Deviant Kings: Claimed by The Four Lycan Kings

Author’s pov~

"Her wolf was already half-dead when she came to us," Raven said, his voice dropping into a quiet, distant whisper that seemed to chill the very air in the stairwell.

"A shifter’s wolf doesn’t just shatter like that from a physical beating. The reason... I guess she must have been brutally rejected by her pack, or she was bonded to a mate who violently broke off the connection. She said she no longer has a pack that means she was rejected by her own blood. The rejection must have caused her intense pain, and that must be the reason he wolf is dormant or worse, half dead."

Zyran, Blake, and Keiran stayed completely quiet, the raw weight of the revelation anchoring them to the floor.

"But when I first met her," Raven continued silently, his pitch-black eyes fixed on the stone ground beneath his boots, his breath catching in his throat. "When my grandmother first brought her home to the private estate, right out of that bloody forest... before she put the cloaking spell on her... I sensed it."

Blake’s eyes narrowed, his voice low, quite a whisper. "Sensed what, Raven?"

"I felt my inner wolf," Raven whispered, his chest heaving as a dangerous, volatile emotion cracked his icy facade. "My beast went absolutely feral inside my chest, sensing something I’ve never felt in my entire life. Even though her wolf was half-dead inside her, even though she was bleeding out on a cot... her raw, unmasked scent was intoxicating. I was barely able to hold myself back."

He snapped his head up, his dark eyes locking onto the three princes with a terrifying intensity.

"I think... she might be my mate."

Lord Raven’s mate is Adeline?

"What the fuck?!" Zyran blurted out, stepping back as if he had just been struck by lightning, his jaw dropping in absolute shock.

Blake froze mid-breath, his strategic mind completely shattering at the words. Even Keiran, who rarely showed any vulnerability, let out a stunned, breathy curse, his dark eyes blowing wide.

"Your mate?" Keiran rasped, his gravelly voice filled with sheer disbelief. "A wolfless, broken girl who can’t even shift is the fated lunar match to the Prince of the Second Throne? Raven, that’s impossible. If her wolf is dormant, the bond should be dead."

"It’s not dead," Raven growled softly, a feral, possessive heat flaring in his eyes. "It’s asleep. And now you know why I will burn this entire world to ash if anyone tries to take her from me again."

"Does anyone else know? And are you sure---" Keiran rasped.

"No one else knows," Raven muttered, his voice dropping into a warning whisper that cut off Keiran’s protests. "She doesn’t know. My grandmother doesn’t know. And it stays that way. If her wolf never wakes up, the bond doesn’t matter. But she is under my protection regardless."

Zyran shifted his weight, the shock slowly fading from his features as his sharp, analytical mind kicked back in.

He wiped a fresh smear of blood from his cheekbone and spoke, deliberately shifting the topic away from the impossible mate bond.

"We don’t even know for sure if the bond is real," Zyran said, his voice serious and focused. "And honestly, right now, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that someone wants her dead. They used my network to mask an execution order. Whoever this ghost is, they are smart, they are patient, and they are still hunting her. We need to be on high alert."

Blake nodded grimly, his dark eyes hardening as he stepped away from the cell doors.

"Zyran is right. Mate or not, she is a target inside our perimeter. If a noble house is trying to trigger a civil war by killing a guest of the Second Throne, the academy is no longer safe. We need to tighten the security lines immediately."

Keiran let out a heavy breath, his eyes scanning the blood-soaked corridor one last time before looking up at Zyran.

"Go clean yourself up, Zyran. You smell like a slaughterhouse, and the high guards will be down here the second the scent of dead omegas drifts up to the courtyard. Blake and I will handle the cleanup and erase the trail."

Zyran looked down at his ruined clothes, then back toward the stairs where Raven stood shrouded in the dark. The lazy, mocking prince was completely gone.

Raven didn’t say another word. He simply turned back into the shadows of the upper landing, his dark cloak disappearing into the light as he walked back out to the academy grounds.

~

Adeline’s pov~

I stumbled into the dim, narrow hallway of the residential wing, my boots dragging heavily against the floorboards. Every single step felt like a knife twisting into my cracked ribs.

My breath came in shallow, ragged hitches, the dark fabric of my oversized hoodie rubbing roughly against the swollen, burning heat of my bruised cheekbone.

I just needed to get to my door. I just wanted to lock the world out, pull the blankets over my head, and let the darkness take the pain away.

I finally reached my room, my trembling fingers fumbling blindly with the brass key. My dislocated shoulder flared with a hot, sickening throb as I tried to turn the lock.

Come on, please, I whimpered in my head, a desperate, frantic chant. Just turn.

"Adeline?"

The voice sliced through the quiet corridor, making my entire body go completely rigid. The key slipped from my numb fingers, clattering loudly against the floor.

I snapped my head around, my heart leaping straight into my throat.

Standing just a few feet away, stepping out from the shadows near the stairwell, was Sierra. Her perfect, highborn features were tight with an expression I couldn’t quite read, her sharp eyes instantly locking onto my trembling form.

My breath hitched; I scrambled to pull my hood down even lower, my hands shaking violently as I shoved them deep into my pockets, trying to hide the raw, ugly damage on my face.

She took a quick step forward, her eyes dropping to the floor where my key lay. She reached down, picked it up, and then held out a small, amber glass jar. The scent of crushed moon-lily and soothing herbs drifted from it—a high-grade healing salve.

"I brought you this," she said softly, her voice carrying a genuine warmth.

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