The Royal Blood of the Lycan Princess

Chapter 6: The Mark of an Outcast

It's funny, really. The way people can look at you — at me — and see nothing but weakness, a flaw that can never be corrected. I used to think that turning sixteen meant I would finally feel like I belonged in this pack. That the years of training and waiting would culminate in something that made me feel like I was part of something, not just a forgotten shadow lingering on the edge of a family I no longer fit into.

But here I was. Sixteen. And still no shift.

My hands trembled as I sat on the edge of the forest clearing, watching the others. They were all there, gathered around, the pack in full swing. They were running, laughing, practicing their forms, showing off their strength.

I had never joined them.

I didn't even know how.

The shift — the first change, when you become your wolf — was supposed to happen when you reached sixteen, the sign that you were ready to take your place within the pack. It was the mark of adulthood. It was what made you a true member, a part of the pack's heartbeat.

And I was still waiting.

There was nothing wrong with me, I knew that. But no one else saw it that way.

I was just an outcast. And that mark of the outcast wasn't something I could run from. It was the truth, written into my very skin.

"Amelia!" The voice was unmistakable. Iris.

Of course, she had to be the one to come find me. I didn't know what I had done to deserve it, but there she was, walking toward me with that self-satisfied smirk on her face.

"What do you want, Iris?" I asked, my voice colder than I intended. But there was no way I was going to pretend I was anything but exhausted by her.

"Oh, I just thought I'd come and check on the little runt," she said, dragging out the word with mock affection. "Still waiting for your wolf to show up, or has it decided to leave you behind?"

I tried to ignore her, tried to push the words out of my mind, but they cut through me like a blade. It wasn't the first time I'd heard it, but it didn't make it any easier. The words had a way of sinking deep into my soul, like tiny needles piercing through my defenses.

"I told you, leave me alone, Iris," I said again, standing up and brushing dirt from my pants.

I could feel her eyes on me as I moved, her gaze harsh and unforgiving. "You know, I don't know why the pack still lets you hang around," she said, her voice full of venom. "You're not even one of us. You haven't shifted. You're just... a girl. A child who will never grow up."

"Shut up," I snapped. "Just... leave me alone."

But she didn't. She stepped closer, her eyes narrowing with amusement. "You think you're just going to sit here in the corner and hope for things to get better? Maybe if you begged the moon goddess, she'd give you your wolf. But then again... what's the point? You'll always be a failure."

I clenched my fists, my heart hammering in my chest. I had to hold it together. I couldn't break in front of her, couldn't show her how much it hurt. But the anger was there, simmering just below the surface.

"I don't need to prove anything to you," I said, my voice shaky but firm. "You don't get to decide what I am."

"Oh, I'm not deciding anything," Iris retorted with a laugh. "You've already done that for yourself." She turned to leave, her back to me as she walked away. "See you around, runt."

The word hung in the air like a foul smell, clinging to the edges of the wind. I stayed rooted to the spot, unwilling to move, unwilling to let her see how deeply her words had cut me. I told myself it didn't matter, that I was stronger than that. But the truth was, I wasn't.

The longer I sat there, the more I realized how isolated I had become. Even Bea, my closest friend, seemed to be drifting away. She didn't say anything, not directly, but I could feel the distance between us widening with every passing day. I wasn't sure if it was because of my lack of shift, or because she could see how I was treated, but the weight of the silence was unbearable. I didn't even know how to fix it.

I sighed and pushed myself up, wiping the dirt from my hands. The pack was growing more and more intolerant of me, and every day that I didn't shift made it harder to find a reason to stay. My heart ached with the constant reminder that I wasn't enough. I wasn't strong enough. Not like them.

"Amelia."

I froze. The voice came from behind me, soft but unmistakable. Levi. I hadn't seen him in days, hadn't spoken to him since our argument. He looked different now — harder, colder.

I turned to face him, my heart skipping a beat.

"Levi," I said, trying to sound casual, but the pain of his absence in my life made my voice crack. "I didn't expect to see you."

He shrugged, his expression unreadable. He wasn't angry anymore, not at me at least, but he didn't look at me with the same warmth he used to. It was as if I was a stranger to him now, someone he didn't recognize.

"I've been busy," he said simply. "You're... you're still sitting out here?"

I nodded, unable to find anything else to say. There was so much I wanted to tell him, so much I wanted to explain, but the words wouldn't come. They never did when I needed them most.

"You know," Levi said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "They're right, you know."

I looked up at him, my heart sinking. They're right. The words echoed in my mind, cruel and sharp, but it was Levi who said them. My own brother.

"You can't keep running from this forever," he added, his eyes hard but distant. "You need to shift. You need to prove you're one of us."

"I'm trying, Levi," I whispered, my throat tight. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I wish... I wish I could fix it."

He said nothing for a long time, just stared at me, like he was studying me. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know you're trying. But that's not enough, Amelia."

His words hit me like a blow. I could feel the sting of them deep in my chest, the rawness of the truth that I hadn't wanted to admit.

"You don't get it," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I am trying. But I'm not like them. I don't know why. I just... can't shift."

Levi looked at me for a long moment, and I could see the faintest flicker of something in his eyes — a flash of sympathy, maybe, or maybe just the last remnants of the brother I had once known. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"You should have been ready," he said, his voice cold again. "You should have been ready by now, Amelia."

And just like that, the distance between us grew even wider.

---

I walked away, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on me. I didn't know how much longer I could take this. The isolation. The ridicule. The constant reminder that I was failing in the one way that mattered.

I couldn't keep living like this.

But I didn't know how to stop.