The Rogue Lycan Princess

“What’s wrong, Shadow?” Kent, my adopted father, asked who had raised me since I was eight. His thick brows squished together. Concern filled his hazel eyes.

“I don’t know. I think I sense something.” My wolf anxiously stirred and became restless. I gulped a glass of water.

I barely escaped from the savages who killed my father’s entire pack. Because of the mixed mating, they ended up dead, and I ended up in a shelter with homeless humans. That was how Kent found me, gave me a home, and raised me as his own.

When I turned ten, Kent noticed something was different about me. I told him everything, how my parents died. At first, he thought it was a trauma that I’d seen things. When I reached puberty, he saw me change for the first time. Since then, he explored my kind.

We were about to meet the investor, and I couldn’t screw this up. We traveled all the way from California for this meeting, only to be ruined because I felt something odd.

“I’ll be fine alone. Go ahead. Get some air.”

“I’m fine.” I’ve already learned to mask my scent, but I could be reckless sometimes and tested my limit. Or probably just my luck, and there was a huge chance I would run out.

I joined a pack once in college, but the Alpha turned out to be more interested in finding a bedmate, his whore, than ruling his pack.

When Kent put my choices on the table, let me join a pack again or be with humans and work as one of them. I chose the alter I refused to join again.

I had been a rogue for years. And I’d rather be a rogue than join another pack ruled by a useless or raging homicidal maniac Alpha and get killed.

I learned my lesson. The last thing I wanted was to be controlled by an arrogant asshole alpha.

I believed in finding a mate, though— a lifetime partner, a soulmate in the human world, but at this moment, I was happy with how my life had been.

If my parents were alive, they would be proud of me, standing on my own, and soon, I would be working at Kent’s company, Cornelius Marks & Co. Finance.

My wolf was happy hunting rabbits and raccoons on Kent’s vast acre of property. I couldn’t be selfish with her, and she was also a part of me, so we ran every weekend. I let her feel the dirt and mud under her paws. I let her smell the earth and taste the blood in her mouth as she chunked the rabbit.

She was happy, but deep inside, I knew she wanted more. She wanted to be in a pack where she could run and hunt with other wolves.

All of a sudden, the hair at the back of my neck stood up. My heart pumped so hard. I could feel my spine tingling as heat rushed through my body, and my wolf began purring.

“Calm down. Your eyes are about to glow.” Kent reached for my hand, which I had already formed into a fist. He squeezed it. He knew when I was about to shift. He’d helped me through my first shift no matter how terrified he was.

As a human, I felt how much he loved me and never let me suffer alone through that tough time. He’d watched me as my bone deformed and cracked in my body until hair spread in my skin, my face formed a snout, my claws came out, and fangs erupted from my gums until I fully shifted and was able to talk to my wolf for the first time.

“Something is wrong.” In my confused brain and restless wolf, I smelled someone’s scent despite smelling these humans— their sweats, cologne, aftershave, and the arousal of that woman at the corner. Still, something distinct of that particular smell— something enticing and more.

Breathing deeply, I closed my eyes and inwardly talked to my wolf. Calm down, or you won’t run for a month.

The most alluring, delicious scent became more distinct. As a hybrid of a Lycan and a witch, I had super senses ten times more than a regular werewolf. Since my father was an Alpha, I had superior strength and control of my mind.

“I’m sorry, Kent.” I opened my eyes. I knew they were glowing. My half-witch gene made my gray eyes gleam silver and violet.

I could feel my claws and fangs coming out, and I’d never lost control over it since that incident almost killed Kent. I learned how to restrain my emotions, but something was wrong—a danger was coming my way.

With my weak knees, I rose from the seat and hurried out of the hotel cafe to get some air. I took the elevator to the rooftop since I was in uncharted territory in New York, and if the hush-hush was right, a big pack led by a feared Alpha was in this city.

Instead of running out, I went to the rooftop. I knew there were packs everywhere. I couldn’t risk stumbling upon any kind because of my circumstances— a rogue. And there was no place safe for me. They would hunt me down.

