Deviant Kings: Claimed by The Four Lycan Kings

"A wolfless charity case in an oversized hoodie," Zyran murmured, his voice dripping with pure venom and absolute arrogance. "It’s pathetic. She’s just some pathetic, gold-digging whore trying to play a high-stakes game. She probably figured out a way to get Raven’s attention by pretending to be a victim, hoping she can seduce an elite Alpha and claw her way into a high-tier pack. It’s the oldest trick in the book for females who have nothing else to offer."

Raven went out as soon as he got an important call. As the other three lycan kings sat in the front row after briefly glancing at Adeline, they spoke among themselves.

"Raven isn’t that easily fooled, Zyran," Kieran spoke up. "He has been trained to spot threats since he could walk. If he brought her into the elite wing, there is a legitimate reason. He wouldn’t risk the reputation of the council for a distraction."

"The reason is she’s a parasite, Kieran," Zyran snapped, his fingers tightening around his glass until his knuckles turned stark white. His dark charm turned entirely malicious. "These low-born females know exactly how to look fragile. They wear their rags, they act helpless, and they use their bodies to trick powerful Alphas into protecting them out of some misplaced sense of chivalry. She thinks because she caught Raven’s eye, she can walk around this academy like she owns a piece of the throne. She wants to see if she can break our circle."

"I don’t care who she seduced to get through those iron gates, and I don’t care what kind of sob story she told," Zyran growled softly, a low, menacing purr vibrating in his chest. "If she thinks she can use her little presence to disrupt our hierarchy, I will personally break her. By the time I’m done with her, she’ll realise that a faceless, wolfless piece of trash doesn’t belong in our world. I’ll make her beg to go back to whatever gutter she crawled out of."

Blake smirked. "Careful, Zyran. Raven looked pretty possessive out there. You might have to fight the Lord Protector for this one if you push her too hard."

"Let him try," Zyran whispered, his eyes burning with a cruel, obsessive intensity. "She wants our attention? I’ll give it to her. I’ll make her life a living hell on this campus. And I’ll make sure she regrets ever learning the name of the Kings."

~

Adeline’s POV~

"Oh, wow," Sierra whispered beside me, her voice shaking slightly. "Did you see that? Zyran was looking right up here. I think I forgot how to breathe."

It wasn’t just Zyran. As if a silent signal had passed between them, the other three shifted. Blake tilted his head back, his gaze lazily drifting up the tiers until his smirk sharpened with instant recognition. Even Kieran, who sat like a statue carved from midnight stone, glanced over his massive shoulder.

But it was Raven who made my chest ache. His movement was subtle, just a slight turn of his head, but when his eyes found mine, there was an intense, warning gravity in them.

Black eyes.

Every single one of them had eyes as dark as an abyss. It was the terrifying trademark of the royal Lycan bloodlines. While standard Alphas had eyes that flared gold, red, or amber when their wolves took over, the purebred Lycan royals possessed irises of a solid, bottomless black—a physical manifestation of a darkness older than the packs themselves. Looking at the four of them from a distance was like staring into four distinct storms.

You survived the Crescent Pack, I reminded myself fiercely. You survived the cold, the hunger, and the dirt. You can survive a classroom.

"Adeline? Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost," Sierra murmured, gently nudging my elbow.

"I’m fine," I choked out, forcing my grip on the pen to relax. I drew a slow, deliberate breath, forcing my heart to slow down. I am just a student. I am nobody. "Just... overwhelmed. The pressure in here is heavy."

"Tell me about it," Sierra sighed, finally looking away to rifle through her bag. "They don’t even have to try. They exist, and the rest of us starve for air."

Professor Edward—a silver-haired alpha with an imposing stature—stepped onto the central podium. He slammed a massive, leather-bound tome onto the desk, the loud thud instantly silencing the remaining whispers in the room.

"Welcome to Advanced Pack History and Strategy," Professor Vance announced, his voice carrying effortlessly up the steep tiers. "In this hall, your highborn titles mean nothing. Here, we study the rise and fall of empires, the bloodlines that shaped our world, and the strategic errors that led to the extinction of lesser packs. Open your texts to Chapter one: The Age of the First Lycan Kings."

Beside me, Sierra scrambled to open her textbook, her pen clicking nervously. I kept my head low, pulling my notebook closer, but I could still feel the heavy, oppressive weight of the front row.

Even with his back turned to the class, Raven’s broad shoulders were rigid. Next to him, Zyran was leaning back, tapping a silver pen against his chin, his casual posture masking a dangerous, sharp focus.

"Let us begin with the fundamental rule of Lycan territory," Professor Vance said, pacing the podium. "Blood dictates dominance. But strategy dictates survival. Can anyone tell me the primary catalyst behind the Great Eclipse War of the third century?"

A dozen hands shot up instantly from the middle tiers, eager to impress the faculty and the Kings. But before the professor could call on anyone, Zyran spoke up without even raising his hand, his smooth baritone cutting through the room with effortless arrogance.

"The expansion of the eastern borders," Zyran said. "The Crescent Pack attempted to claim the neutral silver-oak valleys, failing to realise the Royal House of Dravenmoor had already mapped their supply lines. They were choked out within three moons. An amateur mistake by a pack that thought too highly of its own strength."

Hearing the name Crescent Pack sent a violent, icy jolt straight through my chest.

My fingers tightened around my pen so hard the plastic creaked. Images of the twin Alphas, the cold stone floor, and the smoke flashed behind my eyes. I forced my breathing to stay deadpan, pulling the hood of my blank blazer slightly lower to shadow my face. Don’t show a reaction. He doesn’t know. He’s just talking about history.

"Correct, Lord Zyran," Professor Vance nodded, turning to trace a map on the large blackboard. "The Crescent Pack’s failure was an inability to hide their movements. A dominant pack must always anticipate the shadows."

"Speaking of shadows," Blake’s voice chimed in, rich with a teasing amusement that vibrated up the tiers. He turned slightly in his seat, his gaze lazily drifting up toward the back corner where I sat. "Sometimes the most interesting things hide right in plain sight. Isn’t that right, Professor? A strategy is only effective if you know every piece on the board."

A few students shifted in their seats, their eyes following Blake’s line of sight straight to my desk. My heart hammered against my ribs.

"Lord Blake," Professor Vance warned, his eyes narrowing from behind the podium. "Keep your commentary strictly to the curriculum."

"Just making an observation, sir," Blake smirked, turning back around with a careless shrug, though his shoulder brushed against Raven’s, who remained entirely, terrifyingly still.

For the next forty minutes, I wrote down every word mechanically, using the steady scratching of my pen to anchor myself to reality. Sierra kept leaning over, whispering small comments about how intense the front row was, but I only gave short, quiet nods. I had to be a ghost. A nobody.

"For your first assignment," Professor Vance announced as the clock neared the hour, "you will pair up. I expect a comprehensive tactical analysis of the Siege of Red River by tomorrow morning. Choose your partners."

Instantly, the quiet theater erupted into a flurry of movement and loud chatter. Highborn girls flocked toward the front row, surrounding Blake and Zyran like a colorful wave of silk and perfume, while others quickly paired off within their own pack factions.

"Hey, do you want to—" Sierra started, turning to me with a hopeful look.

Before she could finish her sentence, a massive shadow fell over our desks, blocking out the light entirely.

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