Rejected By One; Claimed By Three

Lila's Pov.

It has been two years since I turned eighteen, the age I was supposed to find my mate and leave my parents' home.

Yet, at twenty, I was still under their roof, acting as their maid and without any pay.

I was basically living for free, entirely dependent on my parents' financial assistance.

It's laughable, I know-almost pitiable. But I guess it's partly my fault.

Mother claimed she didn't want me to leave her behind, alone, that the world outside was too dangerous.

And yet, she treated me like a burden.

She's right, though.

At twenty, I've achieved nothing, been a disappointment, and still have no plans of leaving-not just yet.

I stood before my bathroom mirror, staring at the woman reflected in the flat surface.

Me.

With messy black curls, lifeless green eyes, and lips that some girls would kill for-girls who usually got rejected because of their looks.

I was a walking zombie, to be honest. Pale skin, dark eye circles, and a "healthy" body always covered in bruises.

I couldn't deny I was a solid six or seven at best, but who would want a miserable-looking pest like me?

Heaving a heavy sigh, I wiped the water off my face and turned to leave, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep.

Until I heard my mother's voice echo from the basement.

Without thinking twice, I hurried out of my bedroom and through the door leading to the basement under the house.

Once I arrived, my eyes immediately fell on the box in front of her.

It looked old-really old-covered in cobwebs, with my name written boldly across the top.

My eyes narrowed as I stared at the box, curiosity and confusion battling within me.

I wanted to ask what it was, but Mother glared at me.

And when I say "glare," I mean the kind that screams: "How dare you do this?" or "How could you disgrace your father and me like this?"

The kind of glare that usually ended with a heavy slap or a sharp kick. I was already used to it.

But this time, her glare was different. She looked... worried. Upset, even.

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I must have done something wrong.

I reached for the box, my hand trembling as I wondered if this was another thing that would get me punished.

"Mom, is everything alright?" I managed to ask, knowing she wouldn't let me touch the box unless I had an explanation.

And I couldn't explain something I knew nothing about.

I watched her closely as she stepped toward the box, her irritated look not wavering.

She sighed and opened the box slowly.

I leaned in closer, curious but careful, my instincts on high alert.

Unfortunately, just as she began opening it, my father's voice called both our attention.

Mother snapped the lid shut and left the box untouched, motioning for me to follow her.

We made our way back to the living room, where three men stood behind the sofa.

On the sofa sat a man dressed in an expensive black suit, exuding dominance and power.

His cold, piercing golden eyes scanned the room, lingering on me for a moment before shifting back to my father.

I froze in my tracks, my heart pounding as I studied the strangers.

There was something about the man on the sofa that sent a chill down my spine.

His presence demanded respect-or perhaps fear.

Yes, fear. That must have been why my father seemed so tense around him. And my mother...

I glanced at her only to see her trembling in the corner, avoiding the man's gaze altogether.

Who the hell was this man?

"Lila," my father said sharply, his tone colder than usual. "Come here."

I hesitated, my legs trembling as I took a small step forward.

"This is Asher," my father continued, gesturing toward the man on the sofa. "He's here on behalf of the Lycan King."

The words hit me like a slap.

My eyes widened as I stared at the man, struggling to process what my father had just said.

The Lycan King? Why would someone like him send a representative to our home?

Asher stood, adjusting the cuffs of his suit with precision. His movements radiated authority, making the air feel heavier.

"Miss Lila Woods," he began, his voice smooth yet devoid of warmth. "You have been chosen to serve a purpose for the Lycan King. It is an honor not granted to many."

Wait, what happened to the girls who would do anything to get into a man's home? I was a nobody, for that matter.

Before I could add to my thoughts, Asher said, "Forgive my bluntness. Let me put it this way."

He paused and stepped closer, closing the distance between us, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Your father owes the Lycan King a huge sum of money, and since your wretched father can't pay, the King has decided you will settle the debt."

"Forcefully or willingly-your choice."

"What are you talking about? Why me?" I asked immediately, my voice trembling with anger and confusion.

Asher's smirk vanished, replaced by a frown, but I didn't care. No one had the right to use me as payment for some stupid debt!

I turned to my father, ready to protest, but he raised his hand, silencing me.

His face turned cold, his expression devoid of warmth. "This isn't up for debate. This is your chance to do something meaningful for once in your life."

"Meaningful?" I echoed, my voice cracking with disbelief. "You're sending me away to the Lycan King? For what? I don't understand!"

"You don't need to understand," my mother snapped, finally speaking up. Her tone was sharp, but there was unease in her eyes. "You'll do as you're told."

I turned back to Asher, my hands trembling. "Why me?" I asked again, desperation dripping from every word.

Asher's expression remained impassive. "You've been chosen as a surrogate. The King requires an heir, and you have been deemed suitable for the task."

