Pet of the Ruthless lycan king

I felt my head hit hard on the brick behind me as my mum pushed me. I expected it to come from their previous reactions but what I didn't expect was that it would hurt this much.

I could read the hate and disappointment on their faces as they kicked me out in the dead of the night, I wept trying to get their sympathy, they were my family after all but it seemed all hope was lost.

"We don't need a practical human to bring us bad luck" my mother said as she threw a stick at me to chase me away like I was some animal.

I waited a while to see if there was any hope but I was disappointed as they all turned around and left me alone.

I saw this coming when I lasted this long in the pack not being able to change since my 18th birthday and I was now 21.

After wandering a while into the forest I became very scared realizing I was all alone at the mercy of the harsh forest, there had been reports of people disappearing in that same forest and there I was.

I spotted a group of men from far away and hid. I knew at once that they were king Lucien's men The ruthless Lycan king who had been taking people.

I tried to run away when one of them looked in my direction but I eventually fell down.

I struggled to push myself up from the dirt as the men closed in around me. My heart pounded, each beat a reminder that I was alone and far from the safety of my pack-if they had ever been my safety at all. "What do we have here?" one of the men sneered, his voice laced with mocking amusement. I felt his eyes roam over me, lingering longer than I liked.

I tried to stand but stumbled, my legs weak from fear and exhaustion. The group circled me like vultures, their presence as oppressive as the thick air of the forest. "She would fit perfectly as a nice tribute for the King," another man said, stepping closer and gripping my arm tightly. I flinched, his touch cold and unyielding.

They didn't give me a choice. With swift motions, they bound my wrists with rope, pulling me to my feet and forcing me along a path that led deeper into the forest. My head swam with terror, but I bit my lip to keep from crying. I had cried enough for one night.

The trees seemed to close in on me as we walked, the branches clawing at my clothes like ghostly fingers. My mind raced, trying to think of a way to escape, but with each step, the reality of my situation sank in deeper. I was being taken to King Lucien's palace-his prison, more like it. There was no escape from a Lycan king, especially not one as ruthless as Lucien.

Hours later, I was dragged before King Lucien. His throne room was vast and intimidating, with high ceilings and walls adorned with the spoils of countless wars. The man himself sat atop a raised platform, his dark eyes fixed on me with an unsettling intensity. He was every bit as imposing as I heard at home said-tall, with sharp features and a presence that made my blood run cold.

"What is this?" His voice was deep and filled with authority. The men who had captured me shoved me forward, and I stumbled, falling to my knees before him.

"A stray, my Lord," one of the guards said. "Found her wandering the forest. She hasn't shifted."

Lucien's eyes narrowed, and I felt his gaze burn into me. I wanted to scream, to beg for mercy, but I held my tongue. "She hasn't shifted?" he repeated, his tone curious. "Interesting."

I forced myself to meet his gaze, though it took everything I had not to look away. His expression was unreadable, and for a moment, the room was filled with a heavy silence. Then, without a word, he gestured to one of his men.

"She will serve in the palace," he said coldly. "As a maid."

And just like that, my fate was sealed. I was escorted to a dark corner of the palace, given a torn and dirty uniform, and told my duties-cleaning, cooking, anything that needed doing. Days passed in a blur, the life I had known fading into a distant memory. The other servants kept their distance, their eyes filled with a mixture of pity and fear. I was an outsider, someone not worth knowing.

But there was one person who didn't treat me like I was invisible-Danny. She was a servant too, younger than me, with a frail body that seemed to be failing him more each day. Her pale face grew thinner as time passed, and it wasn't long before I learned She was sick-very sick. No one else seemed to care, too busy with their own survival, but I couldn't just stand by and watch Her suffer.

One evening, after the palace had quieted down, I approached him in the dimly lit servant's quarters. She lay on a small cot, his breathing shallow and labored.

"Danny," I whispered, kneeling beside her. "I'm going to find herbs. There's a spot in the forest where they grow. I'll be back before sunrise."

She looked at me with wide, feverish eyes. "It's too dangerous, Rachel. The rogues-"

"I'll be careful," I promised, squeezing his hand before slipping away into the night.

The moon hung high in the sky as I moved swiftly through the forest, my heart pounding in my chest. The wind whispered through the trees, and every rustle of leaves set my nerves on edge. I had grown up fearing the rogues-wolves who had been exiled, driven mad by their isolation and hunger. I prayed I wouldn't cross paths with them.

