protected there."
Raven and Ella exchanged glances, uncertainty swimming in their eyes. Running meant certain death. Staying with him meant the unknown. But the way he spoke, the power he carried—it felt like, for the first time, someone was offering them more than a death sentence.
After a moment, Raven took a deep breath and nodded. Ella, with tears brimming in her eyes, followed suit.
Lucian watched them closely as they settled in the car. He could sense their fear, their bodies coiled tight like wounded animals waiting for the final blow. Every time the car hit a bump, Raven flinched making his wolf growl, and he didn't miss the way Ella's grip on her arm tightened—so tight it would leave bruises. His wolf rumbled in discontent at the sight of them trembling, the scent of their fear making something primal inside him restless. He clenched his jaw, trying to understand why it unsettled him so much. They were just rogues, weren't they?
With a frustrated sigh, Lucian ordered the driver to stop. The car pulled to the side of the road, dust swirling around them as the guards exchanged wary glances. Without explanation, he stepped out and opened the door, his gaze locking onto the girls. "Out. Now."
Raven and Ella hesitated, their eyes darting between each other before obeying, stepping onto the dirt road with shaky legs. The crisp air did little to ease their panic, their bodies still tense, waiting for whatever punishment was to come next.
Lucian folded his arms, his gray eyes steady as they rested on them. He could feel his wolf stirring, but he ignored it. "You are not prisoners. You are not going to be executed. You are safe."
"Why would you save us? We are rogues. No one saves rogues, Your Majesty," she whispered, her voice full of sorrow, as if she had given up all hope in life.
Lucian clenched his jaw, his wolf bristling at the sheer despair in her tone. He had heard many plead for their lives, had seen countless faces twisted in fear, but this was different. This was not a plea for mercy, not a desperate attempt to bargain—this was resignation. A girl who had already accepted death and could not fathom why it had been denied her.
Something deep inside him recoiled at the thought. He shouldn't care—he had no reason to—but the idea of her believing she was worth nothing made his wolf snarl in defiance. He hated it. Hated the idea that someone had stripped away even the smallest glimmer of hope from her soul. And worse, he hated how much it affected him. Why did it matter? She was just a rogue. A nobody. And yet, the pain in her voice twisted inside him, igniting something he couldn't yet name.
Lucian felt something inside him ease as the girls agreed to come with him instead. Relief. The feeling was foreign to him, and he couldn't understand why it mattered so much that these two lowly rogues had chosen to stay. His wolf settled, pleased in a way that made no sense. There was something about Raven, something that went beyond mere obligation, and it was beginning to unsettle him.
Upon arriving at the Lycan Kingdom, Lucian wasted no time in assigning them a place, though his mind wavered with an uncharacteristic hesitation. He was always decisive, always certain of his actions, yet something about this moment gnawed at him. Was it concern? Possessiveness? He quickly pushed the thought aside, unwilling to dwell on the strange emotions bubbling within him. It was his duty to oversee his kingdom, to ensure order—but why did it feel like something far more personal when it came to Raven? Was he being too protective? Too involved? He justified his decision, reminding himself that they were merely two fragile rogues who needed to be monitored. Yet, as he gave his orders, a strange sensation coiled in his chest, making it difficult to ignore the weight of his own actions. He led them into the castle and introduced them to the head maid, an older woman with sharp eyes but a kind demeanor. "These two are new," Lucian stated with authority. "They will work here. Get them cleaned up and changed into proper clothing."
The head maid nodded and gestured for them to follow, but before they could move, Lucian interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Ella, you will change with another maid elsewhere. Raven stays here."
A tense silence filled the air. Raven's stomach twisted in dread. Her pulse raced as she turned to face him. "P-Please, Your Majesty..." she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. Fear gripped her.
Lucian's eyes narrowed. "Undress."
Tears burned in Raven's eyes, her breathing unsteady. She had endured horrors before, but this—
"Now."
Her hands trembled as she reached for the tattered fabric of her dress, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. She could barely breathe, her thoughts racing in frantic, panicked spirals. Was this it? Had she misjudged his intentions? Every fiber of her being screamed to run, but there was nowhere to go. She had endured unspeakable torment before, but this felt different—this felt worse because it carried the weight of the unknown. A lump formed in her throat, terror thick and suffocating as she fought to steady herself. If she refused, she knew there would be consequences. But if she obeyed, what awaited her? But the moment her back was exposed, Lucian's sharp intake of breath filled the room. His wolf stirred violently, and before she could react, an earth-shattering howl erupted from him, shaking the very walls of the castle. The force of it sent the entire kingdom into a stunned silence.
Darius rushed in, eyes wide as he saw his King in a near-feral state. "Lucian! Control yourself!"
But Lucian couldn't. His wolf clawed for dominance, roaring in outrage at the sight of Raven's wounds. Every scar, every lash mark burned into her skin sent him spiraling into a fury he couldn't contain. He had known pain, had seen suffering—but this? His mate had endured torment beyond comprehension.
Darius acted fast, grabbing Lucian by the arm and pulling him back. "You need to step out. Now."
