Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals!

Maisie

Jenny’s plan was as simple as it was mad.

But after listening to Jenny and Regina explain that yesterday, they’d found Cole’s tongue deep in the throat of Becca Carlson, the daughter of neighbouring Alpha Carlson, I was upset enough to try.

I mean, we always knew Cole was a bastard but you would think if he rejected me for Lana, he would stay faithful to her.

Somehow, I knew he was sleeping around just to punish me. Cole was cruel like that. I just didn’t understand why he hated me so much. But I was done trying to analyse it.

To make him understand, I had to retaliate in the exact same manner.

The first phase was the make over. Jenny and Regina were very dedicated to making me go from an apparent hobo to drop-dead gorgeous. I didn’t see a magic wand anywhere and had no faith this could actually happen.

Next, my ’debut’ was the first year mixer tonight. I’d managed to talk them off the ladder of losing my virginity to some jock in a bathroom stall. I simply couldn’t do it. But I did agree to make out with someone hot.

It’d burn Cole enough to cause an alarm. And I didn’t have to give away something that meant a lot to me just for revenge.

The third phase was taking the sting to a burn, like he did to me, and this was how I was going to save my life.

I was going to get a boyfriend. Alphas were often possessive of what they considered theirs. Even if they rejected them, a part of their subconscious will always claim some form of ownership to it.

Perhaps, an Alpha’s son from a different pack. Or even a Lycan.

I was seriously beginning to think my best friends had gone mad.

The final phase was Regina’s touch. When I had Cole Hayes salivating after me, I was going to reject him, too. Maybe if Alpha Dante saw his son dying in front of him, he’d be more inclined to take my case seriously.

In truth, I didn’t believe it could work, but if there was anything my best friends were, it was determined.

The first stop was the boutique. Jenny masked out her brother, Lyon’s card, buying me things the goddess knows I could never wear.

"I can’t accept this. It costs more than four months of my salaries combined!" I exclaimed as Jenny picked out a designer tweed set.

She waved me off. "Lyon won’t mind. He has more money than he knows what to do with."

Jenny Park might not come from a family of Betas or Gammas, but if there was anything the Parks are known for in Ashbourne, it was their affluence. Park Industries was popular around the world and that almost made up for the fact that they were a family of half-humans, half-wolves.

Almost.

Jenny laid out a scandalous body con against my chest and nodded in approval. "You should wear this to the party tonight. Your overzealous training at least accounted for something. You have a wonderful body, May, and we’re going to show it off–"

Regina’s phone buzzed as she dumped a pair of short leather skirts, pantyhose and lacy underthings that made my cheeks flame into my arms. "Crap. It’s the hair appointment. Why don’t you check out the clothes while I go save our slot? It’s just across the street."

I growled inwardly as they dumped more shopping bags into my arms and pushed me into the stall.

It wasn’t that Regina was lying. I did have a beautiful body. Toned thighs. A barely existent waistline. Full breasts and a fatter ass that wouldn’t quite go away, no matter how hard I tried to work it out.

It was that I was so used to hiding under the shelter of clothes that checking out each cloth picked out for me made me feel naked. And unsafe.

I knew it was psychological and I had to get over it if I hoped to survive this.

I slipped into a pleated mini skirt, a fitted cardigan unbuttoned at the top and the most uncomfortable shoes I’ve ever worn in my life. Knee-high boots with six-inched tall heels.

They were pretty, but for a clutz like me, it was going to be my death.

Growling again, I half stumbled out of the stall. "Alright, this isn’t going to work, Jenny–"

For the second time that month, I rebuffed off a wall so hard, my eyes watered and my nose stung. My already terrible balance went square and I was suddenly falling.

A strong, warm hand clasped around my wrist and halted me from cracking my head against the pretty tiled floors. And I exhaled sharply, suspended mid-fall.

"You may open your eyes now. Or I just might drop you."

I blinked rapidly, watery eyes fluttering open.

And I froze.

I was staring into a pair of dark violet eyes.

I felt like someone had just slammed me in the gut.

There was a freaking Lycan in the store!

And he was touching me!

His lips were moving but I had no idea what was coming out of his mouth. Could’ve been a whole bunch of nonsense and I wouldn’t have noticed. Because I was too busy staring like an idiot. Maybe I hit my head harder than I realized.

He had glossy black hair that he kept long, tied into a neat man-bun behind his head. He was dressed in biker leather and had a dangerous, bad-boy edge to him. There was an earring dangling off his left ear and a tattoo just under his left ear. His proportions were abysmal.

His chin was so pointed, it could’ve cut through glass. His nose would’ve been the envy of plastic surgeons. And goddess, his lips. They were pink. Firm. Full. He put the ’G’ in gorgeous. Okay. Multiple Gs.

And he was so tall and large, he was hunched slightly to fit into the boutique.

I recognized him from the hallway at school. No one had eyes like his. Or hair that dark that shimmered even without the sun in it.

"Are you alright, Ms. Adams?" He repeated slowly, words enunciated with an accent that rubbed over my skin like a caress, even if he was talking to me like I was a complete dunce.

"You—you know my name," I said breathlessly.

Idiot. Fucking idiot.

He let me go abruptly.

And I fell back on my ass with a yelp. "Hey!"

His eyes crinkled slightly and it took me a second to realize he was laughing. At me. "You have an awfully intimate relationship with floors." His gaze flicked down. "Nice legs."

I followed his glance and gasped in horror. The skirt was bunched around my upper thighs and even I could see my polka dotted panties on display. He wasn’t even trying to hide that he was staring at my panties.

My face flamed. I shoved the skirt down and gritted a retort. "You’re a disgusting pervert."

He chuckled darkly, stalking off with his hands shoved in his pockets. I couldn’t help but notice that for someone so big, he didn’t leave any sounds when he moved. He moved gracefully, like a soft, dancing wind.

Feeling my way up, I find myself utterly alone in the stall. Where did Jenny go—

"Prince Soren," the boutique owner gushed and every attendant in the boutique flocked around him like he was candy. "We are beyond pleased to have you—"

My ears began ringing as I watched the Lycan regard them with little interest.

Prince Soren? Like the Prince Soren Black? As in the Lycan Queen’s nephew?

His violet gaze met my horrified one, and his lips tugged up in a half-smirk that made his eyes twinkle. "I’ll have that," he said without looking away from me.

He was pointing at a pair of red lacy underwear. A see-through bra and a thong that should’ve made him blush. But it was I who was ashamed as he nodded towards me, "In her size."

The attendant glanced at me, unsure, as if trying to connect whatever dots I, an Omega, might share with a Lycan. "Her?"

He leveled her with a frosty stare and she all but ran to grab it. He disappeared around a shelf, and I shook my head, half-convincing myself he was a nut-job.

Upon checking out with my clothes twenty minutes later, he was gone from the store and the attendant extended me a light pink box with a cute bowed ribbon atop of it.

"That’s not mine," I said.

Her smile was broad. "A gift from the Prince."

Inside the tissue lay a delicate, scandalous set of lingerie I’d never buy for myself and a small, heavy card folded like an invitation.

My fingers were clumsy as I opened it. The card smelled faintly of sandalwood and leather, and the ink was a flourish. At the bottom, four tiny crests were embossed in a neat row.

In the center, in the same elegant hand, two words:

You’re it.