Lycan Bloodline Part 05 Lycan Bloodline
Chapter 05
By: CJZ♂ email: lycanpureblood@hotmail.com
The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author.
This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred is purely coincidental. Moreover, none of the actions of the characters in this story are meant to condone, approve, or sanction their behaviour.
My most sincere thanks to all of the readers that have written me in regards to the story.
I appreciate your feedback and sentiments which have provided much inspiration, encouragement and support.
All comments are welcome and if you wish to contact me, please feel free to email me at lycanpureblood@hotmail.com
My other novels in progress can be found under the following categories...
Science Fiction/Fantasy
Afterlife
And a great, big thank-you to Matt for all his patience and assistance.
Castle Skye Loch Aberdeen, Scotland Ancestral home of the Mackenzie Clan
Outside the ancient, yet strong and impenetrable castle walls, a storm of great magnitude was slowly brewing.
Even the sentinels standing guard outside the castle were getting concerned, they sensed and felt that this storm was abnormal and unnatural.
A storm of this significance, fury and intensity had not been seen on this land for quite a few hundred years.
As the heavy rain, thunder and gusting winds started to pick up, most if not all at Court would speak of this day as the moment when the Omen descended upon the Lycan Realm.
The Grand Duke and his Ministers were impervious to what was happening outside the great fortress.
Even as the Court climatologists and astrologists tried to seek an audience with the Duke, they were simply laughed at and turned away by the Grand Duke's Private Secretary.
And as the Secretary so kindly put it, "His Grace was way too busy dealing with matters of the Realm, to listen to the ramblings of the so-called 'men of science.'"
Lately though, the Duke had not been his usual self and it seems that the last couple of weeks, he's been more ill-tempered and irate than usual.
To make things even worse for the Ministers, the only person who could get the Duke out of this vile and abominable mood had been banished from Court herself, and that had never happened.
If there was a fallout (and there's been many) between the Grand Duke and his favourite and only granddaughter, it would last a few days at most. Soon, she would be back in his arms, adorned with new jewels and parading around in new clothes, and they would both act like nothing had ever happened, but she had never been banished from Court.
To be banished from Court life is the most degrading or biggest misfortune that could occur to a courtier. It seems that now everyone is fair game to the wrath of the Grand Duke.
After all, if his own flesh and blood is not safe, then who is?
Now everyone at Court seem to be tip toeing, or staying clear of the Grand Duke. They all fear getting a verbal lashing or worse, go the way of his granddaughter.
And here's a helpful piece of advice...
If you want to be kept in the loop of things, or seek advancement at Court, then you better learn your place and be ready and willing to kiss ass.
But the most important rule to learn is...
To stay away when the tide is against you.
There was a soft knock on the Great Chamber Door that led into the Throne room and everyone's eyes turned to it.
The Private Secretary entered the Throne room, bowed his head and with a trembling in his voice, softly announced.
"I'm sorry to interrupt your, Grace. But, there's someone here to see you and she insists that it's a matter of urgency."
The Grand Duke's grey-blue eyes, twinkled with anger and he was about to explode when the Private Secretary quickly blurted out.
"It's the Marquise de Wolfsbane, who seeks an audience with your Grace."
The whole room which just a few seconds ago had been buzzing with important matters, was now silent and all eyes turned to the Grand Duke.
"Well, don't just stand there like a bump on a log, you idiot! Let her in!"
Rayn Félicité Amaranth de Wolfsbane, or the Marquise de Wolfsbane as she was better known at Court, is a woman who's admired by few, feared by many, yet loathed by almost everyone.
It was said that when the Marquise was first presented at Court, everyone held their breath...including the Grand Duke. She dazzled everyone at Court when she made her grand entrance. Everyone wanted to know who was, this voluptuous and captivating french beauty.
However, little did they know that one day this blooming beauty would turn the whole Court upside down.
