Lycan 28 (Patreon)
Content
Author's note: Hello loverrsss,🫶🏻💕 I hope you are all doing well. Here is a new chapter of Lycan. DON'T SKIP THIS ONE. It's worth it!
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The air in the car was thick with tension as Harry and Y/N drove back to Shadow Pack. Y/N stared out the window, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her mind racing. The day’s revelations had left her frustrated and overwhelmed. She couldn’t believe that she was—so close to Evelyn—and yet still miles away from the truth she desperately wanted.
Harry glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his jaw clenched. He could sense her anger even without their bond; it radiated off her like a palpable force. He stayed silent, hoping the drive would give her time to cool down, but as they pulled into the pack house driveway, it was clear that wasn’t happening.
As soon as the car stopped, Y/N shoved the door open and stepped out, slamming it behind her. Harry sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair before following her inside. She marched toward their shared room without a word, and he trailed after her, knowing this wasn’t over.
When they entered the room, Y/N grabbed her jacket and slipped it on. “I’m going out,” she said curtly, not even looking at him.
Harry frowned, his protective instincts flaring. “Out? Where?”
“For a walk,” she snapped, her voice tight with irritation. “I need some air.”
“Not alone,” Harry said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you’re going out, you’re taking Niall with you.”
Y/N froze, turning to face him with an incredulous look. “Excuse me? I’m not a child. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“It’s not about that,” he replied, his tone calm but authoritative. “It’s about keeping you safe. You know the situation we’re in. With everything going on—the rogue, your dad, the threats. Do I need to keep going?”
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Unbelievable. You’re going to stand there and dictate what I can and can’t do now? I just need some space. I don’t need Niall, or anyone else, trailing after me.”
“It’s not up for debate,” Harry said, his voice hardening. “If something happens to you—if someone tries to hurt you—I wouldn’t forgive myself.”
Y/N’s eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t trust me to take care of myself? You think I’m some helpless damsel?”
“That’s not what I said,” Harry countered, his wolf stirring under his skin at the rising tension. “But you’re not invincible. You are human. And whatever is out there is violent. I’m just trying to protect you.”
She stepped closer to him, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me, or control me? Because right now, it feels like the latter.”
Harry’s jaw tightened, his green eyes locking onto hers. “You’re being reckless.”
“And you’re being overbearing,” she shot back.
They stood there, both breathing heavily, the intensity of their emotions filling the room. Finally, Y/N turned on her heel and stormed toward the door.
“Fine,” she said sharply. “If you won’t let me go alone, then I just won’t go at all. Happy?”
“Y/N—”
“No, Harry!” she interrupted, spinning back around to face him. Her voice wavered slightly, the anger giving way to the hurt underneath. “I feel like I’m suffocating. I can’t talk to Evelyn, I can’t get answers, and now I can’t even clear my head without someone watching my every move.”
Harry’s expression softened slightly, but she didn’t give him a chance to respond. She threw her jacket onto the bed and crossed her arms, her back to him as she stared out the window.
For a moment, the room was silent, the tension crackling between them like a live wire. Harry took a cautious step toward her, his voice gentler now. “I’m not trying to control you, Y/N. I just… I can’t lose you.”
She didn’t turn around, but her shoulders sagged slightly at his words. “I’m not trying to push you away, Harry. I just need to feel like I have a say in my own life.”
He hesitated for a moment, then placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. “Then let’s figure this out together. But I’m begging you, don’t shut me out.”
She turned to face him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I’m not shutting you out. I’m just scared.”
Harry pulled her into his arms without another word, holding her tightly as if he could shield her from everything threatening their world. Y/N sank into the embrace, her anger fading into exhaustion as she let herself feel the safety of his presence.
“I’m not going far. Just to the edge of the forest, where I can think. I need to figure out how to process all of this, Harry. Evelyn, my dad, my alleged aunt—it’s too much.”
Harry sighed, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “Then let me come with you.”
She shook her head. “No. You’ll try to fix it, and I don’t need fixing. I just need to be alone for a little while.”
His gaze searched hers, reluctant but understanding. “Fine. Fifteen minutes, Y/N. If you’re not back by then, I’ll come find you.”
Y/N nodded and turned on her heel, striding toward the door. “Fifteen minutes,” she called over her shoulder, leaving Harry standing in the doorway, torn between respecting her wishes and the primal need to protect her at all costs.
Y/N stepped out into the cool night air, the tension from her argument with Harry still coiling tightly in her chest. The forest edge was quiet, the faint rustle of leaves carried by the wind. She inhaled deeply, the crisp scent of earth and pine doing little to calm the storm inside her.
She walked just far enough to where the pack house lights dimmed, leaving her in the comforting semi-darkness of the woods' boundary. The moon cast silvery beams through the trees, giving the landscape an otherworldly glow. Finding a fallen log, she sat down, resting her head in her hands as her thoughts raced.
What am I even supposed to do with all of this? she thought, her chest tightening.
The sound of shifting leaves pulled her from her reverie. Her head snapped up, and her eyes scanned the treeline, heart pounding. The forest was still again, the wind a ghostly hush through the branches.
But then she felt it—someone’s eyes on her.
