*Year 1811, Lycandria Kingdom*
The five clan heads knelt.
A meeting this rare happened once in a lifetime. The day, King Draven Iravnov summoned them, one on one. They should have been honored.
But intstead, they looked like men at their own funeral.
Iwagar. Kezehana. Mizuhan. Ignisar. Arkai.
Earth. Wind. Water. Fire. Crafters.
The five pillars of Lycandria. Lycans whose ancestors carved the kingdom from mountain and blood. Now, they kept their eyes on the black marble stone floor and prayed the king was in a merciful mood.
He never was.
"Your Highness."
The silence broke like glass.
Lord Hadrion, Head of the Iwagar Earth Clan, rose to his feet. His long, straight brown hair fell past his waist, silver streaking through it. His green eyes were sharp despite the centuries weighing on his bones. He was the only one foolish… or brave…enough to speak first.
"It's been four and a half years since the Seer's prophecy was made." Hadrion's voice did not shake. "And we've not heard a word from you."
No one breathed.
"We would like to know what's been done about the matter, Your Royal Highness." Hadrion's gaze locked on the throne. "The clans are waiting. Lycandria is dying."
King Draven Iravnov did not answer.
He lounged against the cushioned throne, one elbow on the armrest, chin resting on his knuckles. His black hair fell over one eye, messy, as if this meeting bored him.
A maid knelt at his feet. His boot rested on her thigh while she massaged his calf through silk trousers. Another maid stood rigid beside the throne, a silver tray in her hands. On it, a single wine glass.
The liquid inside was red.
And it pulsed.
Slow. Steady. Like a heartbeat not its own.
The silence stretched until Lord Kezehana, Head of the Wind Clan, dug his claws into his own palm to keep from fidgeting. Until Lord Arkai, Head of the Crafter Clan and the youngest at barely nine hundred years, began to sweat.
Finally, Draven's claws clicked against the armrest. _Tap. Tap. Tap._
A slow, lazy rhythm that made every lycan in the room want to crawl out of their skin.
"Four and a half years," Draven murmured. His voice was soft. Amused even. "Exactly how long we've been waiting."
His head tilted. Ice-green eyes, colder than the northern mountains, slid from the floor to Hadrion.
He smiled. It never reached his eyes.
"Tell me, Lord Hadrion." Draven reached out and plucked the glass from the tray without looking. The maid did not flinch. She'd learned not to. "The Seer spoke of the Golden Rose and the Auric Thorn. Is that the only reason you dragged your old bones to my castle? To ask me about a bed time story?"
Hadrion's jaw tightened. He glanced at Lord Mizuhan, Head of the Water Clan, for support.
The older male stared at the wall.
No one helped the man who put his neck in the king's jaws first.
Hadrion exhaled and faced Draven again. If he was going to die, it would be for his people. For Earth. For Lycandria. "Your Highness. It's been over four centuries since the death of your mate."
The temperature in the throne room plummeted.
Frost crawled across the black marble. The maid at Draven's feet stopped breathing. The wine in his glass stopped pulsing.
"The kingdom has not been the same since," Hadrion forced out. Each word felt like swallowing knives. "The Earth Clan cannot make crops grow. The Water Clan's rivers are dry. The Wind Clan's skies give no rain. The Fire Clan's forges burn cold. Even the Crafters of Arkai cannot shape life from dead stone. We've not seen rain in four hundred years, Your Highness. Four centuries."
Draven's smile vanished.
That was the first warning.
"The Seer's prophecy spoke of her return," Hadrion pressed on, voice dropping to a whisper. "The Golden Rose. Your mate. If she's back, we expect you to—"
"One more word about her from you, Lord Hadrion," Draven said, deadly quiet, "and I will bury your body so deep even your clan's ghost won't recognize you."
No one doubted him.
King Draven Iravnov looked no older than twenty-six. He had worn that face for five hundred years. A child, compared to them. But he'd ended the Great Clan War in three days. He'd painted Lycandria's borders red with the blood of alphas who thought him weak.
His smiles were never kind. They were always mockery, wrapped in velvet.
This was not mockery.
This was a promise.