After what felt like hours, I reached the clearing where the herbs grew. I knelt down and began to gather the leaves, my fingers trembling with urgency. But just as I was about to stand, a low growl echoed from behind me.

My blood froze.

Slowly, I turned, and there they were-rogue wolves, their eyes glowing with feral hunger. They were thinner than I had imagined, their fur matted and dirty, but their teeth were sharp, gleaming in the moonlight. I took a step back, but it was too late. They had caught my scent.

I ran. My feet pounded against the forest floor, the herbs forgotten in my hand. The growls grew louder, closer. I could hear their snarls, feel the heat of their breath on the back of my neck.

And then I tripped.

I hit the ground hard, pain shooting through my leg as I tumbled into a tangle of roots. I tried to scramble to my feet, but the wolves were upon me. One of them lunged, teeth bared, and I screamed-a desperate, blood-curdling cry that echoed through the night.

I taught it was over as i looked up a tree across me and i was surprised at who it was,

King Lucien.

Lucien sat perched high on a thick branch of an ancient tree, the dense canopy shielding him from the view below. His sharp eyes scanned the scene unfolding beneath him-rogue wolves, filthy and desperate, circling their prey. A girl, frail and clearly helpless, was surrounded by their snarls and snapping jaws. Her wide, terrified eyes darted between the wolves, trying to find an escape, but it was clear there was none.

Liam leaned back, indifferent at first. Such things happened in his kingdom all the time-the weak were picked off by rogues, and only the strong survived. He had no interest in saving some poor soul who couldn't defend herself. It wasn't his responsibility to intervene.

But then, just as he prepared to move on, something unusual stopped him. A voice.

"Please help me."

The voice wasn't audible; it rang inside his head, soft and trembling, a plea that carried an unusual weight. Lucien tensed, his body freezing at the unexpected connection. It had been years since he last heard a voice like this in his mind. After his family was massacred in a raid, he had shut himself off from the world, losing his ability to mind link with other wolves. He hadn't heard another wolf's thoughts since. Until now.

"Please... help me."

The desperation in the voice clawed at his conscience, the torment so raw it struck a part of him he had long buried. Lucien clenched his jaw, anger rising as the voice continued to echo, refusing to be ignored. He didn't want to be pulled into this-didn't want to feel anything for a stranger.

With a growl of frustration, Lucien leaped down from the tree, landing silently. The rogues were too focused on their prey to notice him. The girl, now trembling on the ground, was trying to shield herself as the wolves closed in.

Lucien's eyes narrowed. He wouldn't allow the rogues to take what wasn't theirs. One of the wolves lunged toward the girl, but Lucien was faster. In one swift motion, he grabbed the wolf by its throat and snapped its neck with a sickening crunch. The other wolves turned, realizing too late who they were up against.

Lucien made quick work of them, his movements precise and lethal. The forest floor was soon littered with the bodies of the rogues, their blood staining the earth. He stood over their lifeless forms, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

The girl hadn't moved, too shocked and terrified to react. Lucien's gaze shifted to her, his piercing eyes scanning her trembling form. She was covered in dirt and bruises, her clothes torn and bloodied. She looked fragile-too fragile to have survived this long in his world.

But something else tugged at him now, something stronger than his initial disinterest. The pull of a bond he hadn't expected to feel. Lucien's breath caught in his throat as realization slowly dawned on him.

She was his mate.

His heart pounded, the connection between them undeniable now that he was standing close to her. But he hadn't realized it during the fight-his mind had been too focused on the battle. Only now, as he looked at her, did the weight of the bond settle on him.

Lucien's jaw clenched, his anger simmering beneath the surface. The moon goddess had chosen *her* for him? This frail, powerless girl? He had always respected the goddess's decisions, but this-this was too much.

Without a word, Lucien reached down, grabbing her by her hair and yanking her to her feet. She gasped in pain, her hands instinctively grabbing at his wrist, but she couldn't loosen his grip.

"Get up," he ordered coldly, dragging her through the forest. His long strides forced her to stumble and nearly fall as he pulled her along. He didn't care about her tears or her cries for mercy. The bond between them only made him angrier-how could the goddess think this girl was fit to be his mate?

They reached the palace quickly, Lucien storming through the grand halls, ignoring the startled glances from his guards and servants. His focus was solely on her, on the questions racing through his mind. He needed answers. Why had she been in his head? And why hadn't he realized they were mates sooner?

