The Secret Heirs of the Lycan King (by Misha K) novel Chapter 4

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**When Midnight Winds Carry Secrets Toward Worlds Yet Unknown**
**Chapter 4**

Scott

For countless centuries, the Lycans had held dominion over the werewolf lineage. They were more than mere beasts; they were the epitome of strength, speed, and near-immortality—born to rule. Yet, as the relentless march of time unfolded, it had not shown mercy. Wars ravaged our ranks, plagues swept through our communities, and treachery seeped into our very bones, reducing our numbers to a mere whisper of what they once were. Now, I stood alone, the last of my kind, the final Lycan king among the werewolves. At just 28 years of age, I bore the heavy burden of my lineage upon my shoulders.

In a desperate bid for survival, we had infiltrated human cities, learning to navigate their world, to masquerade as one of them. We donned their attire, mimicked their customs, and concealed our true natures. To the unsuspecting humans, I was simply Scott Moore, a young billionaire who commanded a vast empire, including the renowned Phoenix Malls and a myriad of other ventures. But if they were to uncover our hidden identities, it would spell doom for our entire race.

Every year, as the seasons changed, the Lycans would enter a frenzied state, driven by primal instincts to mate. And now, that time had arrived for me. The urge to entwine with every she-wolf or human I encountered surged within me, but I fought against the tide of my desires. I had resorted to potent medication, a desperate measure to quell the raging lust that threatened to consume me.

The Elders, with their unyielding expectations, never hesitated to remind me of my responsibilities, especially during this tumultuous period. They insisted it was time for me to take a mate and produce heirs. Each day, they reiterated the importance of my bloodline, warning that without me, the werewolves would face extinction. I was the linchpin of their existence. They yearned for the continuation of the Lycan lineage, but they failed to grasp the peril involved. Being a Lycan was a different beast altogether compared to being a regular werewolf. My power was more intense, more burdensome. The thought of a female she-wolf carrying my pup filled me with dread; the risks of her survival during birth were far too great.

Yet, the Elders pressed on. “There are countless willing she-wolves,” they proclaimed. “They would lay down their lives for you.” They labeled it sacrifice; I deemed it insanity. I refused to take a life merely to fulfill their demands. Again and again, I turned them down. I would not bring forth an heir if it meant endangering someone’s life.

This very discussion had resurfaced during our early morning meeting today. I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustration bubbling within me as I listened to their incessant pleas. All I wanted was to escape the confines of the meeting room. When it finally concluded, I bolted out, seeking solace in the cool embrace of the water. A swim would help me release pent-up energy and soothe the simmering anger and lust that coursed through me. I had a crucial meeting with human shareholders looming ahead.

Thirty minutes later, I arrived at that meeting, my Beta, Troy, at my side. As he laid out a new strategy concerning dividends to the shareholders, I sat at the head of the table, feigning interest. Suddenly, an intoxicating scent enveloped me—sweet and warm, reminiscent of chocolate and cinnamon. The aroma was so potent it sent a jolt through my senses. My Lycan stirred with an urgency I had never experienced before. How could something as simple as a cake smell so utterly divine? My throat went dry, and my heart raced. The urge to indulge in this fragrant delight was overwhelming.

I struggled to maintain my composure, but with each passing second, the craving intensified. My hands clenched the edge of the table, frustration mounting. What in the world was happening to me? The scent tugged at me like an invisible leash.

In a sudden burst of impulsiveness, I pushed my chair back and stood up abruptly. Without uttering a single word, I exited the meeting, leaving Troy scrambling to follow. “Scott, what’s going on?” he called after me, surprise etched on every shareholder’s face as I hurried away.

I remained silent as I strode through the corridors of Phoenix Mall, the mouthwatering scent guiding me like a beacon. My Lycan was fully awakened now, and I felt like a predator on the hunt—yet my prey was a chocolate and cinnamon cake? I loved dark chocolate, but this was different. My reaction was inexplicable.

The scent led me to a quaint café, where the aroma was even more pronounced. I swung open the door and approached the counter, my eyes scanning the array of cakes that had captivated my senses. The girl behind the counter blushed, flustered by my presence. It was a typical response from humans when they encountered me. I continued to survey the pastries when a soft sniffle caught my attention.

My gaze snapped to a nearby table, where a human girl sat by the window. Her head hung low, her small shoulders trembling as silent tears streamed down her face. My heart ached at the sight. She was crying quietly, her hand repeatedly brushing against her cheeks to wipe away the evidence of her sorrow. Before I could process my thoughts, my feet moved of their own accord, drawn toward her, the enticing scent wrapping around me like a warm embrace.

My Lycan growled a single word that sent shivers down my spine: MATE. The primal urge surged within me, a tempest of desire and need. ‘Mark her. Claim her. Rut her.’

I froze, my heart pounding violently in my chest. How could this be? She was human. It defied everything I believed. The Moon Goddess wouldn’t bind me to a mere human. Yet, deep down, every fiber of my being screamed that it was true. She was mine. Mine to claim, and the longing I felt for her was maddening. She would never survive carrying my pups, but in that moment, it felt irrelevant.

I was entranced by her beauty, so captivating that I momentarily forgot to breathe. She appeared delicate, fragile, with disheveled blond hair framing her innocent face. Her emerald green eyes sparkled even through her tears, and I felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch her, to feel the softness of her curves beneath her pink dress.