MY UNWANTED LYCAN MATE.

FIRST MEETING.

"In her smile, I see something more beautiful than the stars."

A Lycan werewolf romance.

King Miller is the Lycan king who despises the werewolf race and wants nothing to do with them. He is a man-whore who sleeps with anything under the skit. He rules his kingdom with strict rules. He is well known all over the others’ pack for his enormity, and violent acts towards anyone who steps on his territory without his permission. He loathes the human race the most because his birth mother was one.

***

Mia;

She’s the alpha werewolf. Her brother is the king of the werewolves, and she was in love with his brother, Beta, Kelly. She meets her mate, who transpires to be the Lycan king, who wants nothing to do with her and thinks it’s best if he rips her throat.

"King Miller-Jones, King of the Cold Blood Pack, I, Mia Divas, renounce you as my mate and monarch."

"I, King Miller-Jones, spurn your rejection." he roar.

 *Preliminary*

"Mate! Mate! Mate, I sat up when I heard my wolf chant in my head. "What?" I snarled at my happy howling wolf, "Mate! He is here. She keeps pestering me.

"No, I don’t need a mate, and I don’t need to be restrained or timid in front of anyone." And besides, I am in love with my brother’s beta, Kelly. All I have to do is tell him how I felt about him, and I won’t have an unsuitable mate! "No, I want my mate! She growls. 

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Time halted. My lungs had stopped inhaling and exhaling. 

Everything has stopped existing. I could not feel or sense anything else apart from this gorgeous man standing in front of me. Not beautiful, that would be too feminine. He was the embodiment of virility. His messy silver hair fell over his forehead. He was taller than any man I had ever met. He had a built-in muscular body, which was driving my wolf insane and crazy. He is defined as being perfect; he’s strong, powerful, and glamorous. Mate, mate! Mate. My wolf wailed. Those ocean blue eyes were glued on me, and I was abruptly wet down below. His perfect lips kept calling out for a kiss. 

I blurted out, "Fuck." I had to relinquish run, I don’t need a mate.

My claws dig in the wet soil as I force myself to run, run as fast as my claws could take me, I am feeling exhausted, physically and mentally, but my sole priority is to flee and run, to flee as far as possible. I know my wolf is giving up due to weakness and lack of breath, but still, I am running. Eventually, my wolf gives up, and I collapse in the woods, wet tears spilling out of my eyes just by thinking about how my life will change if my mate catches me.

*Monarch Miller-Jones* 

I was wandering through the few trees in the town, and then I smelled the most intoxicating and appealing scent I have ever smelled. I had no inscription of the smell, it was so astonishing that it made me drool. 

My lycan was howling desperately inside my head, dancing and shrieking happily.

Then I heard my lycan say a word, one word I loathed the most.

"MATE"

Oh shit, I met my mate. And she’s a little weak wolf. I hated the idea of having a mate, a she-wolf who would diminish me, a mate who would share my throne with me. Having and acknowledging a mate means I won’t be able to keep my whore harem any longer. I don’t need a woman I will be emotionally attached to. I have my contentment with my whores, since they will do anything to satisfy my lust and desire. 

I was the strongest monarch. Accepting and claiming the weak she-wolf as my mate would be a disastrous thing to do. It would put a tint on my prestige. I do need a weak she-wolf, and I will never accept her. She must die.

******

Lycanthropy comes from the species of werewolf. They can not shift into wolves because they are more in tune with their human side. Lycans are half-werewolf and half-human. They can grow teeth, claws, have excellent eyesight, and heal as werewolves do. They do not shift into wolves.