Claimed by the Lycan Triplets

Spectacle

Chapter 7

Annalise

To my absolute horror, the rumors were true—the triplets had truly joined Thalvion a month earlier than expected. My first shock came during hunting class when Cassian strolled in as if he owned the place. The other two weren’t there, but that didn’t make his presence any less overwhelming.

I audibly gulped when I felt his eyes on me. His cruel smirk stretched across his face, radiating pure mischief as he watched me enter. And to my utter dismay, he raised a hand and waved at me.

The collective gasp that followed could have blown the classroom doors off their hinges. Whispers rippled through the room like wildfire, disbelief evident in every tone.

His Highness, Cassian, acknowledging her?

Even Lucien, who had been ignoring me ever since Willow joined the academy, glanced over at the exchange with interest. Speaking of Willow, she wasn’t here today—thankfully. She’d fallen ill and taken leave, though that hadn’t stopped her from whining incessantly about how she’d missed the Princes’ grand arrival.

Last night, she’d practically talked my ear off about their beauty, sounding almost envious that I’d encountered them before she had. The irony wasn’t lost on me. She envied my connection—or torment—with the triplets, while I envied her for catching Lucien’s attention.

As Cassian continued to smirk at me, I gritted my teeth and walked to my usual seat, determined to ignore him.

But of course, Cassian wouldn’t allow that.

To my horror, the moment I sat down, he rose from his seat at the front of the class and made his way toward me. My heart sank as he plopped down in the chair beside mine, utterly unbothered by the entire room staring at us.

No. No, no, no.

Even Lucien was watching now, his expression unreadable.

Cassian leaned back in his chair, his emerald gaze locked on me. His lips curled into what could only be described as a mocking smile, as though he found my discomfort entertaining.

“This seat is occupied,” I hissed through gritted teeth, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

He tilted his head, feigning hurt. “Are you telling me to leave, Flower?” His fake pout was so exaggerated it almost felt like a challenge.

My blood boiled. Everything was a game to him, but Thalvion wasn’t a playground for me. This place was my sanctuary, my chance to prove myself. If he kept pulling stunts like this, my reputation—built over four hard years—would be in tatters.

“Yes,” I said firmly, though my voice cracked slightly.

His smile faltered, and for a fleeting moment, I thought he might actually listen.

But then his smirk returned, sharper than ever. “Too bad. I’m sitting here, and I won’t let you leave either.”

I clenched my fists, squeezing my eyes shut as whispers erupted around us.

Why is she acting like that?

Did she really tell him to leave?

She’s so ungrateful. I’d kill for him to sit next to me.

My cheeks burned with humiliation. Cassian, meanwhile, looked utterly delighted by the chaos he’d caused.

Cassian was the picture of polished perfection, even in the Thalvion Academy uniform. While all students wore variations of the same attire—tailored jackets, pressed shirts, and dark trousers or skirts—his had a distinct royal touch. His jacket shimmered faintly under the light, embroidered with golden thread that caught the eye. The crest of the Lucarius Kingdom rested proudly on his chest, etched in fine detail, a mark of distinction that no one else had. The buttons on his jacket were shaped like small dragons, each glinting with the same regal sheen as his bearing.

As I stared at him, half in annoyance and half in resignation, I leaned forward from my seat nearby and asked the question everyone had on their minds. “Weren’t you and your brothers supposed to join after the Shifting Ceremony? At the Christmas party?”

With maddening grace, he leaned closer and took a strand of my white-streaked hair between his fingers, twirling it like he had every right to touch me. His emerald eyes bore into mine, searching, like he was trying to unravel some mystery.

I tensed instinctively. When others looked into my eyes, their reactions were varied—confusion, anger, curiosity, even awe. My unusual golden eyes weren’t like the kingdom’s typical amber hues. They always drew whispers, questions I couldn’t answer. My parents had brown eyes, both of them, leaving me an anomaly that fueled rumors and unease.

But Cassian? He never reacted. None of the triplets did. They stared like they knew something I didn’t, then quickly shifted the conversation, as if my eyes weren’t worth acknowledging.

