Deviant Kings: Claimed by The Four Lycan Kings

Adeline’s pov~

I kept my chin tucked tight, ensuring the dark fabric of my hood completely shadowed my ruined face.

"Why aren’t you at the arena?" I asked, my voice a cracked, defensive whisper. "The combat trials started an hour ago. You’re supposed to be competing."

Sierra let out a soft sigh, stepping closer. "How the hell am I supposed to focus on a combat trial after seeing you run like that? After seeing you hurt? Look at you, you have badly injured."

"No," I snapped quietly, pulling my shoulders back despite the agony screaming through my ribs. "You don’t have to do this, Sierra. Go back to the trials. Don’t ruin your ranking for me."

Instead of listening, Sierra just shook her head, pushed right past my shoulder, picked up the key, and unlocked the door herself. She threw it open and marched straight into my dorm room, completely ignoring my protests.

"Shut up and get in here," she said, turning back to look at me with a stubborn smile. "That is exactly what best friends are for. Now come on, sit down, and let me apply this for you before you pass out on your feet."

I stared at her back for a split second, my chest tight with a mixture of raw exhaustion and a dangerous spark of hope.

In a place where everyone carried a knife behind their back, Sierra’s stubbornness felt like a lifeline.

That is exactly what best friends are for. Those simple words felt like warmth. So, I do have someone who genuinely cares for me?

I dragged myself inside and shut the heavy wooden door, the click of the lock offering a brief, fragile sense of safety.

The room was dim, the afternoon light barely cutting through the thick curtains. I slowly pulled the hood off my head, letting it fall back onto my shoulders.

Sierra gasped, the small amber jar rattling slightly in her hand. Her eyes went wide as she took in the full extent of the damage—the deep, ugly purple swelling eating up the left side of my face, the split lip, and the way I was holding my arm tightly against my chest to protect my shattered ribs.

"God, Adeline," she whispered, her voice dropping all its playful armor. Her highborn composure cracked, replaced by a flash of genuine horror. "What the hell happened? Who the fuck did this to you? Was it... was it really Lord Zyran?"

I winced as I sat down heavily on the edge of the mattress, the springs groaning beneath me. Just the mention of his name made my stomach turn over in absolute disgust.

"Don’t say his name. He hired the wolves who was caught at the perimeter this morning. He wanted me broken to keep me away from Raven."

Sierra walked over swiftly, kneeling on the floor right in front of me. She unscrewed the jar, the sharp, cooling scent of moon-lily instantly filling the space between us.

"That royal bastard," she hissed under her breath, her fingers dipping into the translucent green salve. "He thinks because he sits on the Third Throne, he can treat people like garbage. Here, hold still."

She gently pressed her fingertips against my swollen cheekbone.

The moment the ointment touched my skin, a freezing, numbing sensation washed over the burning heat, instantly dulling the sharp, throbbing ache.

I let out a ragged breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding, my shoulders slumping slightly.

"Thanks," I muttered, my voice raw. "You really shouldn’t be here, Sierra. If the enforcers find out you skipped the trials for a scentless defect, your house will lose standing."

"Let them talk," Sierra said fiercely, her eyes locked on her work as she carefully dabbed the medicine near the corner of my split lip. "House standing doesn’t mean shit if I let my only real friend bleed out alone in a dorm room"

She paused, looking up into my eyes, her expression turning deeply serious. "But Adeline... you can’t stay here if the princes are actively hunting you. If Zyran wants you gone, he won’t stop at a warning. We need to figure out a plan."

I watched her fingers move gently across my skin, the cooling magic of the salve working its way into my bruised flesh.

The silence in the room grew heavy, suffocating the small space between us. I swallowed hard, the taste of copper still lingering on my tongue.

"Sierra," I spoke up, my voice rough and quiet.

She paused, her fingertips hovering just an inch from my face. "Yeah?"

"You’re an Alpha," I said, my eyes locking directly onto hers, refusing to look away.

"You’re from a high house. From the very beginning, you knew I was scentless. You knew I didn’t have a wolf, and now seeing me beaten like this by rogues... it completely confirms it. I’m a liability. A defect."

I leaned back slightly, pulling away from her touch just enough to force her to really look at me. "So why haven’t you asked anything? Why don’t you demand to know what I am? Aren’t you even a little curious if I’m really just a broken, wolfless rogue hiding out in your academy?"

Sierra slowly lowered her hand, the amber glass jar resting against her knee.

She didn’t flinch away from my gaze, nor did her expression shift into the judgment or disgust I had grown so used to bracing myself for. Instead, she just let out a soft, breathy laugh and shook her head.

"No," she said simply.

I blinked, the bluntness of her answer catching me completely off guard. My chest tightened, a defensive wall automatically slamming up in my mind.

"No? What do you mean, no? Sierra, you’re an Alpha. Your entire biology is wired to care about status, bloodlines, and power. I’m a ghost walking among wolves. I asked why you haven’t demanded answers from me."

"Because you are my best friend and I like you," she said, looking right at me, her sharp eyes completely steady. "It’s really that simple, Adeline. I don’t give a damn about what’s missing inside you, or what kind of tragic backstory you’re hiding under that oversized hoodie."

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