Mated to the Lycan King.

Ava's POV

It was pouring. Heavily.

My peach-colored dress was soaked, and my phone kept vibrating in my pocket.

I stood there, watching from a distance as the blood of my parents mixed with the rainwater that filled the streets. My eyes drifted to the car, still open. I could see my mom's hand, limp, hanging from the side. I started walking toward it, my legs feeling like lead. I didn't dare get too close. My voice came out as a whisper, shaky, barely audible, "Mom, mommy... are you... are you okay?"

My dad's lifeless body lay flat on the floor, his eyes wide in shock as blood from his severed head pooled beneath him. My heart raced, terror creeping through me, but I couldn't shift into my wolf form. I just kept mumbling, "Daddy, Dad... please wake up! Mom! Don't leave me! Somebody, anybody, help!"

But my heart remained calm. Too calm. My body felt numb, detached from everything. I blinked twice, hoping-praying-that I was hallucinating. Maybe this was just some twisted illusion. The popcorn in my hand had long since gone soggy, the paper probably melting into the wet mess. Without thinking, I shoved a handful of the soggy popcorn into my mouth.

Bitter.

The exact taste of what my future now held.

"Mom... Dad, why aren't you coming over?" My voice cracked, a sharp pain stabbing my heart for a few moments.

I wondered, deep down, if I felt numb because I didn't love them enough or because the pain was too much for me to handle after witnessing everything. I had watched as a wolf ripped into my father's neck and tore his head clean off. Then it sniffed the car, like it was searching for something.

It was supposed to be a normal Saturday movie night. I remembered just an hour earlier, smiling in the mirror, dressed in my short off-shoulder black gown. Mom had been laughing, helping me tie my blonde hair into a ponytail.

"Mommy," I'd called.

"Yes, honey?" she answered.

"Do you think I'll find a mate, like you and Dad?"

She laughed, planting a kiss on my forehead. "Of course, sweetie. You're mommy and daddy's little princess, and you're a beautiful gem. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Thanks, mommy." I blushed.

"You're welcome, honey. Now, let's go before Dad gets upset."

We never missed our Saturday movie tradition... except for tonight. And now, I hated that tradition.

I couldn't even remember how I got to the hospital. I must have stood there long enough for my body to go numb under the rain. The last thing I recalled was Aunt Janet's voice, pleading with the doctor: "Doc, please save her, she's all I've got!" And then the red lights of the ambulance... before I blacked out.

When I woke up, three hours had passed. I found Aunt Janet huddled in the corner of the hospital room, silently crying. Her body curled into a ball, her hand patting her chest as if trying to calm herself.

Suddenly, everything came rushing back to me, like a movie replaying in my head. Every single detail.

"Ahhhh!" I screamed, jumping out of the bed and yanking the drip from my arm.

Aunt Janet rushed to my side, trying to hug me, trying to comfort me. But I pushed her away, screaming louder. They were gone. Dead. And I would never see them again.

"Bring them back! Bring them back to me!" I screamed until my throat felt raw.

The doctors and nurses flooded into the room, trying to calm me, but I hurled everything I could get my hands on at them.

"Don't touch me! Bring them back! I want my momma back!" My wolf was on the verge of breaking free. If I'd had a smooth first shift, I might've let her go. Let her tear apart anyone like they'd done to my father. Let them feel the same pain that now coursed through my veins.

"Bring them..." I felt something sharp prick my arm. My vision blurred, and I couldn't make out the doctor's face before my consciousness slipped away. I vaguely heard the doctor's slurred words to my aunt.

"She's too shocked to process what happened. She'll need help."

Two months later.

Grieving isn't something that can be fixed with a magic wand.

If it were, I'd have chosen that option in a heartbeat.

As I crossed the street to our house, I wiped my nose and pulled my coat tighter around me. The past two months had been filled with therapy sessions, helping me come to terms with the loss. It wasn't easy, but it was helping, at least a little.

"Aunt?" I called out as I stepped inside the house. The smell of something delicious wafted from the kitchen. I followed it, finding Aunt Janet fussing with the oven. "What magical concoction are you making?"

"Just cake. I found this amazing recipe online." She finally turned toward me, concern in her eyes. "How was therapy?"

I forced a smile, nodding. "It's working. You were right; therapy helps."

"Good. That's progress." She smiled softly. "Go change and come help me."

"I'll be back in a minute."

Aunt Janet had been incredible since I lost my parents. She stayed with me at the hospital, helped me through the darkest nights, and introduced me to therapy. I was grateful, but nothing seemed to truly help.

Well, it helped me build a facade. One I wore for her and for my therapist.