Lucien, on the other hand, avoided them entirely, never meeting my gaze directly. I told myself he was shy. Yet, as I glanced at him now, I couldn’t help but wonder if he also believed the rumors.

Cassian’s voice cut through my thoughts like ice. “Eyes on me, Flower,” he murmured, his tone almost possessive. “I do not like it when your attention wanders while I’m here.”

I forced a smile, fake and sharp. “Get used to it,” I replied coolly. “There are plenty of others eager for your attention. Why not focus on them? They’re actually interested.”

His smirk deepened, “You didn’t answer my question,” I said, my tone pressing.

Cassian sighed, as though remembering something unpleasant. “Our grandfather sent us early,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “He thought it was time we experienced ‘normal’ training before the competition.” He rolled his eyes, a fleeting moment of unguarded irritation. “He kept us locked away as kids, so now he wants us to ‘explore.’” His lips curved into a faint smile. “Not that I’m complaining.”

I pressed on. “Where are the other two?”

Cassian scooted closer to me, his voice dropping. “Do you really think we could stand each other’s company for too long? We all have our… unique gifts, Flower.”

One of them was hard enough to deal with. Three would be impossible.

“I love your voice, Flower,” Cassian said, his smooth, velvety tone dripping with something darker, something that made my skin crawl. His expression was sadistic, his emerald eyes locking onto mine as though he were savoring the moment. “Why didn’t I hear it before? So often?”

I didn’t flinch. Not this time. Instead, I rolled my eyes, determined to keep my composure even as my stomach churned. “Because you’re too obsessed with catching me,” I said flatly.

He leaned in, close enough that I could feel his breath—hot, minty, and entirely too intimate. My instincts screamed at me to retreat, so I shifted back in my seat, putting what little space I could between us. But it wasn’t enough. Not with the entire class staring, their gazes heavy with curiosity, jealousy, and disbelief.

Every eye was on us. Even Lucien couldn’t look away.

My jaw clenched as I forced myself to meet Cassian’s gaze. “You’ve got what you wanted. Now leave. Don’t you have some exclusive royal class to attend? Something only His Highness can manage?” My words dripped with mockery, and for a fleeting moment, I saw his smirk falter.

Then his eyes turned fire. The playful facade was gone, replaced by a sharp, cutting cruelty. “I can and will do whatever I want, Flower,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth. “So it’s better for you to keep your little mouth shut and stay where you’re supposed to.”

The venom in his tone left no doubt about the power imbalance between us, a brutal reminder of who he was and who I wasn’t.

Before I could reply—or escalate things further—the classroom door opened, and Professor Vareth entered. His eyes lit up as they landed on Cassian, and to my disgust, he immediately bowed. “Your Highness,” he said, his voice practically trembling with reverence. “What an honor it is to have you grace our humble class today.”

Cassian nodded, the smirk returning to his lips as if he hadn’t just bared his teeth at me moments ago. The professor’s groveling was enough to make me nauseous, but I bit my tongue, unwilling to draw more attention.

The lesson began, focusing on the art of hunting prey. Professor Vareth explained the techniques wolves used in human form, emphasizing stealth, precision, and strategy. “The key,” he said, pacing at the front of the room, “is to think like your prey. Anticipate their moves. A wolf in human form must be patient, calculating... a true predator.”

I barely heard him, my mind spinning as Cassian sat beside me, exuding an air of smug satisfaction. He didn’t need to say anything else; he’d already gotten what he wanted—a spectacle.

When the class finally ended, I bolted.

The hallway was worse.

“Annalise!” someone called, their voice high-pitched with curiosity. “How do you know Prince Cassian?”

“Are you close to him?” another girl asked, her eyes wide with envy.

“Is he courting you?”

“Do the other princes know you too?”

Their questions came faster than I could process, each one laced with disbelief or thinly veiled jealousy. I kept my head down, refusing to stop or answer. My boots echoed against the stone floor as I hurried toward the nearest exit, desperate for fresh air.

This was exactly what Cassian wanted. The stares, the whispers, the endless speculation.

And now, thanks to him, I was the center of a storm I never asked for.