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The Lycan's Forsaken Mate

🇳🇬Wilder_pen
14
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 14 chs / week.
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Synopsis
Betrayed by her fated mate and branded an outcast, Arya’s life has been nothing but pain—until she’s saved by Asher, the powerful Lycan king who becomes her second chance at love and freedom. But her past refuses to stay buried. Levi, the mate who rejected her, returns with a dangerous vendetta, while her presumed-dead twin, Celeste, reemerges with a deadly mission of her own. Caught between a king’s unwavering protection and a storm of old betrayals, Arya must decide: fight for the love that could save her, or risk losing everything to the ghosts of her past.
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Chapter 1 - Mate

Arya

"Cursed twin!"

"People like her should have a rope tied around their necks and thrown into the river!"

"What a waste of space!"

I shut my eyes tight, my mind reeling from all the insults, curses, and disdainful looks. It wasn't hard to work around here without getting noticed, especially when you're somebody like Arya Davis — me.

Today was the coming of age ceremony of Levi, the crowned prince of Nightshade Pack — the same pack that had always tormented and made my life miserable.

My life here had been tumultuous — I've always been known as the daughter of traitors who were given cruel deaths and the cursed twin because my twin sister suddenly disappeared, and she was nowhere to be found. I became a slave because everyone labeled me a curse and a waste of space. I've gone through both physical, mental and emotional torture and had no choice but to endure it all.

"What are you doing standing there? Get me the wine!" one of the guests barked, her shrill voice dripping with disdain.

I bowed my head like I had always done and took a glass of wine, poured it into her glass cup and turned to leave when she grabbed my hair.

I yelped. "Hey! Let me go!" I snapped but what came afterward was a resounding slap that sent my ears ringing before I was pushed to the ground.

"You cursed bitch!" she snapped, pulling my hair.

Tears pricked the corner of my eyes as an excruciating pain shot through my system. Pain shot through my scalp as the woman yanked at my hair with a vicious grip. "You think you can talk back to your superior, cursed one?" she sneered. "You're nothing but a pathetic, worthless waste of space, just like your traitorous parents."

I winced, tears blurring my vision as I tried to pull away, but the woman's grip only tightened. "Please," I begged, my voice trembling and tears spilling down my cheeks. "I… I didn't mean to—"

"Silence, you little wretch!" she roared, her eyes flashing with rage.

My heart pounded against my chest as I cowered beneath her, my body trembling with fear and shame. I knew that as a "cursed twin" which was my nickname in this pack, I was the lowest of the low, deserving of nothing but scorn and abuse.

But even so, this treatment was more than I could bear. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to stay silent and endure her wrath, praying that someone would intervene before she did more harm. But no one came to my aid. The other guests watched with amusement, their laughter cutting through the air like knives.

Who was I kidding? What was I expecting? That they'd help me?

I could feel my pride and dignity crumbling under the weight of their mockery, but I knew that any attempt to fight back would only make things worse. So I stayed silent, my body tensed and braced for the next wave of insults and abuse.

"You're pathetic," the woman hissed, her hot breath tickling my ear. "You deserve to suffer, just like your parents."

Her words cut deep, like razor blades slicing through my soul. It hurt… so bad; so bad that all I wanted to do was scream my lungs out, question why all these had to happen to me; why I had to suffer this way. My tears fell in torrents as my scalp burned from the pull.

As if satisfied with her torment, the woman finally released my hair, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. "Don't think you can escape your fate," she spat as she turned to join the other guests. "You'll always be nothing but a cursed twin, worthless and alone."

"Just die!" another woman yelled.

My chest heaved as it became too much for me to bear. I wasted no time, scrambling to my feet and fleeing from the hall, my heart racing and tears streaming down my face. I sprinted through the hallways, desperate to escape the mocking laughter and cruel insults that seemed to follow me everywhere.

I'd rather work in the kitchen than face those vicious guests who derived joy in gloating in my misery. I stopped in front of the kitchen and wiped my face clean.

"What are you doing here, you pathetic piece of trash? Being lazy to work and attend to the guests, huh?" the head cook asked the minute she saw me, her voice dripping with malice and her expression stern. 

"No, I-"

"Shut up!" she hollered. "Pathetic, useless, cursed wench! You're a blight on this pack, and the sooner you're gone, the better."

Her words stung, like salt in an open wound.

"Get the hell out of here before I do something bad to you!"

I knew her too well — she meant every damn thing she just said. I turned and fled the kitchen, my tears falling in torrents.

As I turned a corner, my foot caught on something, sending me stumbling forward. I cried out as my knee connected with the hard, unforgiving marble floor, pain flaring through my body.

"Ow!" I yelped, wincing as I clutched at my injured knee. Blood seeped through my dress, staining the fabric a deep, angry red.

I cursed my clumsiness as I struggled to my feet and began heading for the medical section. My thoughts drifted to this stupid ceremony that caused all this in the first place. I wondered why they are holding a huge celebration for someone like Prince Levi, who was said to be a pain in the ass; he was a womanizer and wasn't someone to brag about — at least that's what I've heard some maids say. It's a miracle I have only seen him in pictures and haven't seen him in person before.

And I never want to because I hope my mate will come and take me away from here someday. I recall how Elara, my former friend, suddenly turned into a bully, mocking and taunting that I would never get to experience the happy and peaceful weddings I've always wanted, how the fairy tale endings I've wished for myself would never happen, but I have been optimistic all these years and I still am even though my life is worse than "horrible."

I shook off the thoughts and turned to go into the medical section when a sweet scent wafted past my nostrils — the scent was like a warm breeze on a summer day, carrying with it notes of freshly baked cookies, sun-drenched grass, and a hint of something wild and untamed. It wrapped around me, caressing my skin and filling my lungs with a sweet, intoxicating aroma.

I froze, unable to move as the scent overwhelmed my senses, my heart racing in my chest. It felt like I was being pulled towards something, some unseen force drawing me in.

I turned, my eyes searching for the source of the scent, and soon it fixed on a door. My legs moved on their own, my senses on high alert as I flung the door open, but what I saw was like a punch in the gut. 

"Mate!" my wolf growled as I stared at the infamous Prince Levi, driving Elara, my former best friend turned bully, to orgasm. 

And worse, he was my mate!

My breath caught in my throat.

I shook my head. This can't be happening. I turned to leave, but his cold voice stopped me in my tracks. 

"Where do you think you're going, mate?" he asked, causing bail to rise in my throat.

I clenched my fists.

"You are going nowhere. You will stand there and watch me fuck this sweet pussy."

What!