Deviant Kings: Claimed by The Four Lycan Kings

Adeline’s pov~

"But you’re going to need help with the spots further back. You can’t reach your own shoulder blade without twisting your torso, and if you do that, you’re going to pass—"

"Get out. Now."

A deep, rough voice from the dorm door cut Sierra off.

I snapped my head toward the entryway.

Raven stood inside the threshold. He hadn’t just walked in; he had materialised from the dark, his towering frame completely consuming the doorway.

His dark cloak hung heavy around his shoulders, but it was his face that made the breath die in my throat. His jaw was clenched so hard the bone looked ready to snap, and his eyes—usually a deep, calculating obsidian—were entirely swallowed by a pitch-black, feral vacuum.

His gaze didn’t even flick to Sierra.

It went straight to me.

More specifically, it locked onto my exposed waist, the violent purple and black boot prints stamped into my skin, and the fact that I was sitting there in nothing but my top and bra.

A low, dangerous rumble vibrated deep within his chest, a sound so primal it made the hairs on my arms stand up.

Sierra instantly scrambled to her feet, her own Alpha instincts flaring defensively as she stepped between the Prince of the Second Throne. "Lord Raven? What do you think you’re doing barging into a female dorm—"

"I said," Raven rasped, his voice dropping into a lethal, deadpan wire that vibrated through the floorboards, "get out. I won’t repeat myself."

The sheer weight of Raven’s Lycan energy slammed into the small room like a collapsing wall.

Sierra froze mid-sentence, the words dying in her throat as her alpha instincts were instantly crushed by his ancient, dominant power. She looked at him in absolute terror, then shot me a desperate, helpless glance before backing out of the room. The door clicked shut behind her.

Panic spiked through my chest.

I scrambled, ignoring the agonising scream from my ribs, and frantically yanked my black hoodie back over my head, hiding my exposed skin from his dark, scanning eyes.

"Get out," I breathed, my voice shaking as I backed up against the headboard of my bed. "Raven, get the hell out of my room."

He didn’t move toward the door.

Instead, he took a slow, heavy step closer, his boots thudding against the floorboards. The pitch-black vacuum in his eyes was terrifying, his jaw locked tight in a silent, explosive fury.

"Sit back down, Adeline," he commanded, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that rattled the windowpanes.

"No," I snapped, glaring right back at him. I forced myself to stand up, even though the pain in my torso almost made my knees buckle. I stood my ground, my chin lifted, staring directly into the dark void of his eyes. "I told you to leave. You don’t get to command me. Get out!"

Raven looked at me, his gaze dropping to my split lip and the heavy bruising on my face before locking back onto my eyes. He was daring me to defy him, his chest heaving as he fought down the feral beast clawing inside him.

"You think you’re strong enough to stand right now?" he growled, stepping right into my personal space. "Look at you. You’re trembling."

"I said, leave!" I pushed at his massive chest with my good hand, but it was like trying to move a mountain. "I don’t want you here!"

Raven cursed under his breath, a sharp, vicious sound. Before I could blink, his large hands gripped my shoulders. He didn’t hurt me, but the sheer force of his movement pushed me backwards until I hit the mattress, forcing me to sit down.

"Stay down," he growled, his voice dropping into a dangerous, animalistic register.

As I opened my mouth to scream at him again, a sharp click echoed in the quiet room. His lips parted, and elongated, razor-sharp fangs slid down over his teeth, gleaming white against the dim light.

I choked on my breath, my blood running cold.

Without breaking eye contact, Raven raised his right hand, clenched his fist, and brought his own fangs down hard onto his palm.

He tore the skin open in one clean, brutal motion. Dark, thick royal blood welled up instantly, spilling over the edges of his hand and dripping onto the floorboards.

He thrust his bleeding palm right in front of my face.

"Drink," he demanded, his voice raw, shaking with a volatile mix of anger and desperate authority. "Drink it, Adeline. Now."

I stared at the thick, dark crimson pooling in his palm, the metallic scent of his blood instantly hitting my nose.

My stomach did a violent flip. Every human instinct I had left screamed at me to recoil, to push his hand away and scream for help.

Shifter blood was pure, volatile magic, and drinking it straight from a Lycan prince was unheard of.

Lycan’s Royal Blood cures anything. Literally anything: deep cuts, wounds, crushed ribs, bruised face.

"Are you insane?" I gasped, my voice cracking as I pressed myself further back against the headboard, my hands gripping the bedsheets. "I’m not drinking that! Get that away from me!"

"Drink it!" Raven roared, the sound vibrating so deeply in his chest it felt like a physical blow.

He lunged forward, dropping to one knee right in front of the bed so we were at eye level.

His bleeding palm stayed locked inches from my lips, the heat radiating from it washing over my cold skin.

"Your body is failing, Adeline. You’re bleeding internally, your ribs are crushed, and you don’t have a wolf to heal any of it. If you don’t take this, you’re going to go into shock before the night ends, or it will get even worse."

"I don’t care!" I yelled back, tears of sheer pain and frustration finally burning the edges of my eyes. "I don’t want your blood, Raven! I don’t want your magic, and I don’t want to be tied to you! Just leave me alone!"

"You think this is about what you want?" he hissed, his pitch-black eyes flaring with a dangerous, possessive light that sent a shiver straight down my spine. His jaw flexed, his fangs still bared, sharp and lethal. "I am not letting you die in this room because of your stubborn pride."

"It’s my choice!"

"Not this time," he growled.

Before I could scream, his large, calloused right hand shot out, wrapping gently but completely unyieldingly around the back of my neck. He tilted my head back, pinning me in place.

The sheer dominance in his grip paralyzed me, my breath hitching in my throat. He pressed his bleeding right palm firmly against my lips.

The metallic taste hit my tongue, hot and thick.

"Swallow," he commanded, his voice dropping into a low, hypnotic whisper. "Drink it, Adeline. Let me heal you. Please."

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