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

My mind refused to process them. A surrogate? An heir? What kind of twisted excuse was this?

"No," I whispered, shaking my head vehemently. "No, I won't do it. You can't make me-"

My father slammed his hand down on the coffee table, the sharp sound cutting me off. "You will do this, Lila. It's already been decided."

Tears burned in my eyes as I stared at him, silently pleading for some kind of explanation, some shred of reassurance that this was all a terrible mistake.

But there was nothing. No sympathy, no regret-just cold, unyielding resolve.

"Gather your things," Asher ordered, his tone making it clear that the discussion was over. "We leave in an hour."

I stood there, frozen in place, as my world crumbled around me.

My parents avoided my gaze, their silence speaking louder than words.

They weren't going to stop this. They weren't going to save me.

Numbly, I turned and walked back to my room, my legs heavy with dread.

The tears I had been holding back finally spilled over, streaming down my face as I packed a small bag.

An hour later, I was standing behind the men who had come to take me away and my parents just stared emotionlessly like it was normal.

I was being sold to the Lycan King-the man known for treating everyone as though they were lesse

Or worse, as though they were nothing at all.

And I was the worse of them, and a surrogate for that matter.

The journey to the Lycan King's home was filled with silence, and it was already getting worse by the second.

I sat in the back of the sleek black car, wedged between two of Asher's men. Their presence was intimidating, their stone-cold faces offering no single ounce of comfort.

For my betrayal.

Who would care even? I was a nobody, and a nobody that would soon become a surrogate and then be dumped afterwards.

Through the tinted windows, I could barely make out the world passing by, the scenery growing darker and wilder the farther we drove.

It was as if we were leaving civilization behind and entering some forbidden, untouched land.

My heart pounded in my chest, each thump echoing louder in the silence. I clutched my bag tightly in my lap.

I didn't dare ask questions.

My parents' betrayal hung heavy on me. They had sold me-handed me over like I was nothing. Their own flesh and blood, treated like a money to settle their debts.

I swallowed hard, fighting the tears that threatened to fall again.

"Miss Woods," Asher's voice broke the silence, sharp and commanding.

"I suggest you prepare yourself. The King is not a patient man, nor is he forgiving of petty behaviours."

I turned to glare at him, but the warning in his golden eyes made me quickly avert my gaze.

Prepare myself? For what exactly?

The thought of meeting the Lycan King made my stomach churn.

A man so powerful that even my father-who always thought himself untouchable-had bowed to his will.

What did he want with me?

Would it be the surrogacy that I read about, or the type he alphas I heard about usually do.

I didn't want to know.

I tried to focus on anything else, but my mind kept drifting back to that box in the basement.

What was inside?

Why had my mother been so nervous, so protective of it?

It had my name on it, bold and unmistakable, as if it had been waiting for me all this time.

And yet, she wouldn't let me near it.

The memory of her fearful expression sent a shiver down my spine.

Whatever was inside that box, it had to be important.

But now I will never know.

The car suddenly slowed, jolting me from my thoughts.

My eyes snapped to the window, and my breath caught in my throat.

We were approaching a massive gate, created with iron with the Lycan logo.

A large jaw, and his something I couldn't quite understand scribbled there.

Beyond the gate, a sprawling estate loomed, shrouded in mist and shadow.

The mansion at its center was both beautiful and terrifying, with statues of gargoyle perched at the top.

I felt a wave of dread wash over me as the gates creaked open, the sound was a warning.

Telling me not to continue, even my wolf was dormant, she had always been. I couldn't blame her.

As the car rolled forward, my hands tightened around my bag.

This was it.

There was no turning back now.

The car came to a stop in front of the mansion's grand entrance. Asher's men stepped out first, one of them opened my door.

I hesitated and refused to move, but...

"Get out," Asher ordered, he seemed very angry, or perhaps impatient, not that I cared anyway.

Taking a shaky breath, I stepped out of the car and the first thing that touched me was the cold air.

"Follow me," Asher said, his tone sharp as he strode toward the massive double doors.

I followed,trembling with every step.

As the door opene

A butler appeared, bowing deeply before gesturing for us to enter.

"This way," he said, his voice soft but commanding.

I was led through grand hallways lined with portraits of men and women with piercing golden eyes. Their faces seemed to follow me, their expressions unreadable.

Finally, we arrived at a set of smaller doors at the end of the hallway. The butler opened them, revealing a lavish sitting room.

And there he was.

The Lycan King.

He sat in a high-backed chair, his posture relaxed but radiating authority. His gold hair framed a face that was both rugged and unnervingly handsome. His golden eyes locked onto mine.

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

"Miss Woods," he said, his deep voice sending a chill down my spine. "Welcome to your new home."

The words were spoken with a calmness that only heightened my fear.

This wasn't a home.

This was a permanent prison.

