My Alpha Abused Me Until the Lycan Prince Claimed Me

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of Adam's guest room, casting golden patterns across the unfamiliar bed. I stretched, my body still aching from yesterday's humiliation, but feeling strangely lighter. The memory of Adam's touch lingered on my skin like a protective shield.

A commotion outside drew me to the window. My heart stuttered as I recognized Maxwell's sleek black car leading a convoy of SUVs through the gates. Behind them, at least a dozen warriors in Hudson Pack colors marched in formation.

"He's here," I whispered, my voice catching in my throat.

Adam appeared in the doorway, already dressed in a tailored suit that emphasized his broad shoulders. "Stay here," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "This is between him and me."

I nodded, but the moment he left, I followed. I couldn't let him face Maxwell alone—not because of me.

By the time I reached the main gates, Adam was already standing there, his posture relaxed but his aura pulsing with barely contained power. Maxwell stood opposite him, his face contorted with rage.

"Return my property," Maxwell demanded, his voice carrying across the lawn. "The Omega belongs to my pack."

Adam didn't flinch. "She belongs to no one."

"She signed a contract!" Maxwell snarled, waving a document. "She's mine for another year of service."

"Contracts don't apply to mates," Adam replied coolly. "Especially not when the contract holder abused his position."

Maxwell's eyes narrowed dangerously. "If you don't return her, our packs' alliance is broken. Is one wolfless Omega worth that price?"

Adam stepped forward, and suddenly the air around him shimmered with golden light. The warriors behind Maxwell dropped to their knees, necks bared in submission.

"Listen carefully," Adam said, his voice deadly quiet. "Hannah is under my protection now. If you or anyone from your pack approaches her again, I will personally tear your throat out and obliterate everything you've built."

Maxwell's face drained of color, but his eyes—those cold gray eyes I'd feared for years—held something new. Something manic and obsessive that made my skin crawl.

"You can't protect her forever," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "She'll always be mine."

Adam's growl vibrated through the ground beneath my feet. "Leave. Now."

Maxwell retreated, but not before his gaze found mine. The look in his eyes sent ice through my veins.

---

"He won't stop," I said later, as Adam and I sat in his study. "You don't know him like I do."

Adam's hand covered mine, warm and reassuring. "I know enough."

I took a deep breath, gathering courage. "There's something I need to tell you about my mother."

His eyes softened as I spoke about Victoria Collins—the woman who'd been murdered before I could truly know her.

"She hid something in the Hudson Pack library," I explained, remembering the vague images from my childhood. "Journals. She told me they were important, that they held the truth about why I'm...different."

Adam leaned forward, his expression intent. "Do you remember where?"

I nodded slowly. "There's a loose floorboard behind the oldest bookshelf. She showed me once when I was very young."

"We need to get those journals," he said firmly.

"The next full moon," I suggested. "Everyone will be running. The library will be empty."

Adam nodded, his mind already working. "Three days from now. I know the grounds well enough—I can get us in and out."

---

The Hudson Pack house loomed before us, dark and silent under the full moon's glow. Most of the pack was deep in the forest, running in wolf form, their howls echoing in the distance.

"Follow me," Adam whispered, leading me through the shadows toward a service entrance I'd used countless times.

The familiar scent of the pack house hit me as we slipped inside—polish, wood, and the lingering musk of wolves. My heart hammered against my ribs as we made our way to the library.

"Someone's coming," Adam hissed suddenly.

We ducked behind a column as footsteps approached. My breath caught in my throat when I recognized Marcus's silhouette passing by. But he paused, his head tilting as if sensing something.

"Adam?" he called softly.

We remained frozen until he moved away, though not before glancing in our direction with narrowed eyes.

The library door creaked as Adam eased it open. Inside, moonlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating rows of ancient books.

"Behind the shelf," I whispered, pointing to the far corner.

Adam moved with predatory grace, lifting me effortlessly so I could reach the highest shelf. My fingers found the loose board immediately, and I pried it open.

Three leather-bound journals lay hidden inside.

As we turned to leave, a shadow fell across the doorway.

"I thought I smelled something different tonight," Marcus said, his voice oddly strained.