As I headed to my room, I passed my dad's study. I couldn't resist stepping inside. Aunt Janet had kept everything spotless, as if Dad would return any moment. I ran my fingers over the papers on his desk.

My dad had been a journalist, and my mom had stayed home because of her health. My eyes landed on his journal, the one he always kept close. Smiling, I picked it up and flipped through it. Some notes were too cryptic, but others I understood.

Then, I stopped on a page.

The word Lyconia was circled, surrounded by missing persons reports and mentions of 'unnatural deaths.' Dad's conclusion was clear: there were more werewolves in the city than anyone knew.

I remembered the stories my parents used to tell me about Lyconia, their hometown. Dad was an Alpha before they moved to Alabama. That place had always intrigued me.

Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. If Lyconia was my father's origin, then maybe I should visit. Maybe that would help me heal. And maybe, just maybe, I could find answers about their deaths.

I closed the journal, tucking it into my bag. Aunt Janet would never let me go, so I kept it to myself. After dinner, I pretended to go to bed, then snuck out with a few essentials.

Five hours later, I arrived in Lyconia. My heart pounded. This was my father's home. The town where he had been an Alpha. The place where I might find answers.

I checked Dad's journal again. Clawcrest. That's where we belonged. With a bit of help, I made my way to Clawcrest Ville.

As I approached the sign, I saw a man standing nearby. I walked up to him, trying to mask my nervousness with a smile.

"Good morning."

The man gave me a once-over, his gaze sharp. "And you are?"

"Ava. Ava Goldington. My father used to be Alpha here."

His expression darkened. He called out loudly, "Yo, Matthew! We've got another one."

A bulky man appeared from a nearby house. "Who is she?"

"Goldington something. Says her father was Alpha here."

Matthew stepped closer, sniffing the air around me. "Definitely one of us, though her scent is weak."

I took a step back, deciding not to mention that I wasn't in control of my wolf yet. "Can I meet the Alpha?"

Matthew nodded. "Sure."

The first man looked surprised. "Just like that?"

"There's no harm in her meeting the Alpha, right?" Matthew gestured for me to get in his car.

Even though he was being polite, something felt off. Had I just walked into a trap?

Ava's POV

Matthew was definitely a man of few words. As I sat in the passenger seat, the silence between us was palpable. The town seemed to grow more unfamiliar the deeper we went, with streets twisting and turning into areas I didn't recognize.

I couldn't help but break the silence. "So... the new Alpha, what family is he from?"

He gave me a brief side glance, the corner of his lips tugging upward, but that was the most reaction I got. "You can ask him that when you see him."

"Are the four packs still united?" I tried again, hoping to get more out of him.

This time, he chuckled lightly. "I see you were told stories. Yes. Still very united." He didn't look at me again after that, his focus solely on the road. The conversation hit a dead end, and I took it as a sign to stop asking questions. He clearly wasn't interested.

Eventually, we arrived at a huge mansion, and I climbed out of the car, gripping my bag tightly as I followed him. The mansion was intimidating, and I couldn't help but notice the curious stares from people around. Some pointed, others whispered. Their eyes seemed to pierce right through me.

When we finally stood in front of the Alpha, I was surprised. He wasn't what I had expected. He was young, maybe in his mid-thirties, with striking salt-and-pepper hair and cold blue eyes that seemed to see right into my soul.

"Daughter of Goldington, huh?" His voice was cold and commanding.

"Yes, Alpha," I replied, trying my best to keep my composure.

"And what brings you here? Your ancestors have long left."

The mention of my ancestors brought back the pain of my parents' deaths. My throat tightened, and I fought back the tears as I explained how they were brutally murdered. The Alpha listened with a frown etched on his face.

"And you stood by and watched?" His words hit me like a punch to the gut. "Your wolf didn't feel the need to change despite the danger?"

I shook my head, struggling to explain myself, but I could feel the shame washing over me. A werewolf my age should have control over their wolf. It was an unspoken rule, and I couldn't even meet his gaze as I stared at my fingers, willing myself not to cry.

He stepped closer, his smirk unsettling. "You can't control it, can you?" His taunting voice echoed in my ears.

I felt Matthew's eyes on me, disbelief clear in his expression. "You can't freely transition?" His shock made me feel even smaller, and all I could do was shake my head, feeling utterly exposed.

The Alpha hissed, making me flinch. "Quite the show," Matthew muttered under his breath.

The Alpha raised his hand, silencing the whispers around us. He looked at me with a cunning smile. "Ava is the daughter of an ex-Alpha, and we will treat her with the respect she deserves, regardless of how little control she has over her wolf. Even though we all know that's something to be ashamed of." His words were like venom, stinging my pride. I felt a wave of regret for coming to Lyconia at all.

