Deviant Kings: Claimed by The Four Lycan Kings

Adeline’s pov~

They looked devastatingly, dangerously handsome. Sculpted, razor-sharp jawlines, broad shoulders, immaculate dark brows, and pitch-black eyes that burned with raw, lethal dominance.

Every single wolf in the room lost complete control of their legs. Knees literally went fluid beneath them as the overwhelming Lycan pressure forced everyone into immediate, desperate submission.

Alpha Vane and the two battle-scarred committee members bolted out of their high chairs, their legs trembling as they scrambled to their feet and bowed their heads so low their noses nearly touched the wooden dais.

Lucas, Logan, and Chloe pushed themselves up so fast their chairs scraped violently against the marble floorboards.

Lucas looked like he was about to throw up from sheer panic, Logan’s face was completely drained of colour, and Chloe’s entire body was shaking as they all bowed down in terrified, desperate respect.

Everyone stood... except the person sitting right beside me, and me.

Why are they all here?

My mind raced in frantic, chaotic circles, my pulse hammering wildly against my ribs.

One Lycan Prince turning up to crash my execution was already insane. But all four of them? In the same room? What is going on?

They calmly glided over to my side of the U-shaped table. Their sharp, pitch-black eyes swept lazily over the entire courtroom, taking in the shaking committee members, Chloe’s trembling frame, and Logan’s pathetic, bandaged arm before finally landing straight on me.

As they approached, they shot Raven a subtle, unspoken ’got you, bro’ look, their sharp lips twitching into an amused, knowing smirk.

"Why the fuck is there even an RDC meeting happening right now?" Zyran demanded, his voice deep and dominant with Lycan power.

Alpha Vane swallowed hard, his face completely pale as his calloused hands trembled violently against the official ledger on the wooden dais.

"P-Princes... Lord Zyran, Lord Blake, Lord Keiran..." Alpha Vane stammered out, his gravelly voice cracking embarrassingly under the weight of four pureblood dominance waves crashing together.

"We... we were merely conducting a standard disciplinary hearing regarding an unsanctioned attack—"

Blake cut Alpha Vane off before the scarred Alpha could squeeze out another pathetic excuse.

"What are you even doing here, pretty girl? Weren’t you supposed to be in the study hall having lunch with Sierra?" Blake asked me, his voice ridiculously soft, smooth, and teasing, carrying that cool, effortless demeanour of his.

Blake casually pulled back the heavy wooden chair directly on my left and sat down, while Zyran pulled out the next one right beside him. Keiran pulled out the heavy chair right beside Raven on my far right, and settled into it with lethal, slow grace.

What the hell was that?

I stared at Blake in dead silence, my dark eyes wide.

I didn’t answer him. I couldn’t.

Why are they acting like this is just a casual, lazy morning hangout instead of a formal trial meant to end with my head on a spike? Why are all four of them sitting around me like a pack of wolves guarding their favourite bone?

Keiran spoke up next.

"How could she be having her lunch when she got dragged into the RDC court?" Keiran murmured, resting his broad elbows flat on the table and lacing his dark fingers together.

"By the way, what is this useless meeting even for?"

Keiran’s dark, sharp gaze turned freezing cold as he locked his eyes directly onto the three Crescent Pack Alphas standing frozen across from us.

Alpha Vane cleared his throat nervously, forcing out his words as he tried to keep his hands from shaking on the ledger.

"It’s... It’s the Crescent Pack, My Lord."

"They... they requested an immediate, emergency execution hearing," Vane stammered, his eyes darting nervously towards the Lycan Princes on his left before turning towards the three Alphas on his right.

"They provided official documentation stating that they operate under the High Concord’s direct jurisdiction! They hold a permanent, non-negotiable seat on the board of directors for this academy, My Lord. That is the sole reason this court was convened with such extreme urgency. It concerns a highborn Alpha heir who was brutally, viciously attacked with illegal silver by—"

"Oh? Do they really work under the High Concord?" Zyran cut in smoothly.

He leaned back in his heavy seat, resting his arm, his posture completely relaxed, yet dripping with absolute, terrifying authority.

"Well... that’s strange," Zyran added, tilting his head slightly as his pitch-black eyes fixed on Lucas. "I don’t remember a pack named ’the Crescent Pack’."