Lucian's fists clenched, his entire body vibrating with an uncontrollable fury. His breathing was ragged, his vision clouded by the red haze of his wolf's rage. Every instinct demanded retribution, to find and tear apart whoever had inflicted such suffering on his mate. The urge to claim, to protect, to destroy was overwhelming, but Darius's firm grip on his arm grounded him.
"Lucian! Control yourself!" Darius's voice was sharp, urgent.
Lucian's chest heaved as he fought against the primal need clawing inside him. His claws had already elongated, his canines aching to shift. He could feel his wolf pushing forward, howling for justice, demanding he take Raven and shield her from everything that had ever harmed her. But he couldn't—couldn't terrify her more than she already was.
With a final, shuddering breath, he let Darius yank him out of the room, slamming the door behind them. He leaned against the wall, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair, still struggling to contain himself.
Inside, Raven remained frozen, her heart racing, her body refusing to move. She had never seen such raw emotion from anyone before—especially not from someone as powerful as the Lycan King. The memory of his howling rage echoed in her ears, leaving her more confused than ever.
Ella rushed to her, wrapping her arms around Raven's shaking form. Raven stiffened at first, her mind still reeling from what had just happened. The memory of Lucian's wild, uncontrollable howl echoed in her ears, and she couldn't shake the image of the raw fury in his golden eyes. Was he angry at her? At what had been done to her? And why did his reaction stir something in her chest that she couldn't name?
She wanted to feel safe in Ella's embrace, but confusion gripped her too tightly. "Ella... w-what just happened?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Ella tightened her grip, pressing a comforting hand to Raven's back. "I don't know," she admitted. "But whatever it was... it wasn't nothing." "Are you okay?" she whispered, eyes wide with concern.
But Raven barely heard her, her thoughts spinning as she stared at the door Lucian had disappeared through. What had just happened? And why did it feel like the entire world had shifted in that moment?
As the days passed in the Lycan Kingdom, Lucian became more protective of Raven. His watchful gaze followed her in ways he didn't quite understand, his wolf growing restless whenever she was out of sight. He tried to rationalize it—she was a fragile rogue who had endured far too much, and perhaps his protective instincts were simply a result of that. But the way his wolf snarled whenever she flinched, or the way his pulse quickened when she spoke, betrayed his own logic.
He found himself lingering in places where she was, his presence hovering like a silent guardian. Why did he care so much? Why did the sight of her bruised form stir something far deeper than pity? His wolf's restlessness was growing unbearable, and with each passing day, Lucian was beginning to realize that this pull, this need to ensure she was safe, wasn't just duty—it was something far more dangerous. One evening, as Lucian stood in his office, staring out at the courtyard where Raven was speaking quietly with Ella, his Beta cleared his throat.
"Your Majesty, something is off," his Beta remarked, his arms crossed as he leaned against the desk. "I've never seen you this... attached to anyone. Your wolf—he reacts too strongly to her pain, her presence."
Lucian scoffed, turning away from the window. "Don't be ridiculous. She's a rogue. A fragile thing that has seen too much suffering."
The Beta smirked knowingly. "Then why does your wolf pace every time she leaves the room? Why did he nearly take over when she winced from an old wound?"
Lucian opened his mouth to refute it, but the words died on his tongue. His breath hitched, a sudden rush of heat surging through his chest. His wolf stirred violently, a possessive growl rumbling low in his throat, barely contained. The weight of realization pressed down on him, his pulse hammering as if his body had recognized the truth before his mind could. His fingers twitched at his sides, his instincts screaming at him to act, to claim—to protect. The moment stretched, suffocating, as if the air itself had thickened around him. This couldn't be happening.
And yet, deep down, he knew. He had known from the moment he saw her. She was his. His breath hitched, and a sharp, unfamiliar pang shot through his chest. His wolf stirred violently, clawing at the edges of his consciousness, demanding to be acknowledged. The air in the room felt heavier, suffocating, as if something monumental had just shifted. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, struggling to steady his racing heart. The realization was impossible to ignore—his instincts screamed at him, the connection undeniable. And yet, he fought against it, unwilling to accept what was becoming painfully clear. His wolf stirred within him, a possessive growl rising in his chest. His Beta's words echoed in his mind, confirming what he had refused to acknowledge.
He had known since the moment he stopped that blade from taking her life. He had known from the way his wolf roared in fury when she had been whipped. And now, as the realization settled in his chest, his heart pounded with something unfamiliar.
She was his mate.
The revelation struck him with a force he hadn't been prepared for. The strongest Lycan, the King of their realm, was mated to a rogue—an orphaned, broken girl with eyes that shimmered like the deepest ocean, holding both sorrow and resilience. Her raven-black hair cascaded around her delicate face, catching the dim light in a way that made his breath hitch. There was something ethereal about her, something fragile yet unyielding. The contrast of her battered body and unwavering spirit sent a jolt of something unrecognizable through him. His wolf, no longer just restless but desperate, howled in triumph, claiming her in a way Lucian had never experienced before. And for the first time in his life, he felt utterly powerless against fate. His wolf howled in triumph, but Lucian could only stare in disbelief.
