Deviant Kings: Claimed by The Four Lycan Kings

Adeline’s pov~

"I know you want them completely wrapped around your little fingers."

"I know you crave having both these braindead twins so fucking devoted to you that they’d bark on command. But it seems like all your desperate, little games didn’t quite work out the way you planned, did they?"

Chloe’s eyes narrowed, her fake, fragile act instantly cracking right down the middle. "What the fuck are you talking about, Adeline?"

"You played your cards so carefully," I continued, ignoring her sharp tone as I tilted my head, mocking her with my eyes.

"You made them break the soul-bond, the mate bond the Moon Goddess gave us. You turned the entire pack against me, dragged my name through the mud, and had me thrown out like trash. And yet... even with me out of the picture for a year now... you still haven’t gotten what you actually wanted, have you?"

"Shut your damn mouth!" Lucas shouted, slamming his heavy hand on the table again with enough force to rattle the wooden legs.

Are they embarrassed now?

I kept my eyes locked entirely on Chloe, watching the colour slowly drain from her pale cheeks.

"If I remember correctly," I said softly, letting each word hang heavy in the freezing air of the court, "your eighteenth birthday was just a few days ago, wasn’t it, Chloe? The big, glorious milestone where a highborn wolf finally gets mated."

Chloe went completely rigid, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard.

"So tell me..." I purred, my voice dropping into a lethal, mocking whisper, "why haven’t they marked you yet?"

"I remember it crystal fucking clear," I continued, feeling a dark, twisted sense of satisfaction rising in my chest as the memories flashed in my mind.

"The night they tore my bond apart, Logan stood right in front of my bleeding body and swore that the second you turned eighteen, you would be claimed as their Luna. You would bear their mark. You would bear their heir. So... what the hell is stopping them now?"

"Adeline, shut the fuck up!" Logan snarled, his face turning an ugly, furious shade of crimson, his chest heaving with uncontrolled rage.

"Because if you were actually mated to him... if he had marked you as his true Luna, his body would be flooded with your bond’s power right now," I pressed, my dark eyes boring straight into Chloe’s trembling form.

"A simple physical connection—a touch, a kiss, a bite, maybe just sex from a mated Luna—speeds up an Alpha’s regeneration tenfold. That black, agonising silver stain on his wrist would have vanished in what?... like twenty minutes instead of burning through his flesh for hours."

I let out a low, cold scoff, my smirk widening as I watched the utter humiliation paint itself across all three of their faces.

"So why is he still bleeding, Chloe?" I asked, my voice slicing through the dead quiet like a razor.

"Why is your almighty Alpha sitting there squirming in pain right next to you, while his precious, perfect Luna can’t do a single fucking thing to heal him? He hasn’t claimed you or marked you as his Luna at all, has he?"

"That is none of your fucking business, you scentless defect!" Lucas roared, his Alpha aura surging out in a desperate wave of intimidation to cover up their shame.

"Our pack traditions are sacred! We aren’t going to claim her in some dark corner like cheap bastards! Within a month, we are holding a grand ceremony in front of the entire Crescent Pack and the highborn elders. She will be marked legally, publicly, and grandly as our true Luna!"

"That’s right," Logan growled through gritted teeth, his voice shaking with humiliation as he clutched his burning, black-stained wrist under the table. "In four weeks, she will wear our mark, and you will still be nothing but trash rotting in the gutters."

A slow, serene smile spread across my face.

I simply leaned back in my heavy chair, smoothly sliding both of my hands deep into my hoodie pockets.

"A month, huh?" I murmured, my voice chillingly quiet. "I’ll be sure to save a seat."

Before either twin could scream out another fury-filled threat, the massive, vaulted wooden doors at the far end of the hall swung open.

The ambient noise vanished entirely as three towering figures stepped into the court, their suffocating, pureblood Alpha pressure washing over the floor like a tidal wave.

The Royal Disciplinary Committee heads had finally arrived.

As the three committee heads walked toward the high wooden dais at the front of the U-shaped court, I stood up from my seat and bowed slightly, keeping my posture rigid and my head tilted just a bit.

They were purebloods from the old territory—older, battle-scarred Alphas. They wore the long, charcoal-grey robes of the Royal Disciplinary Committee, lined with silver thread that gleamed like exposed blades under the dim chandeliers.

The Alpha in the centre, a towering man with silver-streaked hair and a jagged scar cutting straight through his left brow, didn’t even bother to look at us as he pulled back his heavy carved chair.

Chloe, Logan, and Lucas immediately bowed deeply to the three old Alphas, their posture stiff and desperate to show respect. I kept my bow shallow, my body rigid, before we all sat back down in the suffocating silence.

The central committee head. Alpha Vane.

Settled into his high-backed seat. He rested his heavy, calloused hands flat on the dark wood, his sharp, amber eyes sweeping across the court.

They slid right past Lucas, Chloe then lingered for a fraction of a second on Logan’s heavily bandaged, black-stained right wrist, and finally landed directly on me.

"The Royal Disciplinary Committee of the High Concord is now in session," Vane said, his voice a low, gravelly baritone. "We are here to address an unsanctioned act of violence committed within the central lecture halls of this academy."

He leaned back slightly.

"Accused," Vane said, his amber eyes locking onto mine with lethal clarity. "Adeline. Transfer student."

Transfer student? Aren’t they also a transfer student?

I forgot. They are also a member of the board of directors.

Special acknowledgement for them.

I could feel the wave of silent disgust coming off all three of them.

The three alphas from the crescent pack.

The three alpha members of RDC.

They clearly didn’t know I was under Second Throne’s direct protection. To these ancient, battle-scarred highborns, the second they took a breath and smelled nothing coming from me—no wolf scent, no power, no royal bloodline—they instantly dismissed me as an insignificant insect.

I knew it. I can say it from the way they look at me with disgust.

Eyes don’t lie, do they?

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