He pushed open the doors to his private chambers and threw her to the floor. She landed hard, gasping for breath as the pain coursed through her body. For a long moment, the room was silent except for the sound of their labored breathing.

Lucien stood over her, his expression unreadable. His emotions were in turmoil, but he wouldn't let it show. He had to stay in control, even now.

"Explain," he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Why were you in my head?"

Rachel looked up at him, tears in her eyes, her body trembling from both fear and exhaustion. "I-I don't know," she stammered. "I didn't mean to... I don't know how it happened."

Lucien's anger flared. He took a step closer, looming over her. "Liar. You spoke to me. How?"

"I swear, I don't know!" she cried, her voice cracking. "I was scared, and I just-I didn't mean to reach out to you. It just happened."

Lucien stared at her, his fury fading into something else-confusion, frustration. He didn't know whether to believe her, but the bond between them was unmistakable now. As much as he hated to admit it, this girl was his mate. And that meant something, whether he liked it or not.

Suddenly, the air in the room shifted, the tension thick between them as the bond pulsed stronger. Rachel's breath caught as her eyes met Lucien's, the connection hitting her like a tidal wave. She felt it too. The recognition was instant and mutual-they were mates.

Lucien's expression hardened, but he couldn't deny the truth any longer. The moon goddess had chosen her for him, and despite his misgivings, he had to respect that. He had always honored the goddess's will, no matter how difficult it was to accept.

For a moment, he stood frozen, wrestling with his emotions. He had expected a strong, powerful mate, someone worthy of his title. But instead, he had been given her-weak, helpless, and in need of protection. Yet, the bond was real, and he couldn't ignore it.

"I will not reject you," Lucien finally said, his voice quieter now, though still edged with frustration. "The moon goddess chose you, and I will respect that."

Rachel blinked, shocked by his words. She had expected rejection, cruelty. But instead, he was... accepting her? Even though she was weak?

"However," he continued, his eyes narrowing. "You will remain here. You're too weak to survive on your own, and until I figure out what to do with you, you'll stay in this room."

Rachel nodded, too exhausted and overwhelmed to protest. She could feel the weight of the bond between them, and even though he was angry, she sensed a glimmer of something else-something softer, buried deep beneath his harsh exterior.

Lucien turned away, his mind racing. He didn't know how he would handle this, but one thing was clear: he couldn't ignore the bond. The moon goddess had chosen, and now he would have to deal with the consequence.

The days bled into nights as Rachel lay on the cold stone floor of the room where Lucien had imprisoned her. The windows were barred, allowing only a sliver of moonlight to slip through, casting shadows on the walls that felt more like a cage than a sanctuary. Her body still ached from the rough treatment she had received, but it was the emotional toll that weighed the heaviest.

Every night, when the palace was quiet and the hallways were void of life, Rachel's sobs echoed in the silence. She cried not just for her situation, but for the life she had lost, the freedom she once took for granted. She was a prisoner now-Lucien's mate, yet trapped, ignored, and isolated.

But there was someone who heard her.

Mike, Lucien's beta and closest confidant, had a room near hers. At first, he had ignored the muffled sounds of her crying, dismissing it as the weakness Lucien had described. But night after night, the sound began to gnaw at him. She wasn't just a random prisoner-she was the alpha's mate. Whether Lucien wanted to admit it or not, she held significance in their world.

On the fifth night, Mike could take it no longer. He paced in his room, his brow furrowed in concern. Rachel's crying had become more than just a noise; it was a constant reminder of the cruelty she was enduring. Despite Lucien's orders to leave her alone, Mike felt compelled to check on her.

*She's terrified of him,* Mike thought. *Of all of us, probably.*

With a deep sigh, he made his decision. He slipped out of his room and walked quietly down the hallway toward Rachel's door. He hesitated for a moment, knowing that Lucien would disapprove of this, but pushed the thought aside. This wasn't about Lucien. It was about Rachel.

He knocked softly. When no response came, he gently pushed the door open.

Rachel was sitting in the corner of the room, her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them in a feeble attempt to feel safe. Her head snapped up at the sound of the door creaking, and her eyes widened with fear when she saw Mike standing in the doorway.

"Please," she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying. "Don't hurt me."

Mike's heart clenched. She looked so small, so fragile. *This is the alpha's mate?* he wondered, shaking his head slightly. He took a step into the room, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly, his voice gentle. "I heard you crying... I just wanted to see if you were okay."