With a classical face, vivacious and sparkling emerald green eyes, ruby red lips and long raven black hair, she was a sight to behold.
A brilliant complexion to match and an amazing hour-glass figure, she seduced by sight alone. To memory, there's only been three truly beautiful, alluring and captivating women at the Lycan Court.
The first of course, being the Grand Duchess Enya, second the Marquise de Wolfsbane, and now the banished "favourite", the granddaughter Lady Ione Skye.
Even though the Marquise de Wolfsbane has had a long history at the Lycan Court, she didn't easily embrace the dark, dreary and bland Court life of Scotland. She had after all been raised alongside the Royal family of France, and had been brought up in the most magnificent and opulance palace in the world, Versailles. However, nothing good ever truly lasts and she, along with her mother managed to escape to Scotland at the height of the Reign of Terror. Her father the Scottish embassador of the Lycan Realm, her husband a french military attaché and younger sister, Charlotte Marie were not so lucky.
All three were caught by a drunken mob, just outside the suburbs of Paris in the small town of Marly-le-Roi.
The mob, thirsty for aristocratic blood butchered her father and husband, and raped her sister. And after these barbaric atrocities were commited, their bodies were dragged through the streets towards the center of town, only to end up at the guillotine.
A close aquantaince to the family said that once the Marquise had heard of the news.
She broke down in sobs and tears, and screamed at the top of her lungs..."May the Goddess heed my prayers, for I will avenge their deaths!"
Soon after the death of her family, the citizens of Marly-le-Roi saw complete darkness engulf their picturesque, yet riot torn town. A violent lighting storm like none had ever seen caused a fire in the center of town. Soon enough all the homes were engulfed by flames and everything around fell like dominos.
There were many deaths that night and the unlucky few that scaped the inferno, ended up homeless.
With no food, shelter and only the clothing on their backs the worse was far from over.
The coming winter would be the the harshest winter on record and those that survived the fire, ended up frozen and starving during the winter.
Those responsable for carrying out the murders of her family ended up on the guillotine themselves, along with their families and friends.
The Marquise never laughed or smiled after that day...
Soon, after these misfortunes, many stayed away from the young, beautiful and recently widowed Marquise.
For a rumour began to spread like wildfire across the Lycan Court...
A rumour that she was a witch, and not just any witch.
Through her veins ran Valmont blood, one of the oldest and most feared witch Covens in all of Europe...
When the Marquise entered the Great Chamber, she politely curtisied the Grand Duke and quickly scanned the room from floor to ceeling.
The Grand Duke almost ran to her arms, but paused once he saw that his Ministers were all looking at him.
The Marquise sneezed as she was drenched from head to toe.
"My beautiful Marquise, you're all wet!"
The Grand Duke snapped his fingers for a servant to approach.
"Get the Marquise a towel to dry off!"
The Marquise lifted her porcelain like hands in the air.
"Please, don't bother..."
She then brought her hands slowly down along the contours of her body and was instantly dry.
The Ministers were all eyeing each other, and one could barely catch a softly murmur...witch!
The Grand Duke's eyes and mind were focused only on the Marquise, as he gave her a polite bow.
She in turn gave the Grand Duke a very low curtsey.
"My dearest Marquise, how was your trip?"
The Marquise looked serious and sighed heavily.
"Cold, miserable and wet. Very much like your castle, I'm afraid."
The Grand Duke smiled at her insult and snickered.
He took her right hand and guided her to the dining table in the middle of the room. An elaborate assortment of dishes consisting of meats, fish, fruits, pastries and jewel encrusted, globlets of wine were neatly and richly displayed on the immense table.
"Would you care for something to eat, my dear?"
The Marquise shook her head and politely declined.
"No, thank you. I'm not hungry, I'm actually here for other matters."
The Grand Duke slowly walked over to the table.
"Really? Tell me my dear, what would make you leave your Palace of Brightmoon?"
All night he had been eyeing the giant turkey that was neatly and carefully displayed on a platter.
