The Lone Wolf's Lycan Princess

Book

Erin POV

As River worked, I spent the rest of the day exploring. He seemed to be avoiding me a little, but I wasn't as self-conscious about it this time. Maybe it was because the new voice in my head said he was doing so because he was horny and didn't want to hurt me. Never did I imagine I would be speaking with someone, or rather something, that was supposedly a part of me in my mind. Especially about matters like s*x. Was it bad that learning River was horny from the voice actually made me feel good? It made me feel like he really did like all of me.

I offered to help pack, but he insisted I rest, saying my lycan may be ready to shift soon and it was important to stay healthy. He claimed nothing was off-limits. So, after some time, I grabbed one of his books off his coffee table and settled on his couch. Only three pages in, River startled me by placing a blanket over me and putting a cup down on the table next to me.

"It's a smoothie, easy on the stomach, lots of good stuff in it," he said.

"Thanks," I said, taking a sip. As I've learned, it calms him to see me trying. It was really good, but then again, everything he has made me is good. He then looked at the book I picked.

"Sorry, should I not read it?" I said.

"You're more than welcome to read it, but just be warned, it gets violent at times," he explained.

"Okay," I said.

"I need a few more hours to work. Are you all set here?" he asked.

"Yes, you know I'm supposed to be working for you," I said, causing him to smirk.

"You are. Having you resting here is helping me," he said and then left. I drank a little more of the smoothie and then started reading, getting lost in the pages. It was beautifully written. I had already read another book by this author. You seriously thought you were transported into the book when reading from them, and this one was doing just that as I got lost in the story. Go figure, it was about werewolves. I guess River would have them since he was one. The story was about a werewolf cast out, one who had nothing, nor did anyone want them.

The book delved deep into the wolf's struggle for survival, and with every page, my heart ached. The challenges he faced were described in such vivid detail that they brought tears to my eyes. At one point, the wolf was captured and tortured. He was outnumbered and overpowered, subjected to relentless beatings in an attempt to break him. The pain and suffering he endured were palpable, as if I could feel it in my own body. As I read, my chest heaved with emotions, and before I knew it, River's voice interrupted my immersion in the book. Startled, I looked up to see him gently removing the book from my hands.

"I think that's enough for today," he said, concern evident in his voice.

"Sorry, did I disturb your work?" I asked, feeling guilty for getting lost in the story.

"No, you've been sitting here for hours without moving. But it's clear that the book is upsetting you. Let's give your eyes a rest."

He carefully placed the book on his table, and I couldn't help but apologize. "I'm sorry, I just get so engrossed in books. This one is really good, but it's also heartbreaking. I admire the author's attention to detail. Actually, I have one of their books at my place. It's funny, but it has helped me through tough times."

A small smile formed on River's face. "That's the power of good writing and reading. It can be therapeutic. I know it is for me."

"Thanks for letting me read it," I said, my voice filled with gratitude.

"I have all the author's books, and you're welcome to read all of them. But let's take it slow, so you don't upset yourself too much," he replied, his words gentle and caring.

"You have all of them?" I exclaimed, my voice unexpectedly loud and strong. River chuckled, his laughter echoing through the room.

"Wow, you really do like them," he remarked. I felt a tinge of embarrassment creeping up within me.

"I do," I admitted, my cheeks flushing slightly.

"The book I was reading. The character, at times, reminded me of you, from what you have told me. Is your world, well, I guess it is this world, but do wolves really treat ones called rogues like that?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.

River's expression turned serious as he responded, "I'm afraid many do. That book you read is based on true events."

"Really?" I gasped, surprised by the revelation. "Wait, do you know the author?" I inquired, hoping for a connection. After all, he was an author himself.

"Yes, I know them really well," he replied, his eyes sparkling with knowledge. My excitement was palpable, and River couldn't help but tease me. "You look like a fangirl right now. It's honestly adorable," he playfully remarked.

"So, you know whose story it is then. I thought I had it hard, but I can't imagine what that man went through," I confessed.

