Taming The Lupercus Mad King

Lysander’s POV

“I didn’t know men had such amazing bodies.”

The voice cut through the quiet like a knife, and every part of me went still. My heart didn’t just skip, it dropped into my stomach and twisted hard.

The words echoed through the trees. I knew instantly who had spoken. Ryker.

Of all people, it had to be him.

He was always watching, always lingering too long when I walked past, always trying to find favor in King Voras’s eyes by stepping on others. I had seen the way his eyes followed me for years.

And now, he knew.

I stood frozen in the middle of the lake, water brushing just below my waist. My hands flew to my chest, arms crossing tight as I tried to cover my breasts. The rest of my body was still exposed, water doing little to hide the truth he had already seen.

I felt small, exposed, like a secret laid bare. I had come here when I thought it was safe, when the pack house was quiet and no one would notice my absence.

I hadn’t had a proper bath in days because of the shared bathroom. The dirt on my skin made me feel less like myself, like I was sinking into something ugly. I just wanted a moment alone to feel clean again, even if it was just for a little while.

I turned slowly, holding my arms tight over my chest, my shoulders shaking. Ryker leaned on the tree, his arms crossed, lips curled in that smirk I hated. His eyes raked over me without shame. I wanted to run. I wanted to disappear. But I couldn’t.

I met his eyes, forcing my chin up even though my knees felt weak. My voice stayed stuck in my throat, but I made myself stand tall. “You shouldn’t be here,” I said, looking him straight in the eyes.

He smiled. And I stood there, pretending not to be scared, even though I was. “You followed me here, Ryker?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though I could feel the fear crawling up my spine like ice.

“Yes, I did,” he said, and the way he smiled made my stomach turn. “You’ve been acting so strange for years, and I’ve been watching, waiting to find out why. First of all, why would a man have such long, beautiful hair?”

“And that face—too soft, too perfect. Then that chest…”

His eyes dragged down my body slowly, his grin growing wider. “I’ve been watching you, Lysander. And now,” he said, raising his hand as if holding something precious, “now I have your secret right here at my fingertips.”

The way he looked at me, like I was something he could take, something that belonged to him. “Is that it?” I snapped, stepping back in the water even though I knew there was nowhere to run.

“You want to report me to King Voras? You want me dead, Ryker? You think you’re doing something smart? You have no idea what I’ve been through or what my mother went through to keep me safe!”

“So just, just get the fuck out of here!” My voice cracked at the end, but I didn’t back down. I wouldn’t. My hands were shaking, and the cold water wasn’t helping.

He ran a hand through his hair, slowly, like he was in no rush at all, then stepped into the water toward me. His gaze never left mine, and my heart pounded so loud I could barely hear him speak.

“I don’t want to report you,” he said, his voice low and thick. “I just want you. Right here. Right now.”

His hands touched my waist, fingers curling like claws. I flinched with every part of me screaming to run, but I stood there frozen, my heart pounding in my chest.

“I always admired you,” he said, biting his lower lip as if he were savouring the moment. “Thank the moon goddess you’re not a man, as I thought.”

I couldn’t move. His grip was firm, too firm, and the heat of his hands burnt into my skin. I felt sick, trapped, like the world was closing in, but I forced my eyes to meet his, forced the fear down as best I could.

I would not beg. I would not cry.

But gods, I was scared.

His touch sent a strange chill through me, something I’d never felt before, not pain, not pleasure, but a raw wave of heat and panic that made my breath catch.

My skin prickled with goosebumps as his fingers pressed against my waist, and my whole body stiffened, not from want, but from fear wrapped in confusion.

“You don’t even know what you’re missing. But you will.” He whispered, lips brushing the shell of my ear, and I couldn’t stop the way my shoulders tensed. "It’d be your first time... and your best, Lysander.”

My name sounded dirty on his tongue. His hands moved to mine, slowly pulling them from my chest, thinking I was giving in. He didn’t know I was studying him, watching, waiting for an opening.

I kept my face still, like I was too stunned to react, but inside, my thoughts were racing. I had to get away. “Wow,” he breathed, eyes roaming over my breasts, the look in them making my skin crawl.

“Such bosom…”

That was enough. With all the strength I could gather, I hit his hand away and shoved him hard, sending him stumbling back into the water.

“Get the fuck off me, you bastard!” I screamed, my voice raw with rage and fear as I turned to run. My feet splashed through the water, kicking wildly, desperate to reach the shore.

But he was faster.

His hand wrapped around my ankle, yanking me back so hard I slipped and fell, my body half-submerged.

Water splashed into my eyes, and before I could scream again, his other hand tangled in my hair and yanked it back, dragging my head out of the water like I was nothing but a broken doll.

“Don’t think you can run from me, Lysander!” he roared. I kicked and twisted, but the water slowed me, dragged at my limbs like it wanted me to lose. If this were on dry land, I would’ve knocked him flat with one strike.

But the lake was cold and heavy, and I was naked and cornered. Still, I didn’t stop. My fists thrashed, my nails clawed, and though fear wrapped itself tight around my chest, I refused to let it win. I had hidden for so long. Fought so hard to stay unseen.

I wouldn’t let it end like this. Not here. Not with him.

He grabbed me hard again and pulled me out of the water like I weighed nothing as my feet scraped against the muddy ground. I wanted to scream, but I knew no one would hear me as the lake was far from the pack house.

Even worse, if anyone came and saw me naked, they would punish me, not Ryker. “What the fuck do you want from me, Ryker?” My voice cracked as I shouted. He didn’t flinch. His grip only tightened.

“I told you, Lysander. Stop acting stubborn.”

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “So this is all you ever wanted?” I said, my voice shaking.

“You never once wondered why I dressed up like a male all these years? You just want to take advantage of me after finding out I’m a girl.” He grinned. That same ugly, hungry grin.

“I don’t fucking care about you, Lysander. I don’t care about your story. I’m here to take what I want. And I will. His words cut deep, deeper than any wound I’d ever had.

“Well… let’s see if that will happen.”

Then I moved. Fast.

He was distracted by his own smugness and didn't see it coming. I drove my knee up with everything I had straight into his groin. His whole body jerked, the breath knocked out of him with a choking sound, and his hands flew to his lower stomach.

As he doubled over, his face twisting in pain, I pulled my leg back again and sent my foot flying straight into his face. He stumbled, eyes wide, blood bursting from his nose. Then his body hit the ground with a heavy thud, unmoving.

I stood there for a moment, frozen. My body ached, my legs felt weak, and water dripped from my hair down my back. Ryker had passed out, he wasn’t dead, I could see his chest moving, but he was out cold. And for now, that was enough.

But fear still clawed at me because he would wake up. Maybe not now, maybe not in a few minutes, but when he did… he would be angry and would expose my secret to everyone to ruin me.

I dropped to my knees beside the bush where I had hidden my clothes.

My hands shook so badly I could barely hold onto the fabric. I pulled my shirt over my head, still damp, sticking to my wet skin, and then yanked on the rest of my clothes as quickly as I could, stumbling once as I tried to tie my boots.

I just needed to reach the pack house. To get somewhere safe.

"Even if it was just another lie."