Fated To The Lycan King And His Brother

Chapter 5

Roisin

The drive to the palace was quiet—unnervingly quiet. Only the soft voice of the little girl broke the silence every now and then, asking her father a question or sharing a thought. He’d simply hum in response, barely acknowledging her. And me?

He didn’t speak to me. Didn’t even look at me.

Did he even like me? Did he want me around? If he did, he wasn’t doing a great job at showing it. But then again, he hadn’t rejected me either… which was something, I guess.

When we finally arrived, the palace loomed ahead like something out of a dream—or a nightmare. Grand didn’t even begin to cover it.

It was magnificent, massive, and intimidating. A fortress carved by time itself. The architecture was ancient yet divine, and the golden walls gleamed with intricate illustrations that told a rich, violent history—the rise of the Lycans. From primitive brutes to rulers drenched in power and glory.

“Darling, please go to your room. I’ll be there soon,” the Lycan King said softly, bending down to stroke his daughter’s hair.

She pouted. “Okay… but don’t take too long,” she warned playfully, before slipping her small hand into that of an older woman I assumed was her caretaker. They disappeared down another hallway.

“Come with me,” the King said without looking back.

I followed quietly, our footsteps echoing through the long marble halls. The silence clung to us like a second skin.

We stopped at a door and he pushed it open, stepping aside so I could walk in.

The room was stunning—immaculate and grand, easily the size of the Ripleys’ entire living room back home. Polished floors, soft lighting, ornate furnishings, and plush bedding. The very definition of luxury.

“They got this room ready just in time before your arrival,” he said casually as he stepped inside and shut the door.

I turned to him, confused. “But… I didn’t see you make any calls.”

“I didn’t need to. As the Lycan King, I can mind-link anyone I know by name and face. It’s one of my abilities,” he explained coolly, like it was common knowledge.

“Right… of course,” I mumbled. That probably explained the silence during the drive. Mind-linking required full concentration—or so I assumed.

He cleared his throat, his voice commanding my attention. “My name is Visaris Rael Rhysand. I’m the Lycan King. And most recently…your mate.”

My heart gave a startled jolt.

“Should I… bow? Call you ‘Your Majesty’?” I asked awkwardly.

“No, that won’t be necessary. Visaris is fine,” he said, waving it off. “And you are?”

“I’m Roisin. Roisin Sinclair. I’m a werewolf… eighteen years old. That’s… pretty much everything.”

I offered a nervous chuckle, already anticipating the direction this conversation was headed. Please don’t ask where I’m from. Please don’t ask—

“You haven’t said which Pack you’re from,” he pressed, voice cool but firm. “And I’d also like to know what compelled you to enter the Lycan Kingdom, knowing full well that doing so is punishable by death. You’re lucky I found you first… or else—” He left the sentence hanging, heavy with unsaid threats.

My heart leapt to my throat.

This was bad. Really bad. I couldn’t tell him the truth.

“Then make something up, anything,” Jaeni hissed in my mind. “He’s watching you. Don’t stall too long.”

I bit my lip, scrambling to think of something even remotely believable.

“I… It’s kind of a long story,” I began shakily. “I came looking for someone. My… cousin. She left for the Lycan Kingdom about two weeks ago, and I haven’t heard from her since. So I… I came to find her.”

The lie was terrible. Half-baked and flimsy. I practically cringed as it left my mouth. Lying had never been my strength.

Visaris narrowed his eyes at me, silent and unreadable.

He doesn’t believe me.

The silence dragged for a few excruciating seconds—then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

“I’m glad you didn’t run into any trouble.”

I blinked. What? Did he just… let it go?

He knew I was lying. That was obvious. But… he didn’t push it. He didn’t seem to care enough to press further.

Typical of someone who feared nothing.

“That aside… how did you find Meilani?”

I blinked again. “Who?”

He smirked at my confusion, and something fluttered stupidly in my chest.

“My daughter. Her name is Meilani. Though most just call her Meimei.”

I nodded, then recounted how I found and rescued her. He listened, silent and focused.

When I finished, he nodded solemnly. “Thank you for saving her. You have my deepest gratitude.”

I hesitated. “Will she… be alright? I mean, she’s so young. Being kidn*pped must’ve been terrifying.”

