Deviant Kings: Claimed by The Four Lycan Kings

Adeline’s pov~

"Shut up if you want to live," a harsh, lethal whisper breathed directly against my ear.

The hand slowly slid off my mouth, leaving behind the faint, dangerous scent. I spun around in the damp gloom, gasping for air, my eyes wide and wild as they adjusted to the dark.

"Kieran?" I breathed, my voice barely audible.

He leaned his heavy frame back against the cold stone wall, his sharp grey eyes, locking onto mine like a predator sizing up its prey. His jaw was clenched so hard the muscles flexed in sharp ridges, his chest rising and falling in shallow, rigid breaths.

He stood there—a terrifying figure carved from marble, completely silent, completely lethal.

Gods, if he realises why I’m actually down here, he won’t just turn me in. He’ll destroy me himself.

"What the hell are you doing down here, Adeline?" Kieran demanded, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp, low hiss that vibrated in the air between us. "Are you actively trying to get yourself executed? Do you have a death wish?"

"I was looking for you," I lied instantly, the words falling smooth and fast off my tongue.

His dark eyebrows knit together, a fleeting flicker of genuine shock cracking through his usual unbreakable mask. "Me?"

"It’s about the team project," I rushed out. "I’ve practically finished my portion, but I need specific historical references to pull the whole thing together. References that are strictly restricted to the Four Thrones. I came down here to find the hidden archives in the subterranean library, and I—"

"You heard what Raven said in the hall, didn’t you?" Kieran cut me off effortlessly. His voice was flat, sharp, and entirely stripped of patience.

I swallowed hard.

My throat was so dry it felt like dragging broken glass over raw skin. "Yes, but—"

"Did you throw up his blood or not?" he demanded, taking a heavy step directly into my personal space.

His shadow loomed over me, completely blotting out the faint torchlight from the corridor. His dark eyes tracked my face, searching for the smallest micro-expression, the briefest hitch in my pulse, the tiny tremor in my lip.

"Answer me, Adeline."

"No," I lied again, keeping my chin tilted high, forcing my face to stay completely blank. "I didn’t."

"Don’t play games with me. Tell me the truth. Did your body reject the Lycan blood? Did you vomit it up?"

A sick, twisted laugh bubbled up at the back of my throat, but I choked it down, tasting the bitter tang of my own fear.

Is this some kind of sadistic joke written by the Moon Goddess? I thought bitterly, my mind spiraling into dark memories. Back then, the twin alphas shattered every piece of my soul. They rejected me, discarded me like utter garbage, and branded me a scentless defect left to rot in the mud. And now what? Is the Second Throne supposed to be my grand saviour? Am I expected to fall to my knees and thank the heavens for chaining me to another ruthless Lycan?

Never.

I would tear my own heart out of my chest with my bare hands before I let it happen.

No way, it is not possible that I am bonded to Lord Raven. There must be a mistake.

"I took his blood, and my body absorbed every single drop," I lied, staring straight into his eyes.

"I’m completely healed. Look at me! Not a single bruise left on my skin. I didn’t throw up anything."

"So now," I whispered, my voice dripping with cold steel, "are you going to help me finish our project, or are you just going to stand there interrogating me all night?"

Kieran stared down at me for three agonising, suffocating seconds.

His razor-sharp gaze scanned every millimetre of my face, hunting for a lie, a slip in my heart rate, a microscopic flicker of doubt.

He turned on his heel without another word and started walking down the dark, damp corridor, clearly expecting me to fall into line.

"Come," he tossed back over his shoulder, his voice a gravelly, low command.

I let out a slow, silent breath, my knuckles turning white where they clutched the heavy notebook hidden inside my hoodie pocket. I fell into step right behind his towering shadow.

I’m in.

We reached the massive, ancient double doors of the restricted library. The hand scanner mounted into the stone wall glowed with an eerie, pulsing green light, casting long, sinister shadows across our faces.

Kieran stepped up to the panel, pressing his wide palm flat against the cold glass. A deep hum vibrated through the air, followed by the heavy, mechanical clack of iron locks disengaging.

The heavy doors swung inward without making a sound, revealing the towering, cavernous dark of the restricted archives. The heavy smell of ancient leather, centuries-old dust, and dried herbs immediately washed over my senses.

Come on, Adeline, I coaxed myself, my heart hammering a frantic, erratic beat against my ribs as I stepped over the threshold. This is it. Your only chance. You’ve risked your life for this moment.

I didn’t care about a stupid fake team project.

The dark truth about my parents was hidden somewhere on these forbidden shelves—and I was going to rip it out of the darkness before the sun came up, no matter what it cost me.

Kieran didn’t offer a tour. He stepped back into the farthest corner of the silent library, leaning his broad frame casually against a thick mahogany pillar.

Crossing his arms over his chest, his grey eyes tracked my every move.

I moved along the towering shelves of the restricted section, pulling down thick, leather-bound ledgers under the pretence of searching for ancient territory maps. My hand grabbed the ledger for the project, but my eyes were still searching for the only thing that I came here for.

My blood was racing, but my hands stayed steady and methodical, skimming over yellowed pages, hunting desperately for any record tied to my family’s disgraced name.

"From which year have these historical records been maintained?" I asked, forcing my voice to sound smooth and casual to break the suffocating silence. "How far back does this vault actually go?"

"Twenty years," Kieran answered from the shadows, his tone low, flat, and completely unreadable. "Why?"

"Just curious," I murmured, sliding another heavy ledger from the shelf and flipping through the dusty pages.

"These must be exceptionally important if no one is allowed in here except the Four Thrones."

He didn’t answer.

He just gave a single, barely perceptible tilt of his head, remaining completely still in his corner.

The silence slammed back down on us.

Then, his voice sliced straight through the dark.

"What happened to your pack, Adeline?" he asked softly, every word echoing in the quiet room. "Why did they really cast you out?"

I froze instantly.

My fingers remained glued flat against the ancient page, my spine going completely rigid. I didn’t turn around.

I didn’t lift my head.

My breath caught sharply in my throat as my mind raced to construct another lie before he saw the raw horror flashing across my face.

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