Her breath hitched as an eerie stillness settled over the clearing. Goosebumps prickled along her arms, and a shiver ran down her spine. She slowly turned her head, her gaze darting through the shadows. Nothing moved, but the weight of a presence pressed against her senses.
Her wolf—absent as always—didn’t stir. No growl or instinctual warning. Just silence.
“Hello?” she called, her voice steady despite the growing unease.
No response.
The rustling returned, louder this time, closer. Y/N shot to her feet, her pulse thundering in her ears. Her eyes darted to the pack house, but it was too far away to feel comforting.
“Who’s there?” she demanded, taking a step back toward the light. Her voice wavered slightly, betraying the fear creeping into her chest.
From the shadows, she swore she saw a figure move. A faint glint of eyes reflecting the moonlight. It was brief, but enough to make her blood run cold.
Her body screamed at her to run, but she couldn’t. She stood frozen, every nerve on edge. The stillness stretched unbearably until—
A low growl broke the silence, deep and guttural, sending a chill down her spine.
This time, she bolted.
Y/N ran through the woods, her heart pounding like a war drum as fear surged through her veins. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, and she didn’t dare look back. The sound of her boots crunching against the forest floor was drowned out by the low growl still echoing in her ears.
Bursting into the clearing, the sight of the pack house lit up like a beacon filled her with desperate relief. She sprinted across the yard, her legs shaking, her skin clammy with cold sweat. Her mind screamed safety, safety, Harry.
She shoved the heavy door open with more force than she intended, startling a few pack members loitering in the hallway. Without stopping to acknowledge their curious stares, Y/N stumbled inside, her shaking hands gripping the doorframe as she steadied herself.
“Harry!” she yelled, her voice cracking with urgency. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. “Harry! Where are you?”
Ignoring the confused murmurs around her, she made a beeline for his office. Her trembling hands fumbled with the door handle before she threw it open, barging inside without a second thought.
Harry was sitting at the head of the table, his face etched with concentration as he listened to Niall and Axel. The room was packed with men, the air heavy with the scent of their presence and the intensity of their meeting. Every head turned to her as she stormed in, but Y/N’s wide, terrified eyes were locked on Harry.
“What’s going on?” Harry demanded, standing up instantly. His brows furrowed in concern as he took in her disheveled appearance—the sweat slicking her forehead, the redness in her cheeks, the tremble in her hands.
“I-I saw him,” Y/N stammered, her voice shaking. Her wide eyes darted around the room as if expecting something or someone to burst through the door behind her. “In the woods. I swear, he was there—watching me.”
Harry’s expression hardened, his wolf rising to the surface at her words. “Who?” he asked sharply, crossing the room to her in three long strides.
“The rogue,” she choked out, clutching at Harry’s arm for stability. Her voice dropped to a whisper as though saying it aloud would summon him. “I felt his eyes on me. He was there—I saw him.”
The tension in the room skyrocketed. Niall and Axel exchanged grim looks, and the other men leaned forward, their muscles coiling in preparation for action.
Harry wrapped an arm around her, his hold both protective and grounding. “What exactly did you see?” he asked, his voice low and steady, though his eyes burned with barely contained fury.
Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to focus on his calm presence. “I—I saw his eyes. In the shadows. And there was this growl—low, deep. It wasn’t a wolf I recognized. It felt... wrong.”
“Where?” Niall asked sharply, already halfway out of his chair.
“By the edge of the woods, near the clearing,” Y/N said, her voice trembling. “I don’t know if he followed me—”
“He wouldn’t dare,” Harry growled, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “Not this close to the pack house.”
Axel stood, his stance rigid. “We’ll organize a patrol immediately. No one goes alone. We’ll find him.”
Harry cupped Y/N’s face, his thumbs brushing over her damp cheeks. “You’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice softer but no less commanding. “Stay here. I’ll handle this.”
“I—”
“No arguing, Y/N.” His tone brooked no discussion. “You’re not stepping foot outside until I say it’s safe.”
The room erupted into action, but Harry stayed with her for a moment longer, his eyes locking onto hers, promising her safety with every ounce of his being.
Harry stormed out of the pack house, his steps purposeful and heavy. Fury burned in his chest, but it wasn’t just anger—it was fear. The thought of Y/N out there, alone, with a rogue lurking in the shadows made his wolf claw at the surface, demanding to be unleashed. He could barely breathe at the idea of what could have happened.
Harry's jaw tightened as Zion's voice rumbled in his mind. "We should never let her out of sight," Zion growled, his tone sharp with frustration. The wolf's anger mirrored Harry’s own, the edges of his emotions raw and blistering.
“I know,” Harry snapped aloud, his voice low but seething, as though speaking to himself. The weight of Zion’s words felt crushing. Every scenario played through his mind—what could have happened if Y/N had been caught. If she’d been…
No, Zion interrupted his spiraling thoughts. You have to focus. If she's scared, he's close. You need to protect her.
Harry walked briskly toward the clearing where Niall and Axel were already combing through the area. The air was heavy, saturated with the damp scent of earth and trees. Shadows lingered, making every movement feel more ominous. His wolf was pacing within, clawing at the edges of his control, demanding action.
