Marked By The Monster: The Lycan King's Bride

I stood at the altar, ready to bind my soul to Holden, the man I had loved since we were pups. But the moment his stepsister, Jaidyn, let out a shrill scream, he ripped his hand away from mine. He abandoned me in front of the entire pack, cradling her in his arms and claiming his wolf had chosen her over me. The humiliation didn't end there. When I tried to leave, Holden kidnapped me. He locked a silver collar around my neck, searing my skin and cutting off my connection to the world. He dragged me to a filthy dungeon, ignoring my screams, and began draining my blood to "save" Jaidyn. As my life force faded into the IV bag, I watched Jaidyn smirk behind his back, her "wounds" healing instantly. Holden called me a monster for hurting her, blind to the truth. To him, I was just a weak, latent wolf—a spare blood bag for his mistress. But they made a fatal mistake. They didn't know that the "weakness" inside me was actually a dormant power waiting to explode. And they certainly didn't know that my rejection of Holden had already summoned a new mate. The terrifying Lycan King, Alphons, was coming. And when he arrives, he will burn their world to the ground. Chapter 1 Eloise POV: The Moon Stone was cold against my bare feet, a sharp contrast to the humid summer air, but it did nothing to cool the nausea churning in my gut. This was supposed to be a rehearsal. Just a practice run for the Mating Ceremony that would bind my soul to Holden’s forever. The pack gathered around the altar, their murmurs low and respectful. The Bowers Pack territory was beautiful tonight, bathed in the silver light of the full moon. I looked at Holden. My fiancé. The man I had loved since we were pups. He looked handsome in his ceremonial robes, but his focus was entirely elsewhere. His gaze kept snapping toward the front row, where his stepsister, Jaidyn, sat. She looked fragile, wrapped in three layers of blankets despite the heat. "Eloise," Holden said, his voice trembling slightly. "Are you ready to recite the vows?" "I am," I smiled, though my wolf paced uneasily inside me. She didn't like this. She didn't like him. But as a latent wolf with dormant powers, I usually ignored her instincts. Just as I reached for Holden’s hand, a shrill scream pierced the air. Jaidyn collapsed. She fell from her chair like a broken doll, convulsing on the grass. A scent hit my nose immediately—not the fresh pine of the forest, but something cloyingly sweet, like rotting lilies. It was the scent of a dying wolf. "Jaidyn!" Holden screamed. He didn't just turn. He abandoned me. He ripped his hand away from mine so violently I stumbled back against the stone altar. He was at her side in a second, scooping her up. "Her wolf is fading!" Jaidyn’s mother shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at me. "The ceremony! The energy is too strong for her delicate constitution! Stop it!" Holden looked up at me. His eyes were wild, filled with a panic that wasn't for me. "We have to stop," he shouted. "Holden, it's just a rehearsal," I said, stepping off the dais. "We can call the healers—" "No!" He cut me off. "She needs me. My wolf... my wolf is calling to her. It says she needs protection." The crowd gasped. In our world, the Alpha is the protector. But for an Alpha to claim his wolf chose another woman over his intended mate during a ceremony? That was blasphemy. "Holden," I said, my voice turning hard. "If you leave this altar now, you humiliate me. You humiliate my family." He looked at the woman in his arms. Jaidyn’s eyelids fluttered. She looked at me, and for a split second, I saw a smirk curl her pale lips before she let her head loll back against his chest. "I don't care about your pride, Eloise!" Holden roared. "I care about her life! I’m sorry." He didn't look sorry. He looked relieved. He turned his back on me. He carried her away, the crowd parting for him like the Red Sea, leaving me standing alone under the moonlight. The silence that followed was heavy. It was the sound of three hundred people pitying me. I felt a sharp pain in my chest, the snapping of the tentative bond we had started to form. It wasn't a true Mate Bond, thank the Goddess, but the rejection still stung like a physical slap. My father stepped forward, his face red with fury, but I held up a hand. "Don't," I whispered. I walked down the steps of the altar. I didn't run. I didn't cry. The Bowers bloodline might be dormant in me, but it was proud. I reached the privacy of the pack house and went straight to my room. My phone buzzed. It was a Mind-Link notification, translated into text for convenience. Holden: Eloise, don't be dramatic. Jaidyn is critical. We need to postpone the wedding indefinitely. My wolf tells me I need to be her anchor. You understand, right? You’ve always been the strong one. Make room for her in the inner circle. I stared at the screen. He wasn't asking. He was commanding. He thought because I was a "weak" latent wolf, I would just roll over and accept a mistress in my marriage. My inner wolf let out a sound I had never heard before. It wasn't a whimper. It was a low, dangerous growl. He is unworthy, she whispered in the back of my mind. I typed a reply, my fingers steady. I understand perfectly. Then I blocked him. I scrolled through my contacts. Past my father. Past my friends. Down to a number I had saved years ago, a number everyone said was a death wish to dial. Alphons Woodward. The Lycan King. The ruler of all packs. And Holden’s estranged, terrifying older half-brother. Rumor had it he was a monster. A cold-blooded killer who crushed skulls with his bare hands. He was looking for a Luna, but no she-wolf had ever survived his intensity. I pressed the call button. One ring. Two rings. "Speak," a voice answered. It was deep. Baritone. It vibrated through the speaker and seemed to caress my skin, sending a jolt of electricity down my spine. My breath hitched. "King Alphons," I said, surprising myself with the steadiness of my voice. "You have five seconds before I hang up," he said. He sounded bored, dangerous. "Holden Callahan is a fool," I said. "He just abandoned me at the altar for a woman who smells like rotting flowers. He is weak, and he is unworthy of the Woodward blood." Silence on the other end. Then, a low sound. Amusement? "And?" "And," I took a deep breath. "You need a Luna. I need a husband who isn't a coward. I am Eloise Bowers. I am offering you a deal." "A deal?" His voice dropped an octave, becoming a purr that made my toes curl. "You are the one he rejected?" "I am the one doing the rejecting," I corrected him. "Meet me at the Central Administration Center. Thirty minutes." "You command a King?" "I offer a King an opportunity," I said. "Don't be late." I hung up. My hands were shaking now, but not from fear. I felt alive. The fog that had clouded my instincts for years began to lift. I grabbed my coat and walked out the door. I was done being the victim.