Being in a pack was an advantage. You grew strong together and protected each other, but I could feel those savages who killed my parents were still out there. I couldn’t risk my life, my freedom, and Kent. I owed him my life.

I inhaled deeply as I tried to calm down and take control.

“What was that for?” I asked my wolf.

“He smells something interesting.” She was even purring.

I rolled my eyes. “Stop it, or I will shut you off.”

As that Alpha shifted to a man after killing my helpless mother, the image of him flashed back to me. I could never forget the murderous look in his eyes and the distinct scar on his right face.

When a mate died, the other half was considered dead too. I watched how life was taken away from my father as he watched my mother’s lifeless, shredded body. At that moment, I didn’t want to have a mate. I didn’t want to be helpless and weak. I couldn’t endure the intense agony of losing the love of my life. At the same time, my wolf needed him, if he was even somewhere out there waiting for me.

“Are you okay?”

I growled. “Do you really have to ask me? You feel everything I feel, dumb wolf.”

“We’re gonna be fine, Shadow.”

“Shut up. I need internal peace for a moment.” I closed my eyes again for several seconds. Then, a smell of crisp dew of the grass in fall, a hint of sandalwood, and terpenes of fresh pine wafting through the air — that scent definitely belonged to a male— a strong male. And if my fear was correct. There was a werewolf in the city right now, closer to where I was.

I went back in the elevator. My anxiousness brewed back as I watched the floor number descend, but I got it under control. One thing was clear to me from the very beginning— the animal in me could still be feral. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt when I uncontrollably and unwillingly transformed in front of humans under stress or fear or when she was provoked.

Maybe it was time to join a pack, but for a rogue longer than anyone, the Alpha wouldn’t make it easy for me, and I would be an Omega—the lowest rank in the pack.

The elevator slid open in the lobby. I went back to the cafe, but the table Kent and I last occupied was already empty. I couldn’t help but sniff and heave the air filtering various scents, from cologne to human smell and the strong aroma of coffee and sugar, but that distinct, alluring scent still lingered in the cafe.

”What the hell is going on?” I asked myself.

Kent must have taken my bag after the meeting. Either the meeting was abrupt and didn’t go well, or they sealed the deal quickly.

The scent—he was definitely a werewolf, a strong werewolf, had a rank in the pack— an Alpha, but who was he?

I walked out of the cafe and decided to go back to my hotel room to change. I was wearing a pretty white corporate dress, but I also enjoyed being comfy in shirts, jeans, and my pajamas at home.

“I can’t wait to run,” I told myself, more likely to my wolf. She gave me a purr in approval.

As I reached the lobby, I felt the hair at the back of my neck standing on end. A human nose wouldn’t notice the faint scent, but being a Lycan, I quickly followed it to the revolving door as it became stronger.

Heart slamming, I stopped and saw a man standing behind the glass wall. He was about six feet and a few inches tall. His stance possessed authority and absolute control— he used to bark around orders, and his men followed without questions because they respected and feared him. He had broad shoulders and strong arms through his stretched dark gray, well-tailored Italian suit. And I could tell just by looking at it. It cost him a thousand dollars. And I bet he looked handsome, as well.

I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes deliberately on his back, out of dirty thoughts where wasn’t the right time and place, but his pants snugged around his powerful sculpted thighs.

I wanted to study him, whoever this man was, that caught my attention. I wanted to study him dressed and naked but cut abruptly short when the man turned around as if he sensed someone was ogling him.

Holy shit.

As I met the man’s gaze, I gulped and froze like a wet cat. Those eyes were silver gray. I took it back—he wasn’t handsome. He was gorgeous, so insane, it should be illegal. He was too surreal for his own good.

I ignored my inner voice telling me to talk to him because I knew that moment. I let my curiosity lead me to a dangerous end— it just killed the wet cat.

His thick, dark eyebrows suddenly met together, and his eyes became dark, deadly, and freezing cold as if he had a displeasure of catching me ogling him.

“Oh, no.”