He yanked the turkey leg and was about to take a bite, when the Marquise tapped him lightly on the shoulder.
"Have you had that tested?"
The Grand Duke raised his eyebrows and gave her a curious look.
"No, but all this food has been in my sight all evening. Besides my dear at my age, I don't mind death."
The Marquise gave the Grand Duke a sour and very displeased look.
She walked over to a painting on the wall that was commissioned sometime after the Great Lycan Wars.
In the painting, the Grand Duke looked handsome, youthful and very muscular. He looked truly splendid and regal in his golden armour and clan colours.
In his right hand, he held the magnificent sword Tórnach while pointing it towards the sky.
A magnificent rainbow and brightness shone over castle Skye in the background.
"You shouldn't joke about such things, your Grace. After all, who will look after the Realm when you're gone?"
The Marquise couldn't take her eyes off the handsome man in the painting.
"Your son? He's been missing for centuries and presumed dead.
Your grandson? He abandoned his post a long time ago and has no interest in matters of the Realm or taking the Crown.
Your granddaughter? She hungers power and above anything else, total control. The epitome of a tyrant...
Her son? he's an insane, unstable and dangerous lunatic. And last I heard, you had him locked up at Acheron tower, a lost soul and therefore...unfit to rule. So,...
That just leaves your, great-great-grandson,...Bryce."
The Grand Duke slammed his fist hard on the table.
Glass goblets and food splattered all over the clean and highly polished floor.
"Is that why you're here? Is that the only damm reason you're here?"
The Marquise turned around and saw the Duke's eyes give off a dangerous glow.
But, she didn't care...
"Yes, that is precisely the only reason why, I'm here. Someone or something is blocking my telepathy."
The Grand Duke furrowed his brow and his facial expression changed immediately to a more concerned and anxious look.
"Is he in danger, Rayn?"
Rayn...
When was the last time he had called her by her first name? It seemed like an eternity ago...
She quickly averted his gaze, as she felt a tear trickle down her cheek.
The Marquise had barely turned twenty years old, when she was first introduced to the Grand Duke. And it was on that first meeting that sparks instantly ignated fiercely between them. But, the timing couldn't come at the worst possible time, for the Marquise had recently suffered the devastating loss of her father, sister and much loved husband.
And after the horrors of the French Revolution and the bleak years that followed, the Marquise grew distant, cold and especially angry with the Human race.
Yet, it was the Grand Duke that would slowly pull her out of the dark abyss and slowly turn her life around.
In doing so, the Marquise would eventually and greatfully do the same for him.
It was in those first years that the Grand Duke saw something in the Marquise that was missing in his own life...youth, sincerity and hope.
And as the years went by, the Grand Duke and the Marquise bonded and started their friendship and eventually relationship.
During those first years, the Marquise learned that the Grand Duchess no longer shared the Duke's bed.
The Grand Duchess, had done her Royal duty and had bore the Grand Duke two healthy sons.
One son would be the future heir to the throne, who would unfortunately die in the battlefield during the Great Lycan Wars. The second son (the spare) would inherit the Crown, and father a much anticipated son, and to a lesser degree a daughter and thus continue the Mackenzie Royal bloodline.It was the norm in those times for the noble men with Royal blood to have many mistresses.
Even if these "happily" married men loved their wives, to have a mistress, especially a beautiful and younger one was a special "status". However, the Grand Duke still had feelings for his beloved wife, and out of respect he had never taken a mistress.
But, now that his feelings were getting stronger for the Marquise, those feelings were about to change.
And so, the Marquise de Wolfsbane become the only "Official Chief Mistress" to the Grand Duke.
This was a very coveted title and with it came great honour at Court. Not, only because you were the lover of a Royal prince, but with the title also came power, and with power...came incredible wealth, recognition and prestige.
If you ever needed a favour or wanted your case personally heard by the Grand Duke, you'd only have to approach the Royal Mistress and the rest was up to you.