Lord Hadrion's knees almost buckled. But Earth did not kneel to fear. "Your Highness," he tried again, desperation bleeding through. "What I meant is that the Golden Rose has returned. The Seer confirmed it. We only ask that you bring your mate home, so Lycandria can—"
"You had five minutes." Draven cut him off, finally looking at all five of them. Really looking. His gaze was a blade, flaying them open. Earth. Wind. Water. Fire. Crafters. "One minute for each clan. If you understood that, we wouldn't have a problem."
He stood.
The maids scrambled back, heads bowed. The shadows in the throne room stretched, too long, too dark, as if the night itself answered him.
"Now." Draven's voice was still soft. That was what made it terrifying. "Leave."
The five clan heads looked at each other. A thousand years of pride warred with survival. Survival won.
One by one, they bowed and backed toward the massive doors. Lord Arkai was shaking. Lord Ignisar of the Fire Clan wouldn't meet Draven's eyes.
They were ancient. Powerful. Heads of the elements themselves. And they fled from the king like prey.
When the doors slammed shut, the silence was absolute.
Draven stared at the space Hadrion had stood. His claws had gouged deep grooves into the armrest. Black veins, thick as ink, crawled up his neck before he forced them down.
Slowly, he lifted the glass. The red liquid began to pulse again, frantic now, recognizing its master's rage.
He took a sip. It did nothing to drown the chaos in his head.
Four and a half years. The exact time since the Seer bled the prophecy onto the temple floor before Draven snapped her neck.
When the Golden Rose blooms under the Blood Moon, the kingdom will heal. But beware the Auric Thorn… for not all that glitters is gold, and the false mate will bring ruin.
He'd killed the Seer for it. He'd killed everyone who dared speak of her.
Because Adeline Iravnov, his Golden Rose, had been dead for four hundred years.
He'd buried her himself.
He'd put her ashes in that glass.
So why, for the first time in four centuries, did his dead heart stutter in his chest?
And why did the word "Auric Thorn" taste like a lie on the Seer's tongue, even as she died?
"Adeline…" Draven's whisper scraped the empty throne room raw. His fingers tightened until the glass cracked. "If you're really back… which one are you?"
Outside, thunder rolled across Lycandria for the first time in four hundred years.
And somewhere, a girl with a rose-shaped birthmark woke up screaming.
While in another pack house, a girl with golden eyes smiled.
- - - -
Note Before You Read
1. The book is going to have mature content, and it has been warned! Any advance warning for smut will not be giving. If you are sensitive to such content or under 18, you should skip this book (..,.^~^..,)
2. The book is a werewolf and Lycan story with a blend of both history and urban setting with my own special word building which I will clearly explain in the book review as I write. However, I would like you all to use Regency era as a reference to help you all clearly see the picture (e.g, the dressing sense, buildings, objects, royal settings, architectural structure and so on).
3. If you have anything to ask me, feel free to ask in the discord where there are readers who share same interest. To join discord: the link is at the end of this note.
4. The book will be updated from Sunday to Thursday. If I have time like some of you might have seen in my bio, I'm a student so expect to see bonus chapters or mass release when I'm chanced or too happy :)
5. Be mindful and polite to other readers and your author when you leave the comments. Most importantly, I would appreciate you leave a comment on every chapter. ^_^.
6. You can show your support by voting for the book with your powerstones and gifting the book which will help in ranking of the book on the site. For every vote cast, there will be an increase of chapters update. So don't deprive me of your votes.
7. I made a Spotify playlist for all the songs recommended in the book for easy accessibility. It's titled. The Lycan's Queen. Feel free to listen to it when reading if you want.
8. Do not read the SYNOPSIS, I repeat, do not read the synopsis. This book is so much more than any synopsis can reveal to tempt you, it's a well articulated book that's fresh out of my imagination.
Few points:
— This is my second novel on the WebNovel platform! (Hurray!)
— The ml lead's entrance in the book is not until chapter 22. At first the beginning of the story, the ML will not be perfect, and he would be faulty even towards the end because no one's perfect but like I have warned before, the Ml is very twisted eviler than any other ml in a book. So you just have to be patient with him and watch him make mistake, learn, grow.
— Ml has another soul bound to him, a fragment of his own soul, a raven who is temperamental, extremelyjealous, possessive, selfish. You probably won't like him much, but please cheer for him because this book can only exist with him.
Thank you for Reading!
Comments and reviews are very much appreciated!
Of course, check out my other novels
*Hellbound With The Vampire King (Fantasy Romance)
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