"He is fine now. He struggled for a long time, but he has someone now. Someone that made all those struggles worth it," River assured me. My heart fluttered as I whispered his name, "River." But he gently placed his finger over my lips, silencing me.

"The wolf in that book, he is happy because he kept going. He became strong so he could keep the one that would steal his heart forever safe," he revealed, his eyes locked with mine.

"This story, it is your story," I said, realizing the connection. River nodded, confirming my intuition.

"Yes, it is. As I said, writing is therapeutic. I am the author, and the story is based on what I faced," he explained. Overwhelmed with emotion, I pulled out of the blanket and wrapped my arms tightly around him, feeling the warmth of his embrace.

"R-river," I stammered, my heart racing as I mustered the courage to ask him something.

His deep Amber eyes met mine as I hesitantly pulled away, searching for words. "Yes," he replied, his voice calm and steady.

"Well, um, the book...the man...well, I guess you...it said you don't like being touched. I didn't get to why," I nervously blurted out.

"I don't like being touched," he confessed, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "It's one of the reasons I keep my distance from many. It upsets me to the point where I struggle to find calm."

My worry deepened, and I voiced my concern, "So, when I touch you..." Before I could finish, he took my hand and tenderly placed it against his cheek.

"Your touch, I welcome. Your touch, I crave. Only yours," he assured me, his touch sending a current of warmth through my fingertips.

Curiosity still burned within me, and I managed to find the courage to ask, "Why don't you like being touched?"

His gaze softened, revealing a hidden pain. "The book doesn't go into detail. It was one part of my life I've been unable to write," he admitted, his voice carrying a hint of regret.

I felt a pang of sympathy, realizing the depth of his struggle. "You don't have to tell me, then. I don't want to push," I reassured him.

"It's alright, I don't mind sharing with you. I'll always be here to answer your questions. You probably know by now that I lived as a pack slave for a while, after I was captured. It happened shortly after I acquired my wolf, and since the pack I came from had cast me away, many other packs saw me as an opportunity to gather information. But the truth is, I didn't know much. However, they saw something else in me. Despite being a rogue, I carry the bloodline of an Alpha wolf, from what many consider the strongest lineage. Well, technically two bloodlines if you count my mother. This means that my offspring will also possess strength. So, they decided to force me to mate with their more powerful and higher-ranking females, in hopes of producing strong wolves who could elevate their pack above others.

I would remain a slave, never becoming a father to my own children. I would simply impregnate these females as part of their plan. And since bloodlines can be tainted by taking what is needed from me, they wanted me to actually mate. Perhaps they also knew it would be a form of torture for me. They drugged me on multiple occasions and attempted to coerce me into mating. I remember feeling the touch of other she-wolves, their hands on me, and it made me sick. But in the end, I always fought through the effects, never succumbing to their desires. Eventually, I managed to escape. Yet, in those moments, I felt completely powerless. I vowed to never let anyone touch me again, always maintaining control.

But then, Erin, I met you. Your touch has the power to make those haunting memories fade away. I can't even begin to describe the indescribable sensation it brings me. Alphas, in general, are fiercely protective of their mates, but I know I take it to the extreme because you, Erin, are my salvation, just as much as I am yours. I needed you, even though I didn't always realize it. And now that you're here, I know without a doubt that I do.

His words brought a torrent of tears cascading down my cheeks, blurring my vision. "Thank you for opening up to me. It really means a lot," I managed to say through my tears. Leaning forward, a sudden surge of pain engulfed me, causing an involuntary yelp to escape my lips.

In an instant, River's voice boomed with concern, his strong grip on me providing a sense of stability. His gaze locked onto mine, demanding my attention. "I don't feel right," I whispered, my voice trembling. I looked deep into his eyes, hoping to find solace. "Your first shift is starting, Erin. Don't worry, I'm going to help you through this." River promised. As if on cue, another wave of agony crashed over me, intensifying my fear.