In the end you dared not fall out of grace from the Marquise or worse become, an enemy.
The Marquise ruled as the undisputed Royal Mistress and held considerable power at her command.
And as the Royal Mistress to a man in power, she felt that it was her business to become embroiled in the world of politics, finance and matters of the Realm.
But, the young and widowed Marquise never really enjoyed her famous, or infamous post (however you might see it).
For although she loved the Grand Duke with all of her heart and soul, she always knew that she could never truly have him or even marry him.
Being recently widowed and labeled a witch didn't help matters, and by now all of Court whispered that she was the Grand Duke's whore.
In those times women had little or no say in the matter, but the Grand Duke at least had the courtesy to ask her if she wanted to be his concubine.
The Marquise however was unsure and reluctant at first to choose this path, for she remembered her upbring at the Royal Court of Versailles.
She remembered how Madame du Barry the (Maȋtresse-en-Titre), or Official Chief Mistress to the King Louis XV was treated.
The beautiful Madame du Barry was hated, loathed, and treated with so much contempt that the King's children tried many times in vain to banish the "King's whore" from Versailles.
But, she also remembered the immense power Madame du Barry yielded at Court, and how many courtiers flocked to her to seek advancement or for favours.
However, all the beauty, power, prestige and wealth meant nothing when Madame du Barry couldn't talk or barter her way out of the French Revolution.
In the end, she was accused of treason, condemned to death and then beheaded by the guillotine. So, after careful consideration and pondering, the Marquise agreed.
The Marquise became the mistress and she did it for love...her first mistake.
But, she was after all, young, trusting and naive three characteristics that would eventually be her downfall.
When she agreed to be the Official Chief Mistress, she decidedly to establish a cordial relationship with the Grand Duchess Enya. The Marquise realized that showing respect for the Grand Duchess eased the Grand Duke's guilt, and allowed him to have a strong relationship with his children and of course, her.
The Marquise also put all of her effort in bringing fun into the melancholy life of the Grand Duke. Unlike his wife, the Marquise accompanied him while hunting, playing cards, touring properties, meetings with clan members of the Lycan Realm and even threw elaborate dinner parties for him, and also put on plays that exalted the Grand Duke.
They had at least one hundred years of happiness, many years of beautiful memories and much needed happiness. But, when the Grand Duchess passed away, the Grand Duke's attitude changed.
The Grand Duke became emotionally distant and he made it very clear to the Marquise that even though he was free to marry, he couldn't see himself take another wife.
Especially since the Marquise was a non-lycan and of course, his mistress.
That broke the Marquise's heart and by this time the Grand Duke's eye's had also begun to wonder...
A young Scottish beauty surfaced at the Lycan Court.
A pretty, blonde and voluptuous maiden by the name of Calyn Primrose of the Clan Silvermist, or as she was formally addressed at Court, Lady Silvermist.
Her father cam from a poorish and fairly young clan and the man was desperate and eager to seek advancement in the Lycan Realm, and at Court.
And so, he practically threw his daughter at the foot of the bed of the Grand Duke and he of course, welcomed her.
The Duke forgot one important piece of advice from his Council...
"Don't ever underestimate a woman. Especially a woman that has been your mistress for a century and now senses that she's going to be replaced. Be cautious, for she comes from a powerful witch Coven, and who knows what she'll do for revenge."
The Marquise however took the highroad and before the Grand Duke could initial the breakoff, she beat him to the punch.
After spending a century in the bleak and dreary land of Scotland, the Marquise decided to return to France. It was now safe to return to her ancestral home, and she wanted to restore her father's Palace of Brightmoon in Calais to it's former glory.
The Grand Duke was shocked to hear the news and also caught off guard, but nonetheless this decision would work on his favour.
The Marquise was leaving on her terms and in a friendly manner, and now he was also free to chose a new replacement for the title of "Official Chief Mistress".
