Deviant Kings: Claimed by The Four Lycan Kings

Adeline’s pov~

So Zyran didn’t exactly order those mercenaries to tear me apart? To rip away my dignity, break my body, and throw me to bleed out in the freezing mud?

So someone else entirely wanted me dead.

God, I didn’t know why, but a sick, desperate part of me wanted it to be true.

I wanted to believe that Zyran wasn’t the monster who had signed my death warrant. I wanted to believe that the world wasn’t entirely rotten to its core.

But a sharper, more sensible voice screamed from deep inside my chest, warning me not to be a complete fool. Trusting a Lycan Prince’s words was a fast way to get buried six feet under.

Sierra sat across from me, her jaw practically unhinged, looking like she had just watched a ghost rise from the grave. She was too stunned to even dig into her own plate.

I sat there in heavy, suffocating silence because, honestly, I didn’t even know how to explain everything to her.

How could I? I was confused as fuck myself. Was Blake lying? Was Zyran playing a twisted psychological game? Or was there a far darker predator hiding in the shadows of this academy, pulling strings I couldn’t even see? Is what Blake said true?

I slowly took a sip of the sweet juice, letting the cool liquid wash down my parched throat.

I let my gaze drift past Sierra’s shoulder toward the archway of the study hall, watching a shadow slice across the sunlit marble floor.

That familiar, haughty figure stepped into the light.

Oh no... my Goddess... Not now! I’m really not ready for her right now.

Miya strutted down the central aisle, her chin held high, flanked by the same two highborn girls from earlier this morning, who blocked my way when I was in a rush to find Sierra. Her eyes were locked onto me with pure, dripping venom.

She walked straight up to my table, planting her manicured hands onto the polished wood, leaning down until her face was inches from mine.

"Well, well, look what we have here," Miya sneered, her voice carrying a loud, grating pitch. "Isn’t this the little wolfless defect who’s about to be thrown out of the academy?"

A laugh erupted among them.

I casually set my glass down on the table, keeping my left hand buried comfortably deep inside my hoodie pocket, my thumb resting against the cold, quiet hilt of my blade.

"Are you done barking, Miya?" I asked, my voice dropping into a flat, icy register that made the smile fade slightly from Miya’s face. "Because every time you open your mouth, Miya, I’m reminded of why I prefer the company of rogues over highborn hypocrites."

Miya’s face flushed a deep, violent crimson, her eyes flashing with a dangerous glint.

"You arrogant little bitch! Do you have any idea who my father is? Do you really think you can survive in this academy after all the things you have done?"

"I don’t care who your father is," I murmured, leaning in just a fraction closer, letting my dark eyes lock onto hers with a lethal, unblinking stillness. "And if you don’t take your hands off my table in the next three seconds, you’re going to find out if highborn blood tastes any different from Logan’s."

Miya brushed it off with a harsh, violent scoff as she continued, "Did you really think slicing an Alpha was going to make you look like a hero, you scentless freak? You’re nothing more than trash waiting for the sweeper."

One of the highborn girls beside her let out a cruel, sharp laugh. "Honestly, I don’t buy it... she sliced Alpha Logan’s wrist? Oh, my goddess, please—there is no fucking way a wolfless, pathetic defect hiding inside that oversized hoodie actually drew blood from an Alpha."

Yeah, they definitely wouldn’t believe it. Since they haven’t been there to see it happen. Since they missed it, maybe I should show them a live performance by slicing those makeup-packed faces.

"Yeah, even I don’t believe it either," Miya chimed in, a nasty, smug grin spreading across her face as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"She probably used some cheap, pathetic trick like the cowards she comes from. But it doesn’t make sense, but it doesn’t even fucking matter now, does it? RDC has officially been gathered to throw your useless, scentless ass right out of this academy."

The second highborn girl smirked, leaning in with her eyes glittering with cold malice.

