The Lycan Prince Ended His Betrothal for Me Novel Cover

The Lycan Prince Ended His Betrothal for Me

9.1 / 10.0
In the werewolf romance novel The Lycan Prince Ended His Betrothal for Me, a betrayed heroine wakes from a wolfsbane poisoning to change her fate. Seeking survival and power in this fantasy novel, she must navigate the court of Logan Bennett after his cold abandonment.
The Lycan Prince Ended His Betrothal for Me Summary
In a world of shifting power and ancient bloodlines, a Lycan prince makes a choice that sends shockwaves through his kingdom. Bound by duty to an arranged betrothal, he defies tradition and high-ranking expectations to choose a different path. His decision to sever ties with his intended bride for another woman ignites a storm of political tension and romantic passion. Now, they must navigate the dangerous fallout of an abandoned royal pact.
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The Lycan Prince Ended His Betrothal for Me Chapter 1

I gasped, my lungs pulling in the sharp, pine-scented air. My hands slammed onto the wooden edge of a banquet table, my fingers digging into the white linen. I blinked against the sudden, blinding glare of the bonfire.

Wait. A second ago, I was dying.

My mind violently pulled me back to the dark. The damp stone of the Silvercrest cellar pressing into my back. The metallic, bitter taste of wolfsbane on my tongue. The agonizing stillness of my poisoned blood. And above all, the cold, disgusted look in Lycan Prince Logan Bennett's eyes as he turned his back on my broken body and walked away.

But now... music thumped in my ears. Wolves laughed and danced under the string lights. A low, powerful growl rumbled in my chest. I froze. My inner wolf. She wasn't starved. She wasn't silenced. She was awake, whole, and burning with a fierce, wild life I hadn't felt in years.

I pressed a trembling hand to my chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of my heart. I was back. I was reborn on the exact night of the Silvercrest Come of Age Ceremony. The night my nightmare truly began.

Across the roaring fire, I spotted her. Keyla. My adopted sister wore a stunning, backless crimson gown. She held a champagne flute, laughing brightly as she soaked up the pack's admiration. She looked like a queen already. She was waiting for the grand announcement. Uncle Arthur had brokered a political alliance with the Blackveil Lycan Court. Tonight, the Lycan Prince was supposed to announce their betrothal.

I watched her smile, and the ghost of her cruel laughter echoed in my ears, bouncing off the cellar walls. My pulse didn't race with panic. It slowed. A thick, heavy ice settled in my veins. I didn't want to run anymore. I wanted to burn them all to the ground.

Then, the scent hit me.

Dark cedar and smoke. It was intoxicating, heavy, and unmistakable. It bypassed my human senses and sank straight into my wolf's bones.

I turned my head. Logan Bennett stood at the edge of the banquet hall with his Beta, Finn. Logan's Lycan aura was so dense and commanding that the wolves standing near him instinctively ducked their heads, baring their necks in submission. He was magnificent. Tall, broad-shouldered, radiating absolute power.

But he wasn't looking at Keyla. He was staring right at me.

His jaw was clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek. His stillness was terrifying—the predatory freeze of a wolf about to strike. In my past life, I had been terrified of that stare. I had hidden from the overwhelming pull of our mate bond because I was weak and broken.

Not this time. This time, I wouldn't hide. I would use it. I would use him.

I pushed away from the table and walked into the crowd. I moved with slow, deliberate steps, charting a path that brought me dangerously close to the Lycan Prince. As I brushed past him, I let my bare arm slide against his side.

A violent jolt of electricity sparked between our skin.

A low, ragged sound tore from his throat. I paused and glanced up through my lashes. Silver flashed wildly in his dark irises, completely consuming his pupils. His control was snapping. I held his burning gaze for exactly three seconds. Then, I turned away and slipped down a dark, quiet corridor, leaving my scent trailing behind me like a lit match.

I stepped into a dimly lit study off the main hall and left the door cracked. I didn't have to wait long.

Ten seconds later, the heavy oak door clicked shut. The lock engaged with a sharp snap.

Logan stood in the shadows. The sheer force of the mate bond flooded the small room, thickening the air until I could barely breathe. My wolf clawed frantically at my ribs, howling to submit to him. I forced her down into the dark.

"Elena," he rasped. His voice was a deep, rough rumble that vibrated against my skin.

"Your Highness," I said quietly. I kept my voice soft, letting a perfectly measured tremor of vulnerability slip through. Just enough to reel him in.

He crossed the room in two long strides, stopping inches from me. The heat radiating from his massive body was overwhelming. His hands hovered over my arms, trembling slightly as if he was afraid to touch me. "You smell like... goddess, your scent."

"I know," I whispered. I tilted my head back, exposing the long column of my neck. "I know what I am to you. I've always known."

His chest heaved. He leaned in, his nose hovering just above my collarbone. "Then why are you hiding in the dark?"

"Because in ten minutes, you are going to walk out there and announce your betrothal to my sister," I said softly. I looked up into his stormy eyes. "I wanted to know what you intend to do about this."

A feral, possessive growl ripped from his chest. He slammed his hands against the wall on either side of my head, caging me in completely. "Nothing is happening tonight," he breathed, his face dropping into the crook of my neck. He inhaled deeply, shuddering against me. "Only you. Just you."

His lips grazed my jaw. Raw, electric heat shot through my veins. My wolf screamed at me to surrender, to let his teeth pierce my skin and claim me forever. The physical craving was sheer agony. It took every ounce of my willpower to keep my mind completely cold.

I let him taste my skin. I let him feel my racing pulse. I tangled my fingers in his thick, dark hair, pulling him closer for one breathless, scorching second. I made him feel like he had me.

Then, just as his teeth grazed the unmarked skin of my neck, I pushed hard against his chest.

Logan stumbled back. His eyes were blown wide, completely silver and wild. He looked shattered. Starving. Addicted.

"Go back to your party, Prince Logan," I whispered, smoothing down the front of my dress. "Before they come looking for you."

I slipped past his frozen form and opened the door, leaving him drowning in the dark.

I returned to the main hall and picked up a glass of ice water. A moment later, the study door opened.

Logan stepped out, and the change in him was shocking. His usual cold, untouchable composure was completely fractured. His tie was loosened. His eyes were dark and feral, his Lycan wolf thrashing violently just beneath his skin.

Finn stepped into his path immediately. The Beta frowned, speaking quickly in a low voice, clearly demanding to know what had happened. Logan didn't answer him. He didn't even look at him.

Logan looked over Finn's shoulder. His gaze locked onto me across the crowded room with an intensity that made my breath hitch. It was pure, unhinged obsession.

A few feet away, Keyla noticed. She followed the line of the Lycan Prince's desperate stare right to me. The triumphant, glowing smile slid off her face. The champagne flute in her hand trembled so hard the liquid spilled over the rim.

The music played on. The bonfire burned high into the night. But the grand betrothal announcement never came.

I took a slow sip of my water and smiled.

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The Lycan Prince Ended His Betrothal for Me of Contents

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