The Marquise sailed off to France with her mother at the dawn of a new century, to start a new life and new beginning.
To this day, she has never looked back on her decision for she knew it was the right one.
She was free to take with her all the jewels, furniture, gifts and clothing that the Grand Duke had showered her over the century, and she was given the hefty sum of fifteen million pounds a year.
This pension was to be paid to the Marquise for the rest of her life, as a token of her "loyalty, gratitude and love" for the Grand Duke.
The Marquise passed on accepting the money, but she thanked the Grand Duke for his "consideration for her well-being".
She didn't need to be paid off like a common whore, she was better than that. And she certainly didn't need any money, for her father had been a very smart and extremely wealthy business man, who had left the Marquise and her mother enough money to live confortably for many, many, many centuries.
The Marquise did keep all her many, many, splendid collection of jewels that the Duke had showered on her for so many years, as well as her clothing and furniture.
Money, she didn't care for, but her vast collection of jewels, well that is another matter, her mother didn't raise a fool.
The Marquise didn't hold any grudges to the Grand Duke, or for all the others that made her life a living hell, while at the Lycan Court.
She left an incredible legacy at Castle Skye in her one hundred year rule and her reputation for elegance, beauty, charisma and knowledge will not go unsurpassed.
The love she had for art, music, architecture and great sense in fashion can still be seen in the palace to this day.
She would always love the Grand Duke, and he would always have a place in her heart. But, perhaps now that their "arrangement" was over they could still salvage a friendship.
After all, as the saying goes..."Distance makes the heart grow fonder."
She left many good friends behind, and those close enough to the Grand Duke will always remind the Marquise that in the end,...she won.
For the Grand Duke to this day laments, "I let her get away! A wonderful, caring and loving woman,...I let her get away!"
The Marquise gets to keep that, and she knows that the Grand Duke will always carry a torch for her.
"Rayn?"
The Marquise snapped out of her daze."Rayn, is Bryce in danger?"
The Marquise turned to face the Duke, who's face was full of anguish and pure panic.
"I don't know, your Grace. I can't be sure..."
The Grand Duke looked around the room and yelled out...
"EVERYONE, GET THE FUCK OUT!"
His poor ministers all rushed for the door, many dropping papers on the floor and almost trampled each other trying to get out.
The Grand Duke approached the Marquise and gently took her right hand.
"We're alone, Rayn. What do you know?"
The Marquise looked around the room and smiled.
"Walk with me, your Grace. Let's talk in the balcony."
The Grand Duke furrowed his brow and looked towards the balcony. Outside the height of the storm was pummeling the castle.
"But, it's pouring outside. Why, can't you tell me in here?"
The Marquise looked around the room and angrily fixed her gaze at an ancient tapestry hanging on the east wall.
"Because, your Grace even stone walls have ears..."
The Grand Duke looked at the direction of the tapestry and then curiously at the Marquise.
The Marquise was murming something barely audible, and whatever it was it was in latin.
The Marquise took the Grand Duke's hand and led him to the balcony, and as they walked away the Grand Duke stopped for a second as he heard a loud and agonizing, female scream coming from within the walls.
"What the hell was that?"
The marquise simply smiled and said.
"A fly on the wall..."
Mackenzie Compound Silver Lake, British Columbia CANADA I dreamt...
I dreamt and found myself standing on top of a hill and looking down a large field.
This place wherever I was, was bleak and depressing.
The entire sorroundings was dark and grey. But, I was mesmerized by a beautiful and crystalline lake that sparkled like diamonds in the background.
Suddenly, a cold breeze engulfed me and as I looked up at the sky, I noticed that the sun was slowly trying to peek out of the dark clouds.
When the sun finally made it's apperance, I looked down at the field and realized that it was strewn with corpses. But, some of these bodies were not human.
Bodies of men had been mangled and mutilated, along with those of werewolves and with different, yet strange and beautiful creatures.