“She’ll recover. I’ll make sure of it,” he said, but there was pain in his voice. “Unfortunately, it’s not the first time. My daughter is… special. Gifted. And that attracts unwanted attention. No matter how many guards or caretakers I hire, they always fall short. I try to be there, but… ruling a kingdom doesn’t allow much freedom.”

His eyes darkened with regret. “It breaks me that she has to grow up with so much fear.”

A deep ache spread through my chest. He sounded sincere. And broken.

“What about her mother?” I asked gently. “Surely she isn’t as busy as you—”

His expression shifted instantly. His jaw tightened. Anger, pain, and something darker swept through his eyes.

“She’s dead.”

His voice was low. Haunted.

“My mate—Meimei’s mother—Azmariah, died a year ago. A tragic incident. But… do you know what I find strange?”

He stepped closer. My heart skipped a beat.

He leaned in, close—too close. His breath brushed across my face, and I felt heat bloom in my cheeks.

“You smell exactly like her,” he whispered. “Azmariah. My wife.”

I froze.

“And… you resemble her. It’s uncanny. Even Meimei… she’s never taken to anyone like she has to you.”

His hand brushed my cheek, feather-light, and his eyes smoldered with something I didn’t dare name.

“If I closed my eyes right now… you could be her.”

My breath hitched. My skin tingled where he touched me. My heart thundered in my chest like a war drum.

“W–What?”

That was all I could manage, utterly disoriented.

He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead, he stepped back and cleared his throat.

“I believe that’s why Meimei called you ‘mummy.’ You look too much like her to tell the difference.”

I stared at him, trying to make sense of anything anymore.

“Y-Yes… that makes sense,” I said, voice faint. “It explains why she reacted the way she did. I’m sorry for your loss… it must’ve been devastating for both you and Meimei.”

“There’s no need to apologize. You hold no blame for my misfortunes. I’m just grateful she’s found someone who can guide her. I hope you don’t mind if she clings to you.”

“No, not at all. I’d be honored to help in any way I can.”

I meant it. And I was stunned by how kind he’d been. I’d heard horror stories about the Lycan King—cruel, cold, merciless. Yet he was nothing like that.

Maybe this was the one thing that had gone right in my life.

Then his voice dropped again.

“What do you want?”

I blinked. “Huh?”

“It’s been established that we’re mates. Do you want to keep the bond? Or would you rather I reject you?”

My throat tightened. The question was blunt—but fair. Still, it hit harder than I expected.

Could I endure another rejection?

Besides, I needed him. His protection. His influence. Without him, I’d be on the run, branded a criminal. No sanctuary. No future.

But keeping the bond meant something else entirely. It meant becoming Luna of the Lycans.

Could I survive that?

“Do you want me as your mate?” I asked, turning the question back on him.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “It’s not about want. You’re a werewolf. I’m a Lycan. There’s centuries of hatred between our kinds. There’s… a lot to consider.”

Then he paused. His voice softened.

“But Meimei likes you. That alone matters more than anything. Her happiness is my only priority. And… you’re easy on the eyes.”

His gaze swept over me slowly. Intentionally.

“So yes. I’ll keep you as my mate.”

I shivered beneath his stare. “Then… I’ll stay. I want this too.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

His voice regained its authoritative edge.

“You’ll remain here, in this room. If you need anything, inform the maids. Tomorrow, I will introduce you to my council as my mate and future Queen.”

Queen.

The word rang in my ears like a thunderclap.

“There will be backlash,” he continued. “Some won’t take kindly to you being a werewolf. But I will deal with it. Just make yourself presentable. Be on your best behavior.”

I nodded quickly. “Understood.”

It felt less like a request and more like a royal decree. But I was already in too deep to back out now.

I wanted to ask more—what would this mean for us? What kind of man was he, beneath the crown?

But I held my tongue. Now wasn’t the time.

Visaris hesitated in the doorway, as if about to say something else. But then he left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

As soon as he was gone, I sagged.

His presence was overwhelming. Every breath he took dominated the room. The fact that he was my mate still hadn’t fully registered.

I walked to the bed and sat down. The mattress dipped beneath me, soft and cloud-like. My aching joints finally sighed in relief.

But then… a thought struck me. Hard.

I bolted upright.

“Jaeni,” I called, summoning the spirit of my wolf.

“We need to talk. Explain everything that's happened in the last seventy-two hours. How can I shift into my younger self? What is a binding vow? And what does it have to do with us?”