"I heard Alpha Logan and his sister are from the Crescent Pack. Their family holds an official seat on the academy board ever since they signed that deal with the High Concord. A deal directly under the four Lycan dynasties... a deal every pack in this territory would fucking die for."

"Exactly," Miya sneered, tapping her sharp, painted nails against the wood of my table. "They have deep connections with the academy board and direct ties to the High Concord. You’re completely fucked, Adeline. There is no way out of this for you. Ready to be packed up and thrown into the gutters where you belong?"

I sat completely still, my thumb slowly tracing the edge of my glass, listening to the high-pitched venom spewing from her mouth.

My mind was already exhausted from Blake’s secrets and Zyran’s impossible apology, and now I had to sit here and listen to these royal lapdogs bark?

"There is literally no one left to save you," Miya continued, her tone dripping with absolute delight. "After the pathetic stunt you pulled last night? You walked straight out on Lord Raven in the royal hall like an idiot. You slapped Lord Zyran across the face in front of the court. I was honestly fucking surprised he even showed up to save your skin this morning when we blocked your path..."

Wait... what? It was Zyran this morning. The Lycan who stepped behind me was him?

"Oh, come on," the other girl cut in with a harsh laugh. "He didn’t show up to save her, Miya! He’s probably just planning to make her death agonisingly slow. He wants to tear her apart with his own hands, and he doesn’t want anyone else taking his kill."

Miya scoffed, rolling her eyes as she glared down at me. "Honestly? I still don’t fucking believe you sliced an Alpha’s wrist open in broad daylight. Look at you, hiding inside that dark hoodie like a rat. You don’t have the guts to draw highborn blood."

That was it. That was the exact moment the last thin thread of my restraint snapped into pieces.

I stood up slowly.

Miya flinched slightly, taking a half-step back as my tall frame rose, but she quickly forced her arrogant smirk back onto her face. The entire archive went dead silent again.

Sierra sat across from me, her eyes wide with sheer panic as she realised what I was about to do.

"Oh?" I said, my voice dropping into a low, lethal register. "So you don’t believe I sliced Logan’s wrist? You think it was a trick?"

I took a slow, deliberate step around the heavy table, my dark eyes locked onto Miya’s face like a predator cornering its prey.

"Okay, fine," I whispered, reaching deep into my right sleeve. "You want me to give you a live fucking trial, Miya? Want me to show you exactly how smooth a silver blade slides through highborn skin?"

I pulled my finger out.

With a quick, practiced flick of my fingers, the sharp silver blade popped into the light, twirling effortlessly between my fingers like a lethal toy. I let it spin over my knuckles with terrifying precision.

I stopped in front of her, my gaze hollow, dark, and utterly unhinged as I let the razor-sharp tip point straight at her throat and pulled away slowly.

"Who else wants a demonstration?" I asked softly, my eyes flicking to the two terrified girls behind her. "Step right up."

Sierra bolted out of her chair. The wooden legs scraped violently against the floor as she threw her body between us, her hands coming up to grip my forearms, staying carefully clear of the spinning silver.

"Adeline, no!" Sierra pleaded, her voice a tense, frantic whisper that rattled with panic. "Don’t do it! We need to go right now. Just leave this fucking bitch and her lapdogs for now!"

Miya swallowed hard, her arrogant sneer faltering for a single fraction of a second as her eyes locked onto the lethal glint of the silver spinning over my knuckles.

"Come on, Adeline," Sierra tugged harder on my hoodie sleeve, her eyes wide with urgency as she leaned in close to my ear. "Forget about them. We need to go figure out what the hell is going on with the RDC."

A long, suffocating silence stretched across the aisle. I let the blade spin one last full circle across my fingers before snapping it back into my palm with a quiet, practised click. With a flick of my wrist, the silver glided effortlessly back into the hidden shadow of my hoodie sleeve.

"Consider yourself lucky, Miya," I said. "Next time you open your mouth to bark at me, make sure you’re ready to pay for every single word with your own blood."

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