Fated to the Lonely Lycan King

3rd Person POV As he made his way through the pavement, the howls of the other wolves filled Damien's ears. He was the Lycan King, and everybody around him treated him with the utmost respect. He was honored and protected everywhere he went. He was thrown parties by every pack near his district in hopes that he would be able to find his mate in that pack. But, alas, he has been alive for decades, and not once has he found his mate. Not that he has anything to worry about, he has stopped aging since he turned 23 seven decades ago, and finding a mate was the least of his priorities, but that doesn't mean it would stop him from fooling around.  He looked around and saw a lot of people filling the mansion. Everyone was trying not to look, but the more they tried not to look the more Damien noticed. He was ushered inside by one of the female omegas, and gestured for him to sit at a table where the daughters of the Alpha's gathered. Being a Lycan, he was either treated with a lot of respect or jealousy, since a Lycan is a higher form of a werewolf, and he was the last of his kind.  He sat down as he carefully studied the tone of the room. There was laughter everywhere and joyful chatter.  "Your Highness." the omega who escorted him in bows.  He ignored the omega and looked at one of the females at the table. She decides to pour him a drink, and he looks at her with a tight smile.  "It's very noisy in the mansion tonight, isn't it, Your Highness?" she started.  He quietly gets the cup and takes a sip from it without revealing a hint of emotion on his face.  "Did you hear tonight was going to be a blood moon?" another girl chimed in.  Damien looks up and slowly looks at the girl.  "What of it?" he questions.  "Your Highness," she pauses to bow "It's just said that on a blood moon our kind is known to get insane, especially those without mates. They're known to devour a lot of people in their way-"  "That's just some crazy rumor. Not once has any of our kind ever done that!" the other girl spat.  Damien puts his cup down on the table and gently taps on the glass.  "If that's the case, maybe I should just stop coming here altogether, no? A lot of males and females are unmated in this place and I don't want to get devoured by anything tonight." he knowingly smirks at the woman in front of him.  "Oh your excellency, if you stop coming here there's nothing we could look forward to anymore." she shyly blushes.  Damien looks down at his reflection on the glass and stares at himself. He was practically a god, and yet here he is thirstily staring at the women of different packs just because he couldn't find his mate. A part of him wishes he could be normal. It was foolish and pitiful to think so. Maybe the great Goddess will be able to hear his cries and finally show him where he would be able to find his mate.  He looked up at her again, and he finally decides to get up. He stares at her long enough and finally leaves the room. He enters one of the more private rooms in the mansion and the woman quietly follows him from behind. He grabs her by the wrist and gives her a kiss.  "Your Highness, should I turn off the lights." she muttered.  "It doesn't matter, you won't remember any of this anyway." he smirked and he goes back taking her lips.  As a Lycan he has the ability to do certain things like alter memories which include erasing and tampering with memory, he is also able to possess super strength and super speed, he is able to mess with time as well but only to stop it, and finally, he is able to teleport wherever he wanted as long as he has a vague idea where he wanted to go.  As soon as Damien was done with her, he stops time and devours every last bit of her. He erases the memories of those around him to ever forget she existed and alter their memories on his whereabouts. His people didn't really care if he killed anybody, he was the overall ruler of everything. He can't be killed unless he is able to create pups and transfer everything to the pup, hence making him mortal.  Since he has lived his life for so long, he has grown numb to a lot of things. The seasons, the times he pretends to be interested in someone; to him, it has just become a never-ending repetition. He made his way back into his big mansion in where he lives alone. His mansion was hidden deep inside the forest where if anyone would try to go there, or even attempt to run away he would be able to get to them before they think of anything else to do.  He was living his life into killing people, and at some point he gets tired of this kind of life.   "How much longer will I have to live such a pitiful and sorry excuse of a life?" he thinks to himself.  He lazily looks out the window as he swirls his scotch, deep inside he has accepted his fate of living alone and mateless. He has given up all hopes that such things were to happen. He took a deep breath and finished his scotch in one gulp.  "I guess I should just head to work." he mutters to himself.  Upon the decades he has lived, he has gotten bored of every life he lived and gotten around working. Everything he owns now was a product of his hard work, and he finds it funny that despite his status in the werewolf world, he worked among humans.