I felt sick at the sight and wanted to vomit. I couldn't help, but to feel sick, extremely sad and afraid.
There was just so much death scattered over the field, and as far as my eyes could see.
I felt a tear fall down my cheek and as I wiped it away, another frigid gust of wind sweept throught the field.
In the distant, I could barely make out a giant of a man taking off his golden helmet and then he lifted a sword towards the sky.
Instantly the field was showered with a bright and blinding light.
I immediately felt a surge of warmth engulf me and most importantly, hope.
There was hope,...yet.
But, as my body embraced this much needed warmth, I was startled by an ear piercing and horrific shrieking that could be heard in the distance.
I turned my head towards the direction of the shriek, and...
"Son? Can you hear me?"
I felt a hand gently caressing my forehead.
"His fever has finally gone down, that's a good sign."
I heard a deep, baritone and masculine voice.
"Dad?"
I tried to slowly open my eyes, but my head exploded with an intense and excruciating pain.
"Yes, son...it's me. Just try to relax and listen."
His rough and large calloused hands stroked my cheek.
"The good news is that the fever has gone down. The bad news is that the worst is not over, yet."
Not, over yet? Is he kidding me?
"Fuck! My head hurts..."
I felt someone sit on the edge of the bed.
"Try not to open your eyes, Bryce. They're sensitive to light at the moment, just relax and let your body slowly heal you."
Close my eyes? I wanted to do the opposite, but my head felt like it was on a vise.
"How are you feeling?"
It was my dad's voice again...
"Well, aside from the pounding headache, I'm fine."
I opened my eyes just a bit and I could see my father smiling at me. As I looked around the room, I saw Father Callahan sitting quietly on a chair and it looked like he was taking notes.
"Well, the headache should pass soon. It's all part of shifting..."
Shifting?
"You mean shifting into a fucking werewolf?"
My dad frowned at the remark, stood up with crossed arms.
"Son, I know this is a lot to digest, and even understand for someone that wasn't raised or born into our culture and customs."
I rolled my eyes and sat up on the bed.
*Sigh...This was all so fucking irritating!
"It won't be easy or painless, Bryce. But, I promise you that I'll be with you and help you throught all of this."
Ha! I rolled my eyes...
"Oh, I see. So, this time you'll be there for me? Well, that's mighty big of you, dad..."
I knew that I shouldn't be talking to my father in this manner, but I was beyond furious.
"Son, you probably have every right to be angry with me. To be angry at everything and everyone. But, one thing that I want to make clear to you, is that I do not tolerate profanity. So, watch your language."
*Sigh...
I hated him so much!
My dad had a warm mug in his hands and gently handed it to me.
"Here, be careful. Drink it slowly, it's scalding hot, but at least it should ease your physical pain."
I took the mug and the smell it gave off was terrible.
"Good God! what's in it? It stinks!"
Father Callahan laughed out loud from his chair.
"Drink it, boy. It may have a nasty and bitter taste, but it will put hair on your chest."
My dad just snickered and winked at me.
The man sitting by the window sure sounded like old Father Callahan. But, he sure didn't act, speak or even look like him.
My dad then placed a cold and wet towel on my forehead.
"In time you'll learn..."
I sat up on the bed and yanked the towel from his hands.
"Yes, yes...in time. I already know what you're going to say! That I'll learn to adapt and master this wonderful new gift that I've inherited,...thanks to you!"
Fuck!
"Bryce, I know that you're upset and confused. I understand..."
I took the towel off my forehead and trew it on the floor.
A surge of anger boiled within me, and I just snapped.
"You keep saying that! God! I don't want to hear it anymore! You keep saying that you understand, but you don't! You really don't!"
I wanted to get out of bed, but when I lifted the covers I realized I was only in my underwear.
"It's like you expect me to feel better when you say that, Dad! Well, it dosen't...it just dosen't!"
My dad sighed, as did I.
Father Callahan stood from his chair and walked towards the window.
"Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain...Exodus 20:7"
Oh for fuck sakes! I can't take this shit anymore!
Father Callahan was looking at me, and I knew where he was going with his statement.
"Don't you, start..."
I felt my blood boil and...
"BRYCE!"
My dad's face changed drastically and he looked angry.
"I don't want to hear it, Father Callahan. Don't bring religion into this..."
Father Callahan turned to face me, yet his face was expressionless.
"I didn't. You did, young man."
I knew that I was talking to Father Callahan, but it was hard to recognize him.
I remember all those days speaking to him while at school, and how he always sounded so genuinely concerned.
Always telling to stick to me studies, to stay away from drugs, bad crowds and premarital sex.
Yet, here he was unrecognizable, in a new, younger form and associating with werewolves. I could still see a bit of the old man in his eyes, but everything else was not him...
I decided to change the subject into a more pressing and urgent matter.
"Has anyone heard from Uilleam?"
My dad turned to face Father Callahan...
"Uill's plane left Turkey at dawn and he's on his way home. He should be here by this evening."
Finally, some good news.
I liked Uill...
I found him...
My dad smiled at me and looked a bit unconfortable.
"Uill wouldn't miss your shifting for anything in the world, son."
Uill had been teaching me to block thoughts before his departure, but I was way off in mastering this new power.
Could my dad be reading my thoughts right now?
I was doing my best at putting up a wall in my mind, just as Uill taught me. And I hope it's working...
But, does my dad really know how I feel about Uill?
"Why, don't you try to get up and take a shower son? Breakfast is waiting for you downstairs and we need to talk about what's going to happen tonight."
I nodded and waited for them to leave.
I was in my underwear and not only did I have to piss badly, but I also had morning wood.
Father Callahan smiled as he walked out of the room.
My dad however, walked over to the window and just stared out.
I coughed and cleared my throat hoping that he would get the idea, but he wouldn't leave.
I would be extremely embarrassed if my dad saw me with a hard-on when I got out of bed.
"I want you to know Bryce, that I love you...no matter what."
Oh, God!
"I know you think I haven't been there for you all these years, but I want you to know that I was...even if you didn't see. No one could keep me from you, and I'd never let anything happen to you."
That's nice dad, but I need to take a piss!
I couldn't take it any longer! I had to dash to the bathroom and pee.
So, I pulled off the sheets and slowly got out of bed. My head was pounding and I felt dizzy, I tried to hold my balance and that's when my dad rushed to help me.
Whatever embarrassment I had, was now gone.
I looked down and my massive, raging hard-on was lewdly tenting through my boxer briefs.
My dad looked at me and simply smiled.
"Happens to all us men, son. It's nothing to be embarrased about, it's a morning ritual."
Oh Lord! This is really embarrassing...
My dad took me into the bathroom and stood by the door.
"You think you'll be fine from here on? Or do you want me to wait in here and help you to get in the shower?"
I nodded my head from side to side and smiled.
"Allright then, I will leave the bedroom door open in case you need help. Call me if you need anything, I'll see you downstairs."
My dad walked out of the bathroon and winked at me as he left.
"Thanks, dad."
Once my dad was out of sight, I rushed to the toilet bowl and pissed like a race horse.
"OHHH...fuck! That, feels sooo good!"
I got in the shower and the scalding hot water felt great on my skin. Even my headache started to slowly disappear and then the dream I had earlier popped into my head.
What could the dream mean?
The more I tried to remember the more details I seemed to forget...
Something about a field...
Dead bodies...
A giant of a man...
Fuck! It's gone!
What the hell was it? Why, can't I remember?
Then Uill's handsome face came into my mind...
At least thinking of him made me feel better,...safer
I felt at ease and happier knowing that he was on his way to see me. Even if, I end up turning into some hideous creature by this evening, Uill will be there.
The more I thought of Uill, the more aroused, I got.
