Deviant Kings: Claimed by The Four Lycan Kings

Adeline’s pov~

"A wolfless omega has no place by my side. I, Alpha Lucas, reject you as my mate."

"And I, Alpha Logan, second the rejection. Our Luna will be Chloe when she turns eighteen next year. Pack your rags and get out of our territory before sunrise, rogue."

The words don’t just echo; they lacerate.

Every night when I close my eyes, the dark room shrinks until I am back on the cold, stone floor of the Crescent Pack packhouse, stripped bare by the brutal, mocking stares of a hundred wolves I used to serve. I can still smell the stale alcohol in the air, the scent of expensive silver-oak cologne belonging to the twin Alphas, and the suffocating stench of my own humiliation.

Wolfless.

Trash.

Kitchen maid.

Mistake.

The words flash behind my eyelids like jagged lightning, a relentless parade of cruelty meant to ground me into the dirt.

"Look at her, she doesn’t even have a scent."

"She’s a defect. Imagine thinking a broken servant could ever wear the Crescent crown."

"A parasite clinging to the coat-tails of her betters."

PRESENT DAY

A sharp, violent gasp hitches in my throat, and my eyes snap open from that flash memory. I take a deep, trembling breath, forcing my hands to stop shaking as the reality of the present settles over me.

It has been exactly one year. One long, gruelling year since the twin-fated Alphas tore the bond from my chest and cast me out like garbage. One year since I left that wretched pack territory with nothing but the clothes I was wearing and a bleeding soul.

I look up, and the breath catches in my throat all over again, not from a memory this time, but from the sheer, towering reality standing right in front of me.

The Royal Lycan Academy.

Massive gothic spires pierce the sky, and ancient stone walls loom over the landscape, radiating a heavy, suffocating current of pure, unadulterated power. This is a place meant for gods, monsters, and royal bloodlines so old they predate the stars themselves. It is a legendary fortress where a broken, rogue omega from the Crescent Pack should never have been able to set foot.

Yet, here I am.

Under a carefully constructed hidden identity, I am about to cross the threshold. I am not wearing the extravagant luxury silks or the heavy jewels of the highborn elites walking past me. I chose minimal, simple attire—a modest hoodie and a pair of jeans. It isn’t the best or the worst clothing, but it doesn’t draw attention to me. I don’t want the attention.

I am here for two reasons only: to find the truth behind the tragedy that destroyed my family, and to dig deep into my own soul to see if my wolf side is truly dead, or just buried. I need to get stronger. I need to survive.

But I am not entirely alone in this den of apex predators.

There is one person inside these walls who promised to protect me. He isn’t just any student; he is a powerful Lycan heir, a future ruler currently completing his education here. He was the one who pulled the strings, forged my documents, and secured my entry into this impossible institution.

He didn’t do it out of charity. He did it to repay a massive, life-altering debt he owed to a single person we both had in common, the retired Luna who rescued me from the brink of death. She had demanded my safety, and as her nephew and an honourable heir, his word was absolute law.

Clutching the heavy straps of my bag, I take a final step toward the massive iron gates. The past year taught me how to blend into the shadows. The twin Alphas think they broke me, but they merely stripped away my illusions.

I take a deep breath, steel my posture, and walk forward into the lion’s den.

I clutched the heavy straps of my backpack, the rough material digging into my shoulders through my sweatshirt. My eyes scanned the bustling courtyard, desperately searching for the one familiar face I was promised would be here to protect me. I felt like a ghost walking among elite heirs, alphas.

Lost in my thoughts, frantic to find that familiar face, I didn’t notice the massive, wall-like chest moving directly into my path.

Thud.

I hit the solid body and bounced backward, losing my balance completely. I braced for the impact of the hard concrete, but a pair of strong hands gripped my upper arms, steadying me with effortless force. The grip was like iron.

"Fuck, who the hell—" a deep, irritated voice cut through the air.

"I am so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going," I interrupted immediately, my voice breathless as I pulled away. I kept my head down, my heart hammering violently against my ribs. Stupid. So stupid. The last thing I needed on my first day as a hidden rogue was to start a fight with an elite student.

When I finally forced myself to look up, the apology died in my throat.

The guy standing in front of me was devastatingly handsome. He had a sharp, chiselled jawline, messy hair that fell perfectly over his forehead, and an athletic, powerful build that didn’t just scream high-ranking Alpha; it felt older, heavier. Lycan. The sheer weight of his aura made the air feel thick. Behind him stood a small group of male students, his followers, who watched the interaction with intense, silent authority.

The irritation on his face vanished the moment he looked down at me. A slow, teasing smile curled the corners of his lips, transforming him from a terrifying predator into a dangerous flirt. He took a step forward, completely invading my personal space, and extended a large, well-manicured hand toward me.

"Hello. I am Blake," he said, his voice dropping into a smooth, crooked purr. "What is your name, pretty girl?"

He spoke with the absolute confidence of a guy who knew every single girl on this campus would die for his attention. And it wasn’t an exaggeration. I could already feel the burning, jealous stares from the female students gathering nearby, their whispers cutting through the courtyard like knives. They wanted to shred me just for bumping into him.

I didn’t want any trouble. I kept my hands firmly tucked into the pockets of my sweatshirt, refusing to touch him or accept the handshake. Touching meant giving away a scent, a touch, a piece of myself. I couldn’t risk it. I didn’t even meet his intense gaze, keeping my eyes focused safely on his collarbone.

"Adeline," I said softly, my voice flat, completely unaffected by his charm.

Blake’s smirk grew dangerously wide when I didn’t shake his hand. I could tell no one rejected him here. Intrigued by my coldness, he stepped even closer, his shadow completely eclipsing me.

Blake lowered his hand, but he didn’t back away. Instead, his dark eyes locked onto my face, scanning my casual, minimal clothes with intense curiosity. He was a future Lycan King, used to girls dressing in silks just to catch his eye, and here I was in a plain sweatshirt.

"Adeline," he repeated, tasting the name on his tongue like it was a prize. "Beautiful name. But I know every single face at this academy, and I’ve definitely never seen you around here before."

"I’m a new transfer," I said quietly.

I kept my voice completely even, masking the sudden spike of adrenaline in my chest. Don’t show fear. They smell fear. I had to be so careful. I wasn’t just a regular transfer student—I was a runaway rogue living under a completely fabricated identity, protected only by the cloaking necklace hidden beneath my thick sweatshirt. If anyone discovered who I really was, I would be hunted down within hours.

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