A lady was assigned to show me to a room, but her disdain was palpable. She led me to a small, dingy room at the back of the mansion. Dust and cobwebs covered everything, and the faint smell of decay lingered in the air. I was about to ask when it would be cleaned, but before I could say a word, she slammed the door, leaving me alone.

I stood there, staring at the filthy room, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. Maybe they just needed time to adjust to me. Or maybe they judged me solely based on my lack of control over my wolf.

The days dragged on. A week had passed, and I still hadn't spoken to anyone. People avoided me as if I carried some contagious disease. I wandered outside the town one day and saw groups of women glaring at me, pointing and whispering. Their hatred was unmistakable, and I couldn't understand why. What had I done?

When I tried to befriend the people at the mansion, I was shunned. Some even spat in my direction. When I brought it up to the Alpha, he only shrugged, making it clear he had no interest in helping me. "I can't force them to like you," he had said, as though my situation was inconsequential.

I spotted Matthew one day, talking to a group of men. Relief washed over me. He had brought me here; maybe he could help explain why everyone despised me. Gathering my courage, I approached him.

"Excuse me, Matthew?" I called out softly, tucking my hair behind my ear.

He turned and dismissed the men before looking at me. "Yes, how may I help you?"

"Well, I've noticed something strange since I got here. No one seems to like me. No one talks to me, and they all look at me with such hatred in their eyes." I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. "Did I do something wrong when I came here, or was it something my parents did?"

Matthew cleared his throat, his expression turning serious. "Listen carefully, Ava. No, it's not something your father did. Yes, it is you, and we all despise you."

His words felt like a slap in the face. "We...?" My voice broke, the familiar bitter taste rising in my throat.

"Yes, we," he continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "You watched your father, the ex-Alpha, get killed in cold blood, and you and your wolf could do nothing. You can't even control your transition at twenty-two. And according to werewolf myths, anyone past eighteen who can't control their wolf is considered evil. You must've done something horrible in a past life, and now, anyone who associates with you risks being tainted by your bad luck."

I tried to protest, to tell him I wasn't evil, but he cut me off.

"Don't. Who's to say your bad luck didn't destroy your parents?"

With that, he turned away, rejoining the men, who were laughing loudly. Probably at my expense.

I wandered aimlessly after that, Matthew's words replaying in my mind. The memories of my parents' deaths came flooding back, suffocating me. I dropped to my knees, gasping for breath, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

Matthew's words had shattered whatever hope I had left. Maybe they were right. Maybe I was cursed. I'd brought nothing but misery to Aunt Janet, who had to give up her job just to make sure I didn't spiral.

I forced myself to breathe, using the techniques my therapist had taught me. Slowly, my breath evened out, and I wiped my eyes with my sleeves. Determined to make a change, I headed for the forest, hoping I could finally summon my wolf. If I could control it, maybe I could change how everyone saw me.

But as I entered the forest, a strange scent caught my attention. It was both familiar and foreign. Curious, I followed the scent until I saw him-a man, loading a gun with silver bullets. His back was to me, and I hid behind a tree, watching him.

He was tall, muscular, with a dark buzz cut. His movements were smooth, his muscles rippling as he handled the bullets. When he turned around, my heart raced. His sharp jawline, clean-shaven face, and piercing black eyes made my pulse quicken. My body responded in ways I didn't understand.

'What's wrong with me?' I thought, confused by the sudden heat rising in me.

It was as if my wolf was trying to break free, desperate to reach him.

'Relax. I know he's handsome, but we can't just-'

"Is someone there?" he called out, his voice deep and commanding. He raised his gun and pointed it toward the trees, walking in my direction.

My heart pounded in my chest as butterflies filled my stomach.

'Mate!' my wolf growled inside my head, and I froze in shock.

'Mate?' Could it really be?

Excited, I stepped out from behind the tree with a sheepish smile, raising my hands to show I meant no harm. There were only a few steps between us now, and his gaze hardened as he frowned slightly.

His gun still pointed at me, and he seemed more confused than anything, watching me with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

Ava's POV

Horland had never seen me before, and it could only mean one of two things.

One, I might have come to town in search of supernatural creatures. After all, rumors about this place ran rampant beyond its borders, and the name of the town only fueled them.

Two, I was new here, and judging by his guarded expression, the latter was more likely.

The town rarely had new people, but I'd heard there were a few. A male from the Commoners pack, a wandering werewolf taken in, and then... the weird Goldington girl. The one who was me.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice deep, measured, though there was something else behind it. A strange pull that mirrored my own. My heart was beating faster now, and I could tell his senses were just as heightened as mine.

