From Rejected Mate To Lycan Queen: His Downfall

I walked alone along the long, winding path back home, the cool evening air brushing against my skin. My mind couldn’t help but drift back to *that* day.

After the storm of passion had settled, Vincent Kelly, the Lycan King, sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers lazily tying the laces of his shirt. His voice was low, almost casual, as he asked, "Which pack do you belong to?"

I clutched the sheets tightly, not daring to look up. "The Blue Pack. Adelina Wallace."

He paused, as if trying to place the name. "Braylon Wallace’s daughter?"

My father, Braylon, had risen from humble beginnings, a Delta who worked his way up to become the Beta of the Blue Pack through sheer determination. My aunt, Monroe Ward, had once been the favored mate of the previous Lycan King. Our family had known glory—briefly.

But after my parents passed away and my aunt fell out of favor, the Wallace name had lost its luster.

Vincent’s gaze lingered on me, calm and assessing. He didn’t ask why I had been the one to drink the ceremonial wine meant for pack gatherings, nor did he question how I had bypassed the guards to end up in his private quarters. Instead, he simply asked, "Were you ever promised to another?"

I had come of age three years ago, and by then, most females in the pack were either betrothed or already mated.

I smiled faintly, a hint of shyness in my voice. "No, I wasn’t."

It wasn’t a lie.

Rome Mason had made it clear himself: "It was just a passing comment from my mother. It meant nothing."

In recent years, his family had been actively seeking a suitable mate for him, and it was no secret.

Vincent’s lips curved slightly, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. "I’ll have the pack seer choose an auspicious day for the marking ceremony. Go home and wait for my decree."

He stood, slipping into his jacket, the fabric embroidered with intricate patterns of silver and gold that shimmered under the light. My eyes lingered on the metallic threads, momentarily lost in thought.

Vincent had someone escort me home.

As I sat in the car, my hands still trembling slightly, I felt the weight of what I had done settle over me. I had taken a gamble—a dangerous one. One wrong move, and I could have lost everything, even my life.

But it seemed I had bet correctly.

Vincent was pleased with me.

He was still relatively young, though he had already named Rome Mason as his heir under pressure from the pack elders. But he was far from old, and he had years ahead of him.

His den was empty, save for me, and no one would dare challenge my place now.

As I thought about it, tears began to fall, unbidden.

The days of being targeted by my father’s enemies, of being looked down upon by those who had once called themselves friends—those days were over.

The scent of pine and musk, Vincent’s natural aroma, still lingered on my skin, a reminder of the bond we had begun to forge. It was intoxicating, a mix of dominance and warmth that I couldn’t shake.

When I finally arrived home, the house was quiet. My aunt Monroe was nowhere to be found, likely off tending to her duties as a healer in the pack. I retreated to my room, the weight of the day pressing down on me.

I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing. The marking ceremony would come soon, and with it, a new life. A life where I would no longer be Adelina Wallace, the orphaned daughter of a Beta. I would be Adelina, the future Lycan Queen.

The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying.

As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly what I wanted, or if I had simply been swept up in the allure of power and the promise of safety.

But for now, I would take it. Because in this world, survival was everything, and I had fought too hard to let it slip away.