Rachel stared at him, her eyes full of distrust. She knew who he was-Lucien's beta, his most loyal follower. She had heard stories of Mike's strength, his ruthlessness in battle. How could she trust someone like him?

"I don't need your pity," she replied, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound brave. "Just leave me alone."

Mike paused, feeling a pang of guilt. He didn't know how to reassure her that he wasn't here to harm her. "I'm not here because I pity you," he said quietly. "I just... I can't ignore it anymore. You don't deserve this."

Rachel looked away, her tears threatening to spill over once more. "You don't know what I deserve," she whispered.

Mike sat down on the floor, a respectful distance away from her. He didn't press any further, just sat there, giving her the space she needed. They sat in silence for what felt like hours, neither saying a word. Eventually, Rachel's breathing began to calm, and the tension in the room slowly lifted.

After that night, Mike began visiting her more often. At first, Rachel remained wary of him. Each time he entered her room, she would tense, her body rigid with fear. But Mike was patient, never forcing conversation, never pushing her to open up. He simply stayed with her, offering quiet comfort in a world that seemed determined to break her.

Slowly, Rachel began to trust him.

Weeks passed, and Rachel's initial fear of Mike softened into something else-something unexpected. He was kind to her, in a way she hadn't known since she had been taken to the palace. Every night, Mike would sit with her, sometimes talking, sometimes just listening as she poured out her heart about everything she had lost. He didn't judge her for her weakness, and in his company, she found a sense of peace she hadn't thought possible.

One night, as Mike was about to leave, Rachel stopped him.

"Mike?" she called softly.

He turned, looking at her with that same patient expression he always wore. "Yes?"

"I... I just wanted to say thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "For... everything. I don't know how I would have gotten through these days without you."

Mike smiled faintly. "You don't have to thank me, Rachel. I'm just doing what feels right."

Rachel looked down, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn't realized how much his presence meant to her until now. He had been her only source of comfort in this cold, cruel place.

Without thinking, she stood up and took a step toward him. Mike tensed slightly, surprised by the sudden closeness, but he didn't move away. Rachel reached out, placing a hand on his arm, her fingers trembling.

"You're the first person who's ever made me feel... safe," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Mike's eyes softened. He reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "You are safe with me," he whispered.

Rachel's heart raced as she leaned closer, her body acting on instinct. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn't afraid. Mike's warmth enveloped her, and before she knew it, their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss.

It started slow, cautious. But as the days turned into nights, their connection grew deeper, and they began to seek each other out for more than just comfort. What had begun as stolen moments of tenderness soon evolved into passionate embraces. Rachel had fallen for Mike-hard. He was the first person who had ever truly cared for her, and she was willing to risk everything to be with him.

But their growing closeness didn't go unnoticed.

Lucien, though still cold and distant, had begun to change ever so slightly. After imprisoning Rachel in his chambers, he had kept his distance, torn between his duty and his anger at the moon goddess for saddling him with such a weak mate. But as time passed, something in him shifted.

He still didn't visit Rachel, but he ordered his servants to provide her with better food and clean clothes. He even allowed her small freedoms, like being able to walk the palace halls under strict supervision. Though he never admitted it to anyone, even Mike, he couldn't ignore the bond between them. It gnawed at him, softening the edges of his anger.

One evening, as Lucien passed Rachel's room, he overheard her laughing softly. He paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob, surprised by the sound. She had always been so silent, so withdrawn. But now, her voice was filled with something he hadn't heard before-happiness.

He didn't enter the room, but his curiosity piqued. Was this bond pulling him toward her despite his reservations?

Later that night, Mike slipped into Rachel's room as usual. They talked for a while before falling into a comfortable silence. Rachel lay beside him, her head resting on his shoulder, her heart full of conflicting emotions.

"I don't know how much longer we can keep this up," Rachel whispered, her fingers tracing small patterns on Mike's arm.

Mike sighed, his brow furrowing. "I know. Lucien... he'll notice eventually."

Rachel turned to look at him, her eyes filled with both love and fear. "I don't care anymore," she said softly. "I love you, Mike. I'm willing to risk everything to be with you."

Mike's heart ached at her words, but he knew the danger they faced. Lucien was unpredictable, and if he found out about their secret meetings, the consequences would be dire.

"I love you too," Mike replied, brushing his lips against her forehead. "But we have to be careful, Rachel. I won't let anything happen to you."

Rachel nodded, but deep down, she knew their time together was running out. The bond she shared with Lucien was undeniable, and sooner or later, it would force them all to confront the truth.