“Stay Away From Her” — The Lycan King Growled When He Saw Other Men Looking at His Omega
Part 4
Part 4
The creature did not look like a wolf.
Not completely.
It rose through the shattered courtyard as smoke, bone and shadow twisted together.
Dozens of silver eyes opened across its enormous body.
Every infected Lycan in the kingdom screamed simultaneously.
Ana felt the sound inside her head.
Tomás fell to his knees.
“What is it?”
Salas stared at the ancient inscriptions glowing beneath the castle.
“The Hollow Wolf.”
Víctor moved between Ana and the creature.
“A legend?”
“A warning.”
Centuries earlier, when the first Lycan packs formed their magical bonds, every broken oath left behind a fragment of corrupted energy.
Betrayal.
Forced mating bonds.
Pack expulsions.
Alpha domination.
Every time magic intended for connection was used for control, that corruption accumulated.
Eventually it became something alive.
The Hollow Wolf.
True Omegas once kept it dormant by balancing pack magic.
When their bloodlines were hunted, nothing remained to contain it.
Rendón had not created the plague.
He had merely found a way to exploit the creature’s influence.
Now Ana had broken that control.
And awakened the source.
The Hollow Wolf lunged.
Víctor shifted.
His enormous black-and-gold Lycan form collided with it.
The impact shook the courtyard.
Guards attacked.
Their weapons passed through shadow.
The creature struck Víctor and hurled him across the stone.
“Víctor!”
Ana ran.
Tomás grabbed her arm.
“You can’t fight it like that.”
“How?”
“It feeds on broken bonds.”
Ana understood.
You could not stab betrayal.
You could not kill centuries of cruelty with a sword.
The Hollow Wolf turned toward her.
Inside Ana’s mind came thousands of voices.
Rejected Omegas.
Banished children.
Betrayed mates.
Abandoned pack members.
Pain.
So much pain.
Ana nearly collapsed beneath it.
Then she realized the creature was not evil in the ordinary sense.
It was wounded.
A kingdom’s accumulated wound.
Víctor returned to human form beside her, bleeding.
“What do you need?”
Ana looked at him.
“Everyone.”
He understood immediately.
Víctor turned toward the gathered clan leaders.
“For centuries, the crown demanded loyalty.”
The Hollow Wolf roared.
Víctor raised his voice.
“Tonight I demand nothing.”
The clans stared.
“I release every pack from compulsory magical allegiance to House Alcázar.”
Gasps erupted.
Salas whispered, “Víctor…”
The king removed the royal ring from his hand.
“If this kingdom continues, it continues because you choose it.”
He dropped the ring onto the stone.
“Not because I own you.”
Something changed in the barrier.
One clan leader stepped forward.
Alpha Marisol of White Thorn.
“My pack chooses unity.”
Her hand struck her chest.
Silver light appeared.
Another stepped forward.
“We choose it.”
Then another.
And another.
Across the courtyard, hundreds repeated the words.
“We choose.”
The barrier began glowing.
Ana felt the Hollow Wolf recoil.
Not from strength.
From healing.
Tomás stood.
His silver eyes cleared.
He reached toward the infected Lycans gathered beyond the walls.
“You don’t belong to the plague.”
One infected warrior collapsed.
Then rose again with human eyes.
Ana walked toward the Hollow Wolf.
Víctor caught her hand.
“Don’t.”
“I know what it is.”
“Ana.”
“It isn’t attacking because it wants the throne.”
She looked into the creature’s countless eyes.
“It wants the pain to stop.”
Víctor searched her face.
Then released her.
Not because he agreed.
Because he trusted her.
Ana stepped forward.
The Hollow Wolf towered over her.
“Your pain is real,” she whispered.
The creature growled.
“You were created every time someone used a bond as a cage.”
Images flashed.
True Omegas chained inside royal chambers.
Children expelled because their wolves developed slowly.
Mates forced together for alliances.
Ana cried.
“I cannot erase what happened.”
The creature opened its jaws.
“But I can promise we stop feeding you.”
Ana cut her palm.
Víctor immediately moved.
She shook her head.
“This is my choice.”
Silver blood struck the earth.
The courtyard exploded with moonlight.
Ana saw every living pack bond across the kingdom.
Thousands of threads.
Some strong.
Some damaged.
Some nearly broken.
She did not repair them herself.
Instead, she offered everyone a choice.
Stay.
Leave.
Forgive.
Separate.
Reconnect.
No magical command.
No royal law.
Choice.
The kingdom answered.
Some bonds dissolved.
Others strengthened.
The Hollow Wolf screamed.
Its body began breaking apart.
Not dying.
Releasing.
Shadow became silver mist.
Silver mist became thousands of tiny lights.
They rose into the night.
Tomás began laughing.
“Ana.”
She turned.
The black veins were gone.
Around the courtyard, infected Lycans collapsed.
Then slowly began waking.
Healed.
The barrier flashed once.
Then stabilized.
Not around Silver Night Castle alone.
Across every territory.
Shared.
Balanced.
Alive.
Ana stumbled.
Víctor caught her.
“I have you.”
She looked up weakly.
“Still possessive.”
“Hopelessly.”
She smiled.
Then fainted.
Ana slept for two days.
When she woke, Víctor was sitting beside her.
Unshaven.
Exhausted.
Angry.
“You look terrible,” she whispered.
His head snapped up.
“You’re awake.”
“So observant.”
He wrapped his arms around her.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Víctor pulled back.
“Never do that again.”
“Save the kingdom?”
“Nearly die.”
“I didn’t nearly die.”
“You stopped breathing.”
Ana blinked.
“For how long?”
“Long enough.”
His voice broke.
She softened.
“I’m sorry.”
Víctor looked away.
Ana touched his hand.
“Come here.”