What did he just say?

He didn’t just insult them. He erased them.

He made sure every single person in that silent hall knew their exact, pathetic place. Right at the absolute bottom of the food chain.

Beside my chair, Raven let out a dark, low, amused chuckle.

"Yeah, it’s a minor detail, Zyran," Raven drawled, his tone dripping with lethal boredom. "It’s not surprising we don’t know the pack’s name. We deal with countless high-ranking, powerful territories every single day; small, irrelevant ones easily slip right through the cracks."

Chloe’s face turned a violent, bright crimson with pure, unadulterated rage.

Her manicured nails dug so hard into her palms I could see her skin stretching, her wide eyes burning into mine with a murderous, frantic heat.

Lucas and Logan just stood there beside her, completely paralysed, their mouths opening and closing, utterly unable to squeeze out a single word of defence.

Keiran tilted his head, his tone deceptively calm, as if he were just casually asking about the morning weather.

"So, let me get this straight," Keiran said, folding his arms across his broad chest as he looked up at the trembling RDC alphas.

"All this massive drama, all this grand court chaos, all this yelling... It’s all over some Alpha who got his little wrist scratched?"

Zyran’s gaze drifted slowly over to Logan’s right hand.

It was still wrapped up tight in thick white bandages, though dark, ugly black lines were visibly soaking through the cloth where my silver blade had burned through his skin.

"Oh..." Zyran murmured, a slow, dangerous smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, as his dark eyes locked onto the bandages with fake surprise.

"Logan... man, what on earth happened to your wrist?"

What kind of stupid, ridiculous question is that?

I scoffed inside my head, forcing my face to stay completely blank and deadpan.

He was literally standing a few feet away in the lecture hall this morning when I sliced Logan’s flesh wide open.

Now he’s sitting here acting totally clueless, like he has no idea how it got there?

I slowly turned my head to look at the three Alphas standing across from us. Lucas, Logan, and Chloe. All three of them had the same mix of shock, anger, and deep embarrassment written all over their pale faces.

It was painfully obvious to them that all four Lycan Princes were present during the incident and witnessed every single bloody second of it.

"Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it, Zyran?" Blake murmured.

"He must have slipped on the polished floor and accidentally placed his own wrist onto a sharp silver blade... or maybe he just got terribly hurt while trying to flex his non-existent skills with a knife."

I had to bite the absolute inside of my cheek until I tasted copper just to stop a dark, mocking smile from slipping out across my lips.

Beside me, I could feel Raven’s broad chest rumbling with a low, silent laugh.

Zyran fixed Logan with a cold, piercing look.

"Logan, you really shouldn’t go around playing with sharp knives when you clearly can’t handle the agonising consequences," Zyran said smoothly, his voice slicing through the silence.

"And besides... it’s not like your lowborn blood is the same as pure Lycan blood. You simply don’t heal fast enough for high-stakes games like that, do you?"

I knew exactly what he was implying, and the sheer disrespect of it was breathtaking.

The Alphas. They were inferior.

An ordinary Alpha’s regeneration power was weak, slow, and pathetic compared to a true Lycan’s ancient blood.

Pureblood Lycan blood could close a deadly wound in mere seconds, burning off poison and silver within minutes.

Zyran was openly mocking Logan’s weakness in front of the whole court, subtly reminding him that... he had no damn business putting his hands on me if he couldn’t take the brutal hit that came with it.

Wait... did he really mean that?

Well, maybe not. Why? Because he is Zyran.

Chloe, Lucas, and Logan stood frozen, completely humiliated, their pride stripped away piece by piece.

Unable to hold her toxic tongue for a single second longer, Chloe finally broke.

She stepped forward violently, her hands trembling as she forced her face into her best, most desperate, innocent expression.

"Lords!" Chloe cried out, her shrill voice dripping with pathetic, desperate pleading as she looked at the four princes.

"Our pack is the one that loyally serves under your command! We signed the territory deals! She is just a rogue, a scentless, useless, defective nobody who belongs in the dirt! You should be standing with us! You should cast out this crazy rogue who has no pack, no status, and doesn’t belong in this sacred academy! You are supposed to be on our side!"

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