I took a step forward, trying to steady myself, and looked at the gun still aimed in my direction. "Can you drop the gun, please? It's kind of scary," I asked, forcing a boldness into my voice that I didn't quite feel.

He didn't answer at first, hiding the gun behind his back. His eyes swept over me, his expression cautious, as if he were evaluating something. He could probably tell I was one of them by my scent, though I knew it was faint. I wasn't sure why, but I had always struggled to hide or control my wolf's essence.

His heart seemed to race, and I could sense it. His wolf, just like mine, was threatening to break free. That's when I realized what this was.

The sudden realization hit me as his animalistic growl echoed in the clearing.

'Mate!' My wolf howled inside me, and I could feel the bond, as confusing as it was. I barely knew him, and yet, my entire being yearned for him.

"I... I just realized-" I began, trying to make sense of the pull.

"That we are mates?" he finished for me, stepping forward with a knowing glint in his eyes. There was no denying it now, the connection was undeniable. His presence pulled at something deep within me.

He introduced himself, "Horland Green."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling the pressure of the moment. "Ava Goldington," I replied, trying to remain composed.

At the mention of my name, he froze, his demeanor instantly changing. His gaze darkened, and any softness or curiosity that had been there moments ago disappeared.

"The abomination?" he spat the words, his voice dripping with disgust, and I felt my heart shatter in that single breath.

"No, that's not true! I can explain-" I tried to defend myself, but he raised his hand, silencing me before I could finish.

"I'd rather be mateless than be tied to someone like you," he sneered, taking a step back, his entire body radiating rejection.

The pain of his words hit me harder than I expected. It was a cruel slap from reality, and all the hope I had been clinging to since finding out he was my mate crumbled before me.

Desperate, I took a step forward, trying to make him see-feel-what I was feeling, but he pulled the gun back out, aiming it at me with cold eyes.

"One more step, and I won't hesitate to shoot. These bullets are silver," he said, his voice cold, the warning clear.

My heart ached, my mind reeled, and for the first time in a long time, I felt truly, utterly rejected. Without a word, I turned and ran, leaving behind the possibility of any connection.

But I wasn't one to give up easily.

I decided I would visit him every day, force him to see me, understand me. I knew the mate bond was strong, stronger than myths or prejudice. So, I cooked for him, dressed up, and made my way back to the forest, determined to win him over.

When I reached the clearing, he was standing with a group of men. They stopped talking the moment they noticed me, and Horland immediately facepalmed, as though I were nothing but an annoying nuisance.

"Hello," I greeted him, hoping for a small chance to break through.

"I told you not to come here again," he replied, his tone as hard as ever.

I ignored it and stepped forward, holding out the lunchbox I had prepared. "You haven't even given us a chance yet."

The men with him looked between us, clearly confused by my persistence.

Horland waved them off dismissively. "She thinks she's my mate," he explained to them with a sigh. Without warning, he grabbed the lunchbox from my hands and threw it deep into the forest. "I made myself clear. Never come here again."

The rejection hit harder than before, but I held back my tears, refusing to be seen as weak. I turned around and left, my heart heavier with each step.

Over the next few days, I tried again. And again. But no matter what I did, Horland despised me more with each attempt. Eventually, I gave up. I couldn't force him to accept me. All I could do was hope for a quiet existence in this pack, despite the constant rejection and the whispers of "abomination" that followed me.

Then the second full moon came. I had spent the entire week preparing for my second transition, determined to show everyone I was not what they thought. The pain was unbearable, but I succeeded. I shifted, howling at the moon, only for the other wolves to back away, their eyes filled with the same disgust I had come to expect.

After shifting back, weak and exhausted, I heard the screams.

I barely had the strength to move, but I knew something was wrong. Crawling toward the sounds, I saw chaos unfolding. Wolves were tearing into each other, bodies littered the ground, and those still in human form were being slaughtered before they could shift.

Realizing I was in danger, I ran, my body too weak to fight, my mind too clouded to think clearly. I grabbed my father's journal from my room and fled through the northern gate into the forest, the sound of growls closing in behind me.

I knew I couldn't outrun them. A wolf caught up to me, throwing me against a tree with brutal force. My vision blurred as I tried to stand, my body too weak to respond.

This was it. I was going to die.

But then, something happened.

The wolf attacking me was suddenly thrown aside by a powerful force, and through my fading vision, I saw a pair of white eyes. I couldn't make out the face, but the aura surrounding the figure was comforting, familiar, and warm.

A hand reached out, gently touching my forehead, and before I succumbed to unconsciousness, I managed a small smile.

Maybe I had found my light in the darkness after all.