My Reverse Aging Shocked The Entire Lycan Court

Azariah Morgan had his answer, and the look in his eyes shifted—there was a flicker of respect, a recognition of something he hadn’t seen before. It stirred something in me, a sense of responsibility I hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. I wasn’t young anymore, and I couldn’t rely on the Lycan King’s protection forever. He would age, he would step down, and I needed to be ready.

The time to build my own strength, my own influence, was now. I couldn’t afford to remain in the shadow of the Lycan King. Azariah and I were bound together, not by choice, but by circumstance. His success was my success, and mine was his. It was a strange symbiosis, but it was the reality we lived in. At sixteen, he was young, without a pack or connections to lean on. In the cutthroat world of Lycan politics, I was his only ally, his only shield. So, I had to fight for him.

I straightened my posture, though my body felt heavy, aged beyond its years. Every day, Azariah was busy, but I was busier. I moved from one meeting to the next, attending gatherings, forging connections. In the mornings, I visited high-ranking pack members; in the afternoons, I attended pack councils; in the evenings, I mingled with the pack’s elite. I hated it—the small talk, the politics, the constant need to prove myself. I was too young, too inexperienced, and yet, I had to play the part.

But they respected me. Respect for the hierarchy was a cornerstone of our pack, and I was the Lycan King’s favored princess. Except for one.

Elaina Peters.

She was the King’s daughter, sixteen and radiant, with a personality as bold as her scent—sharp and commanding. When rumors of a mate bond between Azariah and me began to circulate, everyone—including Elaina—assumed the King would bond her with Azariah. She was the obvious choice, the golden child. But the King surprised them all by choosing me.

Elaina didn’t take it well. She confronted her father, demanding Azariah for herself. The King scolded her, calling her selfish and unworthy of the bond. From that moment on, Elaina saw me as her rival.

At a pack gathering, Elaina, fueled by too much wine, let her bitterness spill over. She cried, lamenting her mother’s Omega status and how the King had never truly favored her. She claimed he cared more about me, an outsider, than his own daughter. Then, in front of everyone, she turned to me and spat, “Azariah is only sixteen! How can you, at your age, take him for yourself and ruin his life?”

My hands trembled as I held my glass, but I kept my expression calm. I could have lashed out, but I didn’t. Anything I said would only humiliate Azariah further. Our bond was already a source of mockery, and I refused to add to it.

Then, Elaina’s voice cut off abruptly. I followed her gaze to the doorway, where Azariah stood. I didn’t know how long he’d been there, how much he’d heard. My carefully maintained composure shattered.

I cried.

Yes, a princess, a Lycan of my standing, reduced to tears in front of the pack. But my tears weren’t seen as vulnerability—they were pitiful, the tears of an aging wolf. I wanted to disappear, to sink into the ground. This wasn’t even the most humiliating moment of my life. Once, during the King’s marking anniversary, I’d lost control of my wolf form in front of everyone. Aging had stripped me of dignity, and I’d avoided large gatherings since then. But for Azariah, I’d forced myself back into the spotlight.

Through my tears, I saw Azariah stride toward me. He knelt on one knee, extending his hand, his voice steady and kind. “It’s late, Princess. Let me take you home.”

He was calm, unfazed by Elaina’s words or my breakdown. I took his hand, and he helped me to my feet, guiding me through the crowd with a quiet strength that silenced the room. If we didn’t show our discomfort, then the discomfort belonged to them.

In the car ride back, I asked him directly, “Do you regret marking me?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m from a small pack, with nothing to my name. The King gave me a chance, and you’ve supported me in ways I can’t repay. I’m grateful.”

I pressed further. “You earned your place through your own merit, yet people say you marked me to climb the ranks. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“I earned my position. I’ve never sought to use you for my gain. I have no regrets.”

Then, he looked at me, his eyes softening. “But you, Princess… you’ve shouldered so much for me. At your age, you should be at peace, not fighting battles for my sake.”

I turned away, my face burning with embarrassment. “Azariah, just remember this: marking me will bring you happiness. They may mock you now, but one day, they’ll envy you. They’ll look up to you.”

He nodded. “I’ll remember, Princess.”