Axel glanced up as Harry approached, his expression grim. "There’s something fresh here," Axel said, gesturing toward a faint but distinctive set of tracks in the dirt. "They’re recent—less than an hour old."
Harry crouched, his sharp eyes studying the tracks. "He was here," he murmured. The realization hit him like a punch. Zion’s growl echoed in his head again. "She was right to be scared. He’s stalking her now. This is personal."
Harry’s fists clenched. He’d failed once tonight by letting Y/N out alone. He wouldn’t let it happen again.
Harry straightened, his voice sharp as he addressed the men around him. “Spread out. Search every inch of these woods. I don’t care if it takes all night—leave no stone unturned. I want him found!”
The command rippled through the air, his tone leaving no room for argument. The men nodded, shifting quickly into action, some darting off into the trees while others continued scanning the ground.
"Let me take over," Zion’s voice growled in Harry’s mind, insistent and primal. "You know I can sense him better than you can like this. Let me hunt. Let me find him before it’s too late."
“No,” Harry bit out aloud, his jaw tightening as his eyes scanned the ground. “I’m not losing control. Not now.”
"Stubborn as ever," Zion retorted, his tone laced with frustration. "But if he’s watching her, watching us, you can’t afford hesitation. You know this is bigger than you, Harry."
Gritting his teeth, Harry pushed Zion’s voice to the back of his mind, his resolve unyielding. He moved through the dense underbrush, each step deliberate. Shadows stretched across the forest floor as the sun began to sink, casting an eerie gloom over the area. The rustling of leaves and distant calls of his men were the only sounds, amplifying the tension with every passing moment.
“Anything?” Niall’s voice crackled through the link, his tone clipped.
“Not yet,” Harry replied, his voice tight. “Keep looking.”
Just as he was about to move on, his foot slid slightly on the forest floor. Harry glanced down, and his breath caught. A few droplets of blood dotted the toe of his shoe. Kneeling, he touched the damp earth nearby, smearing a faint streak of red between his fingers.
“Blood,” he muttered, his voice a low growl. His wolf surged forward in his mind, a snarl rumbling through his chest.
"He's injured—or someone is. This is the trail, Harry. Don’t ignore it."
Harry’s eyes sharpened as he stood, his senses sharpening. He motioned to Niall and Axel, who had moved closer. “We’ve got something. Blood. Follow the trail.”
Without another word, they advanced into the thickening darkness, the tension palpable as they moved deeper into the woods.
The stench hit Harry before he even saw the scene. A metallic tang mixed with decay filled the air, and his stomach tightened. The forest opened into a small clearing, bathed in faint moonlight, and there it was—the grim display. Blood coated the ground in thick, viscous pools, soaking the earth beneath a grotesque sight.
Suspended in the center of the clearing, a man’s body hung limply, his limbs contorted unnaturally. Deep gashes ran across his chest and arms, his shirt shredded and stained with crimson. His face was almost unrecognizable—bruised, swollen, and caked in dried blood. His lifeless eyes stared blankly into the void, and his head lolled to the side, as if abandoned by all dignity in death.
“Bloody hell,” Axel muttered under his breath, stepping back instinctively.
Harry’s jaw tightened as he approached, every step deliberate. The closer he got, the more brutal the scene became. The man’s torso was carved with marks that looked deliberate, almost ritualistic—slashes forming jagged patterns that crisscrossed his skin. One hand was twisted unnaturally behind his back, broken at an angle that made Harry wince.
As Harry inhaled, his wolf stirred uneasily. Zion growled low in his mind, his voice heavy with anger and recognition. "Harry... it’s him."
“Who?” Harry asked aloud, though the dread creeping up his spine already hinted at the answer. He stepped closer, and that’s when it hit him—a faint scent, buried beneath the stench of blood and death. It was familiar, yet tainted by something unclean.
"It’s Y/N’s father," Zion said, the certainty in his voice undeniable. "The scent—it’s faint, but it’s hers. I can smell the connection."
Harry froze, his stomach twisting. His eyes scanned the lifeless figure again, trying to piece together what remained of the man who had eluded them. His features were warped beyond recognition, his body battered and displayed like a cruel warning to anyone who dared to venture into this territory.
“Are you sure?” Niall asked cautiously, his voice thick with disbelief as he joined Harry. He had picked up on the scent as well, his nose wrinkling as he crouched to examine the ground. “It’s faint, but... yeah, it’s there. Same lineage.”
Harry’s hands curled into fists, his claws threatening to break through as his wolf snarled inside him. This wasn’t just a murder—it was a message. And whoever had done this had known exactly what they were doing.
“We need to take him down,” Harry said, his voice low and simmering with rage. “Carefully. Don’t disturb the scene too much—we’ll need Michaela to examine the body.”
His men nodded, stepping forward to untangle the grotesque setup. Harry took a step back, running a hand through his hair as his wolf raged in his mind. Zion’s voice was colder now, angrier. "They did this to make her suffer, Harry. They knew we’d find him. They wanted her to see this."
“I know,” Harry growled under his breath, his voice barely audible. “And whoever ‘they’ are... they’re going to regret it.”