This wasn't possible. It wasn't supposed to happen. And yet, it had.
His mate. His fated one.
Weeks passed, and under Lucian's guidance, Raven and Ella grew stronger. Ella was the first to resurface her wolf, shifting with ease as though she had been waiting for the chance all along. Her wolf was agile, fierce, and full of pent-up strength she had never been allowed to unleash. The warriors and trainers were impressed by her rapid progress, her wolf responding as though it had always known it belonged among them.
Lucian had pushed them both hard, but with Raven, he had been relentless. He knew that if she didn't find her strength, she would always feel like she didn't belong. More than that, he needed her to understand her wolf—because if she did, she would realize the truth on her own. He had chosen not to tell her they were mates, believing it was something she had to feel, something she had to know. If he simply told her, it would mean nothing. But if her wolf recognized him, if she felt it in her bones, then there would be no denying it.
And so he waited, pushing her beyond her limits, knowing that the moment her wolf surfaced, she would understand everything.
Raven, however, struggled. Her wolf remained dormant, unwilling to surface despite the endless training and encouragement from Lucian. She fought hard, determined not to be left behind, but something inside her resisted. It was as if her wolf was waiting—for what, she didn't know.
Until the night it finally emerged.
Lucian had insisted she run alone beneath the full moon, urging her to let go of her fears and embrace her instincts. The wind rushed past her, the moonlight guiding her steps as she moved through the dense forest. Her breath came in ragged pants, her muscles burning from exertion. But something about this night felt different. The primal energy in the air, the sharp scent of the trees, the pull in her chest—it all felt like something inside her was on the verge of waking.
And then she felt it.
A force unlike anything before surged through her, her bones aching, her skin prickling with electricity. She stumbled forward, her vision shifting, the world spinning. Heat exploded inside her, and before she could stop it—she changed.
Her wolf was unlike any the pack had ever seen. Massive, towering over even the strongest warriors. Her fur was deep midnight black, with a faint silver sheen that glowed under the moonlight. She was powerful, unmistakably Lycan.
The gasps of those who had witnessed the transformation were swallowed by the silence of awe. Even Ella, who had cheered her on from the sidelines, was speechless.
And then came a presence behind her. Strong. Overwhelming. Familiar.
Lucian.
He had been watching, waiting for this moment. The sight of her wolf sent his own into a frenzy. His breath hitched, his wolf clawing at the surface, howling in triumph. The truth had never been clearer—she was his.
Before she could react, before she could comprehend what had just happened, Lucian stepped forward, his voice rough with restrained emotion.
"You feel it, don't you?" he murmured.
Raven shifted back, her body trembling from the force of the change, her mind reeling. She felt raw, exposed, her wolf still lingering beneath her skin.
Lucian reached for her, his touch grounding her as he whispered, "I've known for some time now. But I needed to be sure you were ready."
"Ready for what?" she asked breathlessly.
His gray eyes burned into hers. "To know the truth. You are my mate."
The world around her seemed to still. Her heart pounded against her ribs, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she processed his words. Mate. The pull she had felt, the unexplainable bond, the way his presence both soothed and overwhelmed her—it all made sense now.
"No…" she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. "That's not possible."
Lucian cupped her face, his touch both firm and gentle. "It is. And it has been from the moment I saw you."
Her lips parted, but no words came out. She didn't know what to say, how to react to something so monumental. But as she looked into his eyes, she felt the bond between them hum, undeniable, unbreakable.
Lucian leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers, his breath warm against her skin. His fingers brushed along her jawline, tracing the delicate curve of her face, his touch both reverent and possessive. The bond between them pulsed, alive and undeniable.
"Now, we make sure you never doubt your power again," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You are more than just my mate, Raven. You are meant to be my Queen. You are a Lycan."
Raven's breath shuddered, her heart hammering as the truth settled into her soul. The tension between them was electric, an unspoken need crackling in the space between their lips. Lucian's golden eyes darkened, his pupils dilating as his wolf rumbled in satisfaction, demanding what was rightfully his.
She felt herself being pulled toward him, as if drawn by an invisible force. Her hands, unsteady yet eager, rested against his chest, feeling the strong, steady rhythm of his heart beneath her palms. His warmth, his scent—everything about him consumed her senses.
"Lucian..." she whispered, but the rest of her words were lost as he closed the distance between them.
His lips captured hers in a deep, claiming kiss. It wasn't gentle—it was raw, filled with weeks of restrained longing, of unspoken truths and suppressed desire. His hand threaded into her hair, tilting her head back as he deepened the kiss, pouring every ounce of his emotions into it. A possessive growl vibrated against her lips, his need for her barely restrained, yet his touch was reverent, as if she were something sacred.
Raven melted against him, her body responding instinctively, her own wolf stirring beneath her skin, yearning for more. Her fingers tightened around his shirt, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.
When they finally broke apart, their breaths mingling in the cool night air, Lucian rested his forehead against hers once more.
"You are mine," he whispered, his voice raw, possessive, yet filled with an unspoken promise.
"And I am yours. Always."