_____

I sat inside the oddly comfortable and beautiful bedroom, with a large king-sized bed placed at the center.

The shelves were larger than anything I had owned, and there was a whole closet room-something I never had the opportunity to experience back at home.

Despite the luxury, I couldn't shake the complicated feelings I had toward the Lycan King. I was grateful to him-he didn't seem like a bad person-but the fact that he accepted me as payment for my father's debt left a bitter taste in my mouth.

In truth, they were both at fault.

I sank into the sofa near the window, my gaze drifting to the wide expanse of grass below.

Asher had mentioned it was the garden, and it truly was stunning.

Apparently, the entire mansion was the perfect example of "don't judge a book by its cover."

A soft smile tugged at my lips as I admired the beautiful scene. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Asher speaking with the King near a pool.

They seemed deeply engrossed in their conversation. Curiosity bubbled up inside me-I'd never deny that I was a naturally curious person.

Even hearing just a single sentence of what they were saying would have satisfied me.

But alas, I was nothing here-not even a maid. Yet, I reminded myself to remain grateful.

Lost in thought, I hadn't realized the Lycan King had shifted his gaze upward until I absentmindedly tried to read their lips.

The moment our eyes met, I froze.

I couldn't move, couldn't speak. His golden eyes held me in place, captivating me entirely.

Yes, I said it-I was captivated.

His eyes were like golden pearls, the kind I'd cherish forever if I could keep them as treasures.

The spell lasted for what felt like an eternity, though it was probably only a few seconds. Then, he smirked and turned his attention back to Asher.

"That was... strange," I muttered to myself, shaking off the daze.

Turning away from the window, I tried to regain my composure. I couldn't afford to let Asher catch me staring at his boss. He might think I was desperate-or worse, cheap.

Not that I cared what he thought. I just didn't want anyone making baseless assumptions about me.

Distracting myself, I started rearranging the room to suit my preferences.

I pushed the bed to the wall, moved the sofa to the far end of the room near the door, and left the dressing table where it was. The study desk, however, I dragged to my bedside.

It was heavy, but being a werewolf meant I could handle it without much difficulty-well, except for the massive trunk by the door leading to the closet.

I wanted to move it inside to create more space, but it was far too heavy even for me.

Frustrated, I gave up and collapsed onto the bed, exhausted.

Peace didn't last long.

A gentle knock sounded at the door. At first, I ignored it, thinking I'd imagined it. But then it came again-louder this time.

Sighing, I rose from the bed and marched to the door.

When I opened it, my gaze fell on the Lycan King, dressed in pajamas with a robe draped over them.

Confused, my brows furrowed. Before I could say anything, he grabbed my hand and stepped inside.

Closing the door behind him, he locked it, then led me to the bed.

His towering frame loomed over me as I sat there, unable to look away. There was an intensity in his gaze-a possessiveness I couldn't quite place.

Technically, I was his, but the look in his eyes was... different.

I wanted to protest, to tell him to move, but I couldn't. My body refused to respond.

When his hand brushed against my thigh, I shivered, instinctively pulling away and shifting further onto the bed.

That small act of defiance seemed to anger him.

"I came to you myself because I thought you were adjusting well," he said, his voice low and firm. "Be a good girl and do as I say-or I'll force you."

Force me?

No way.

My mind raced for a response, but before I could speak, he closed the distance between us and pinned me to the bed.

His speed was overwhelming, his strength undeniable.

My skin grew hot as his hand slid up my thigh, lifting my dress. My heart raced wildly, pounding against my chest.

He leaned in, his lips hovering dangerously close. Was he going to kiss me-or bite me?

Panicking, I pressed my hands against his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his robe.

For a moment, I was distracted by how perfect he felt-like a god carved from stone. But I quickly snapped out of it.

"Your Highness," I stammered, my voice trembling. "I... I know I'm yours now, and I have no choice in this."

I paused, searching his face for any sign of mercy. To my surprise, his cold demeanor softened just slightly.

"Don't call me that," he said.

"Uhm... My King?"

"No."

I bit my lip, trying to think of the right thing to say. Then, without thinking, I blurted out, "M... Master?"

He hesitated, his eyes narrowing briefly before a smirk spread across his lips.

"Go on," he urged.

"Please, Master," I begged, my voice barely above a whisper. "Give me time. I'm new here, and I barely know you. Please... just a little time."

He studied me for a long moment, then sighed reluctantly.

"Fine," he said, rising from the bed. He helped me to my feet and I followed like a lost puppy.

He crossed his arms, and almost immediately his entire aura changed to ruthless.

"I am Kelvin Lykos," he declared, his voice firm and commanding. "Your new master. Understood?"

"Yes, sir

After the king left my room, I remained seated on the edge of the bed, my body trembling from the intensity of our interaction.

He was just about to kiss me and even do more.

I didn't know what to make of him.