“I am here.”
“Closer.”
He leaned toward her.
She kissed him.
Slowly.
No cave.
No attack.
No contract.
No audience.
When they separated, Víctor rested his forehead against hers.
“I love you.”
Ana smiled.
“I know.”
“That is a terrible response.”
“I’ve been unconscious for two days.”
“I love you, Ana.”
This time she answered.
“I love you too.”
His eyes closed.
Relief moved through him.
Then Ana noticed a document on the bedside table.
“What is that?”
Víctor looked suddenly uncomfortable.
Ana narrowed her eyes.
“Víctor.”
“A legal document.”
“What kind?”
“The contract.”
Her old fake-mate agreement.
He handed it to her.
Across the final page, a heavy black line crossed every condition.
VOID.
Below it, Víctor had written:
Ana Flores owes the Crown nothing.
Her throat tightened.
“You did this while I was unconscious?”
“I wanted you to wake free.”
Ana looked at him.
“Free to leave?”
His jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
“You would let me?”
“No.”
She laughed.
“At least you’re honest.”
“I would argue extensively.”
“I’m sure.”
“I would probably become unbearable.”
“You already are.”
“But I would let you choose.”
That silenced her.
Ana placed the contract aside.
“I choose to stay.”
Víctor stared.
“As what?”
She smiled.
“Ask properly.”
Understanding dawned.
The Lycan King, feared across five territories, actually looked nervous.
“Ana Flores.”
“Yes?”
“Will you become my mate?”
She tilted her head.
“Real mate?”
“Yes.”
“No expiration date?”
“Never.”
“No political clauses?”
“None.”
“No telling me what to do?”
Víctor hesitated.
“Reasonable safety instructions?”
“No.”
He sighed.
“Fine.”
Ana laughed.
“Yes.”
He stared.
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
Víctor kissed her before she could repeat it.
Months later, their mating ceremony was held not inside the throne room but in the rebuilt courtyard where the Hollow Wolf had disappeared.
Tomás stood beside Ana.
Fully healed.
He had begun training as a royal healer specializing in Feral recovery.
Salas attended.
So did representatives from every pack.
Governor Rendón attended only in one sense.
His trial verdict was announced that morning.
Treason.
Illegal experimentation.
Forced magical domination.
Lifetime imprisonment beneath neutral council authority.
Víctor deliberately refused execution.
“Death would make him a warning,” Ana said.
“And prison?”
“A witness.”
More important changes followed.
The royal system itself was rewritten.
Pack leaders gained representation.
Forced mating contracts were outlawed.
No Omega could be legally traded, claimed or medically examined without consent.
True Omega blood could no longer be classified as a royal resource.
Ana insisted on that wording.
“People are not resources.”
Víctor signed immediately.
Years later, historians would call the reforms the Silver Night Restoration.
Ana hated the name.
“It sounds dramatic.”
“You healed an ancient shadow monster beneath a castle,” Víctor reminded her.
“It was emotionally complicated.”
“It had several hundred eyes.”
“You’re missing the point.”
Tomás called the period Ana’s Great Argument With Everyone.
That name she liked.
Ana eventually established a healing academy beside Silver Night Castle.
Its first rule was carved above the entrance.
Healing without freedom is another form of harm.
Former plague victims became healers.
Omegas studied alongside Alphas.
Tomás became one of the academy’s youngest instructors.
And Ana?
Ana never stopped mixing herbs herself.
Even after becoming Queen.
One winter evening, years after the Solstice Ball, she stood in the same ballroom.
Víctor was speaking to diplomats.
Ana wore dark blue again.
Her natural scent filled the room.
She no longer hid it.
A visiting Alpha approached.
“Your Majesty.”
Ana smiled politely.
“Lord Serrano.”
“I wondered if you might honor me with a dance.”
Across the room, Víctor’s head turned immediately.
Ana saw it.
Golden eyes.
Tight jaw.
She nearly laughed.
Serrano noticed too.
“Is the king always like that?”
“Worse.”
Víctor approached.
Serrano wisely stepped backward.
Ana folded her arms.
“Don’t.”
Víctor looked innocent.
“I haven’t said anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was going to welcome Lord Serrano.”
“Were you?”
“Warmly.”
Serrano decided diplomacy could wait.
He disappeared.
Ana laughed.
Víctor wrapped an arm around her waist.
“You enjoyed that.”
“A little.”
His voice lowered.
“He was looking at you.”
“People are allowed to look at me.”
“I know.”
“Progress.”
“I didn’t threaten him.”
“You thought about it.”
“Thoughts are private.”
Ana rested her head against his chest.
“Do you remember our first contract?”
“Unfortunately.”
“You said I would never fall in love with you.”
Víctor grimaced.
“I have made military decisions less embarrassing than that sentence.”
“You were very confident.”
“I was an idiot.”
“Also true.”
He kissed her hair.
Around them, music continued.
The kingdom was not perfect.
There were arguments.
Political crises.
Old prejudices that took years to weaken.
But the barrier held.
The plague never returned.
Not because a king became stronger.
Not because a rare Omega sacrificed herself.
Because a kingdom finally learned what its oldest magic had been trying to teach it all along.
A bond could not survive through ownership.
A pack could not survive through fear.
And love could never be real when one person had no choice.
Ana once believed invisibility was the only way to stay free.
Víctor once believed control was the only way to keep a kingdom safe.
They had both been wrong.
And whenever someone told the story of the Winter Solstice Ball—how the terrifying Lycan King shattered a glass because another Alpha touched his supposed mate—Ana always corrected one detail.
Víctor had never made her his.
Not really.
He had done something far more difficult.
He had given her every reason to choose him.
And she did.
Again.
And again.
And again.
For the rest of their lives. 🐺🌙❤️
