The Lycan Princess and her Alpha Mate

HELENA'S POV

I had been having the same dream every night for the past two years.

I would always see a large white wolf walking towards me, and then he would disappear, and in his place would be a man of equal strength and calibre, beckoning me to follow him, reaching out to me. It had bothered me for a while, but I soon got used to it. It didn't seem like a typical dream, but there was no one I could talk to about it. No one except Cara.

After the first few times it happened, I finally summoned the courage to tell her about it. And what she said afterwards confirmed the same suspicions I'd been having. A mate dream. I found it strange, though. So did she. It was unnatural amongst our kind to have dreams and visions of things.

You see, amongst the werewolves, we found our mates by their scent. It was how Cara described how she first met Henry, her mate. They were both eighteen, working in the castle, and the most overpowering scent knocked them both out of their senses. They had no choice but to follow that scent, and it led them straight to each other.

I didn't know anything about scents that were overpowering. I was different from everyone else, the very reason why I couldn't leave this castle, despite my title, despite the position I held; I had no wolf. I couldn't shift like the others, like Cara, like my father, the Lycan King. Added to that, my senses weren't as sharp, and my ability to heal was poor.

So, as far as scents and finding my mate went, I wasn't really sure I had a say in any of that. I was wolf-less. I had felt no spark. No tether. Nothing to prove that I even had a mate out there. And if I did—what were the chances he’d want a wolf who couldn’t shift? Who was more myth than reality? Less wolf, more... shame. It was why this dream unsettled me so much.

But tonight, unlike any other time it happened, it felt so real. It was as vivid as real life. It was sharper. More compelling. The cold in the air, the weight of his presence, the heat curling in my chest when his eyes met mine—none of it felt like a dream anymore. It felt like a memory I didn’t remember living. Waking up was almost painful; that was how intense it was. But eventually, I would always have to wake up and face my reality. A wolf-less girl, now also mate-less.

Most wolves found their mates when they turned eighteen. I would be twenty tomorrow—and still, nothing. No scent. No instinctual pull. No one.

The morning sun filtered through the frost-covered windowpanes, thin light stretching across the stone floor. Cara entered like she always did—carrying a pot of warm water, a washcloth tossed over her shoulder, humming softly until she saw the look on my face.

She paused. “The same dream?”

I gave a small nod.

She set the pot down and knelt beside the bed. Her concern, as always, was gentle. Genuine.

“It felt... real this time,” I murmured.

Cara didn’t say anything right away. Instead, she dipped the cloth in the water and wrung it out with practiced ease. “Maybe that means something’s changing.”

“I doubt it,” I said quietly.

And I did. Because how could I expect fate to care about me?

I was the daughter of the formidable Lycan king—and a failed one at that. Born to power, but unable to shift. I was supposed to be my father's heir, the next in line to the throne. But that right was snatched away from me due to my disability. I couldn't rule a kingdom of wolves without being one myself.

From the moment I was conceived in my mother's womb, fate had other plans for me. First taking her at birth, then taking my wolf, now it was one thing that I didn't even know how much I wanted, a mate.

My father once said to me that it would have been better if I were born an omega than whatever it is I was. His attitude towards me, as well as many other things, had changed since the night of my shifting ceremony seven years ago. I was thirteen. I remembered that night all too clearly—the full moon rising high as everyone watched in anticipation. I’d felt something stir within me, something hot and wild and ancient—and I surrendered to it, just like they told me to.

But it stopped. Halfway. And when I looked into the reflection pool, all I saw was a girl caught between forms. Fangs. Fur on my forearms. My eyes were glowing with an unnatural gold. Half-human, half-beast—and utterly broken. The silence from the gathered crowd was deafening. But it was my father’s face that ruined me most.

He looked... embarrassed.

If not for the love he had for my mother and the unfortunate resemblance I bore to him, I’m sure he would’ve denied I was his altogether. Instead, he locked me away in this castle—hidden, shamed, forgotten. Nothing about my life was fair. Fate had been cruel to me.

No one could explain what it was that was wrong with me; the best physicians and even the magicians couldn't help. Eventually, my father gave up, retreating into himself and focusing on ruling his kingdom. I'd spent most of my days alone, reading in the castle's library, wondering about how different life would be if my mother were still with us.

“People say you smell your mate when they’re close,” I said quietly, letting Cara sponge down my arms. “That it’s unmistakable.”

She nodded, a small smile on her lips. “Like nothing else in the world.”

“That’s what you said about Henry.”

Her grin grew. “He smells like warm cinnamon and rain on stone.” Her voice softened. “I’d know him anywhere.”

“Maybe it’s just a dream,” I whispered. “Just my mind trying to give me something it knows I’ll never have.”

Cara paused, looking at me. “Or maybe it’s a sign you’ll have it soon.”

I wanted to believe her. But hope was a dangerous thing when you’d spent most of your life being told you weren’t enough.

A knock at the door interrupted us. A man stepped in. His long cloak draped across his shoulders, touched, and swept the floor behind him. He looked around a bit, then he spoke.

“Princess,” he said. “Your father requires your presence in his study.” It was Cerberus Blackmoore, my father's Beta and right-hand man. Customarily, Cara and I bowed in greeting. His presence carried power, but it was nothing compared to being in the presence of my father, the king. He walked out as quietly as he came in.

My stomach tightened. My father rarely ever summons me, let alone asks Beta Cerberus to send for me. I'd hardly seen my father these past few years, not since he gave up trying to make me shift. Since I couldn't be an heir, he took his interests away from my affairs. I wondered what he suddenly needed my attention for. But whatever it was, some feeling at the pit of my stomach told me it wouldn't be good.

Cara laid out a pale green dress for me to change into. As she turned to leave, she paused at the door, glancing back.

“Good luck,” she said softly.

I gave her a faint nod. Whatever this was about, I would need it.

HELENA'S POV

I cleared my throat noisily, trying to alert my father to my presence. “You summoned me, Father,” I said, curtsying and bowing my head. There was something about his presence that made it impossible for anyone around him to stand up straight to him.

“I hear you’ve been having strange dreams.” I didn't answer immediately, the silence in the room lingered a bit, and my mind was racing. The only person I told about this was Cara. He couldn’t possibly know unless—

“You’re right, Father, I am—“ And then I said the one thing I’d been wary of admitting out loud.“— I think I’ve found my mate.”

He suddenly burst out laughing. It was strange. I didn't remember the last time I'd heard his laugh. It would be a memory of when I was much younger, buried beneath the memory of the years that would follow. He was always so broody and serious, but I reckoned his laughter wasn’t because of my humor; he was laughing at me, at the idea that I’d found a mate. I felt a