One moment, he was dominating and forceful; the next, he showed restraint, as if he cared-though I doubted it, and now he acts all cold.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I tried to focus on adjusting to my new life here.

But how could I? I wasn't a guest, nor a prisoner-I was something in between, and I hated it.

I only wanted peace and sleep maybe, then everything would work out on its own afterwards. I hated stress

Later that day, a maid knocked on my door. This time, she didn't wait for me to answer before stepping inside.

"The Queen would like to meet you," she said, her voice curt but polite.

"The Queen?" My heart skipped a beat.

"Yes. She's waiting for you in the east wing."

I stood up reluctantly, smoothing the wrinkles from my dress.

Meeting the Queen sounded intimidating, but I had no choice.

I followed the maid through the large hallways, each one more ornate than the last.

It was like one part of the mansion after another was like a world, and it was huge.

When we reached the east wing, I was ushered into a sunlit sitting room.

The Queen sat on a chaise lounge near the window, her beauty both regal and distant. Her hair, black as midnight, was styled to perfection, and her emerald-green dress seemed to shimmer in the sunlight.

She looked up as I entered, her sharp green eyes scanning me from head to toe.

"So, you're the new girl," she said, her tone lacked anything close to nice. Just bland hostility and I was just arriving. "Come closer."

I hesitated but obeyed, stopping a few feet away from her.

"What's your name?"

"L.. Lila," I stammered.

The Queen tilted her head, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "Lila. Lovely name."

I didn't respond, unsure of how to act before her.

She was the wicked representation of my mother, except younger and more beautiful.

I couldn't deny that I admired her, however her behaviour ruined it.

"Do you know why you're here, Lia?" she asked, her voice came out soft but with an edge that made me very uncomfortable.

"My father's debt," I replied, though the words felt hollow even as I said them.

The Queen chuckled, a cold, bitter sound. "That's what they told you, isn't it?"

Her words sent a chill down my spine. "What do you mean?"

She stood, her tall figure towering over me as she approached. Her gaze was piercing, like she could see through every layer of my soul.

"You're here because Kelvin needed someone," she said bluntly. "Not a wife, not a companion. Someone useful."

I frowned, my confusion growing. "Useful for what?"

The Queen's lips curled into a cruel smile. "You're here to bear his heir, and satisfy him if he wanted Lila. Nothing more."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. "What?"

Yes What? Satisfy him?

I was only here to bear his heir and then serve as a slave or leave, not be a sex slave.

"You didn't think he brought you here out of kindness, did you?" she asked, her was tone dripping with so much mockery.

"Kelvin doesn't do kindness. Everything he does is for a reason. He needed someone... disposable. And you fit the role perfectly."

My knees felt weak, and I stumbled back a step. "You're lying."

"Am I?" she said, arching a brow.

"Think about it. Why would a king-a Lycan king-lower himself to trouble with a mere werewolf's debt? Why would he bring you here, give you a room in his mansion, and treat you as if you matter? You don't. You're just a means to an end."

I wanted to scream, to deny what she was saying. But deep down, I knew she was right. Kelvin's actions, his cold demeanor, and even his sudden interest in me-it all made sense now.

I wasn't here because he cared about me. I wasn't here because he wanted to help my family.

I was here because he needed me to give him an heir.

Nothing more.

And if it was to satisfy him after that, is there even a way to avoid that.

The Queen stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you're smart, you'll do exactly what he wants. Play your role, Lila. That's the only way you'll survive."

"Aurora what is the matter?"

I heard the king's voice come from the floor above, I wanted to move from my spot, but it was like I was rooted permanently to the ground.

I turned to where the voice was coming from and I saw the king descending the stairs with his hair worn in a ponytail.

He wore the same robe he came to me with, he flashed a glare at the Queen, and she was somewhat shocked.

He placed himself on the sofa beside her, and crossed his legs.

"Lila, what are you doing here?"

He asked, jolting me out of my thoughts, when I turned to answer him.

I opened my mouth to speak, only to receive a very painful, bone wrenching, agonizing to my side.

I groaned and crumpled to the ground as soon as the pain rushed into my brain.

I held my side and closed my eyes, forcing back the tears that threatened to pour.

She sure has strong hands, to be able to give such a hit.

I managed to catch my breath, and raised my head, to see the Queen averting her gaze from the king

He glanced at me and sighed, "Are you okay?"

I nodded quietly then he crossed his arms. "Stay away from my......wife, if you live by yourself."

"She's not a fan of girls like you."

"I understand master."

"Master?!" The queen exclaimed but he was already heading up the stairs, avoiding her question as fast as he could.

She then shifted her gaze to me, and the amount of dread that fell over me was like a cup of cold water, I felt like dying.

"You serve me from now on, so prepare yourself. Filthy thing." She spat and exited the living room. Leaving me to my....

'Sorry self.'