The Lycan King’s Secret Baby by Didi Adeyemi

1

Freya

The ceremony has already kicked off in full swing. Guests loiter the garden outside the pack house, mingling with one another, relishing in the safe return of their Alpha.

It’s been almost three months since he left for war. Three months without Alpha Noxian on pack grounds.And a party has been thrown in light of his reappearance.

It’s not a strange sight to see wolves so overjoyed by the presence of their leader. His safe return meant two things; the war was won, and now the pack members are safe.

So we drink, and we dance, and we laugh with each other. We celebrate.

Despite the fact that I arrived at the pack house with my father, his wife and her children, I’m all alone now. Lingering by the double doors leading to the back entrance, I watch everyone’s interactions.

I’m not one to socialize often, sit around and try to make light conversation. Hell, I’m not the type to even show up to these things. But Dad had insisted, he said I never spent enough time around family.

He’s not entirely wrong.

I spent as much time as I could around him, and to me, he was the only family I had left ever since mom died.

But he got remarried.

And I’ll never accept them, or the way they treat me. Like I’m not better than an animal, or scum at the bottom of their shoes. And for some reason completely unknown to me, Dad has never noticed what goes on in that house whenever he’s not there.

They try to be welcoming to me, sickly sweet even whenever he’s in our midst, but the second the curtains are drawn, it’s a whole other world of torture.

And I simply can’t bear to spend anymore time around them than absolutely necessary.

I let out a long breath, pulling my sweater tighter around my self to block out the evening cold.

The moon hangs over us like a watchful parent, bathing the evening in a beautiful glow. Suddenly, I feel like having a drink.

I turn away from the crowd, heading in to the kitchen to serve myself a cup. There are just as many people lingering in the hallways around the general pack house. But the music isn’t as loud in here. The deeper I walk into the house, the more the throng of people thin out, till I’m standing by myself in the kitchen.

I pour myself a drink, taking a sip. Instantly, my muscles loosen up. Nothing like a little liquid courage to get me through an otherwise uncomfortable environment. I walk around the house, gingerly taking in the sparse decor, the paintings and ornaments dispersed all around the house.

I’m looking at a particularly large piece of art on the wall, my head tilted back in awe, when a prickly feeling seers through the back of my n*ck.

I drop my head down, darting my eyes back and forth to take in my surroundings. I’m alone, but it feels like I’m being watched.

And then a scent, so exquisite, reaches my nose.

It’s so flattering I wish I could take a bite of it. I inhale lungfuls, closing my eyes and trying to locate the source.

It seems to be coming from a far away direction, somewhere not close in my vicinity. I wonder then, how the smell could be so potent.

I’m like a lost puppy, letting my nose lead as I tunnel through the house, eagerly searching for the source.

It’s crazy, my b*dy’s current reaction. The closer I get, the more unnerved I feel. My brain feels slightly foggy, like there’s been a haze cast over my head. And a languid heat settles into my b*dy like lead. My breasts feels heavy, my mouth waters as the space between myself and whatever it is withers away.

Before I know it, I’m standing at another exit. The door is slightly ajar, like it’s just been walked through. My hand wraps around the knob without hesitation and I step outside.

It hits me like a slap across my face. I can’t pinpoint what the smell is, all I know is, its utterly delicious, and I can’t get enough.

I’m afraid to believe it, but…

My eyes trail over the grass, to the lone figure standing off to the side, a hand buried deep in the pocket of his black dress pants.

Alpha Noxian.

He stands like a patient king, the wind lapping around his statue, carrying his scent directly to me.

Mate.

Mate.

I shake my head once, swallowing the lump forming in my throat.

Alpha Noxian?

How?

His head jerks sharply in my direction. I stifle a shriek. He regards me, cold brown eyes trailing over my form from the top of my head to the tips of my shoes.

A slight sneer curls the fullness of his mouth.

And his frown only makes me pay more attention to the rest of him. He’s dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, not a single scratch or scar marring his perfect frame in form of a telltale sign that he’d just come back from war.

Long black hair is pulled back from his face, bundled at the nape of his n*ck in a sleek bun. His dark brows are furrowed, his expression hostile, almost angry even.

“And who might you be?” And his voice is deep. Oh, so deep and rich, I want to loose myself in it.

“I’m…” I hesitate.

What do I say? What do I tell him?

“Mute?” He steps toward me, curious. His nostrils flare, his eyes widening a fraction.

He can feel it too. The mate bond. A certain confidence surges within me, hiking my chin an inch higher.

“I followed the smell.” I say, “We’re mat-”

He throws his head back in wild laughter. His back bowing as he howls at something he finds so unnaturally hilarious.

I look around, confused.

He rights himself after a moment, staring at me with mirth shining in his irises. He wipes a stray tear at the corner of his eyes. “Again.” He says, “Say that again.”

“Say what?” My shoulders sink, suddenly, I feel I’m the butt of his private joke.

“The utter nonsense that just flew out of your mouth!” His humor is completely wiped away, replaced by harsh, unforgiving lines. He pins me with a hard stare, “ I dare you to say it again.”

He looks at me with a heavy type of disdain. And I’m floored, because we’ve only just met, because we’re mates. But he doesn’t seem to care, he doesn’t seem to realize or even acknowledge it.

“What are you-”

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” the familiar voice feels like pinpricks against my sk*n. I grit my teeth as my step-sister, Violet, approaches. I turn to face her, but fall short when she bypasses me completely, walking into the arm of Alpha Noxian.

My heart stutters at a wild rhythm.

She places a hand on his chest, turning to face me with a bitter stare.

“What’s this trash doing here?”

My gaze cuts to Noxian beside her. His expression is detached, uncaring as he speaks, “What they do best, making a mess.”

I shake my head at him, “It’s not something you can deny! We’re mat-”

“Speak one more word and I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your life.” His eyes are cold, “It can never happen. It will never happen. Go live your pipe dreams elsewhere.”

“What do you mean by that?” My head spins, there’s no way he can’t feel what I feel, there’s no way he can just ignore what’s pulsing between us.

A crowd starts to gather around us, the commotion dragging their attention away from the celebrations. I swallow hard, my eyes darting between the throng of people.

Noxian rests a hand on Violet’s hip, and I hate the way it creates something hollow within me. “Let me make it clear for you then,” His gaze is unmoving from mine, he speaks without the slightest incline in his tone, “I reject you. You are not my mate, and you never will be.”

His words cut through me like jagged steel, pulling such a visceral pain from within me that makes me sway on my feet. The loitering guests thicken, and soon, almost everyone at the party becomes witness to the spectacle that I’ve become. I shrink into myself, resenting all their curious and sympathetic gazes.

A menacing smile spreads through Violet’s face. She juts her bottom lip, pouting with exaggerated pity.

I shake my head, a tear slipping down my ch*ek. I don’t know what hurts more, watching him turn me away so blatantly, without even giving me a chance, or watching him with her.

“Go away, sister,” Violet mocks, turning to face Noxian, “You’re far from wanted here.” And then she reaches up on her heeled shoes, sealing their mouths together.

My mouth trembles with the effort of holding back a sob. I turn on my heel and bolt back inside the house before I can witness any more of it.