It's been days since I've jacked off, and I'm in need of major release.
I grabbed the body soap...
I'll be honest, I really didn't feel confortable about jacking off in the shower. I mean, my dad could walk in any minute to check up on me, and then I'd die of embarrassment, for sure.
But, I was soo horny...
My dick was demanding attention and my balls were starting to hurt...
I needed to get off!
What Bryce didn't know was that his father could feel and experience everything he was going through.
You see, father and son were deeply connected, bonded actually.
It was a very powerful and strong bond, between father and son.
It was a bond, sealed in blood and connected in a mental, physical and even spiritual level.
Bryce was the first half-blood male, born to a third generation alpha werewolf.
He was born into the oldest, most powerful and wealthy werewolf clan in Lycan history.
Not only did his family ruled and governed the Great Lycan Realm, but they were also admired, respected and well liked by many clans and other magical creatures.
But, when you're in power and very popular, there will always be those that want to bring you down and destroy everything that you've worked so hard for, no matter the cost.
Ryan was concerned and more than a little uneasy about his son being a half-blood.
He didn't know any half-blood lycans that had survived past their teenage years. Most get killed by fanatic, pure-blood lycans that want to maintain an unblemished bloodline.
These crazed puritans see half-bloods as tainted, immoral and tarnished bloodlines that must be cleansed by one way only, death.
This was one of the many arguments that launched the Great Lycan Wars, which in the end turned out to be a disastrous for all, and decimated many of the older lycans clans.
One war in particular lasted one hundred years and claimed the lives of many human, lycan and other magical creatures, like the Faerie. And although Ryan didn't know what the future held for his son, he still hoped for the best and he vowed to be there for his son, no matter what.
Ryan was downstairs pouring cream on his coffee, when he felt it.
The wave was so strong that he dropped the porcelain cream holder that he had in his hands, and it shattered into pieces spilling cream all over the spotless kitchen floor.
Ryan had been caught off guard, but not surprised.
He smiled as he felt another strong wave hit his whole body, it felt like a bolt of lighting.
Ahh, to be young again...
His son was a typical, healthy and oversexed 15 year old, teenage male, hormones on legs, basically...
Bryce was unknowingly sending off waves of sexually charged pheromones to anyone that might be around. And these dangerous chemicals were being emitted by Bryce's potent, sexual energy.
As Bryce emmitted his pheromones in the air, these would disperse and bombard anyone who was around with high levels of sexually charged testosterone.
To any werewolf in the area, this was a mating call.
Between the ages of 13 and 15 years of age, a young male werewolf would be entering his sexual development.
This was a time for lycan youth to experience with sex with other lycans of their age group.
It was normal and customery for young lycans to have frequent and consistent sex.
Sex was sex to a werewolf...
There would be a time when a werewolf would seek a female, if he wanted to procreate.
Otherwise sex with another male, or male and female, or female with another female was quite common, and not at all taboo.
Bryce had discovered the pleasure of masturbation at the age of 12, and practiced the pleasure daily.
Several times, daily...actually.
Like most boys, he loved the high an orgasm gave him and he was highly addicted to it.
At this age, his cock was dominant in his life, and it would spring to life at the drop of a hat demanding attention.
Attention that Bryce delighted to give it, even under the most difficult situations.
Bryce closed his eyes, relaxed and went to work on his erection.
Five minutes that's all he needed...
Five minutes of hand shuffling tighly around his hard cock, while his other hand lightly squeezed and gently pulled on his ballls.
Five minutes of private pleasure which usually culminated in five or six good sized squirts, of freshly produced sperm.
And that wonderful afterglow...
The warmth and tingling sensation that spread throught his body, which was the ultimate aim of the task.
Bryce tightly gripped his rockhard erection and slid his hand up and down it, sliding the skin over the meat beneath.
This was going to be a good one...
He didn't want to come too quickly, but led himself up to peak several times, then slowed down to prolong the pleasure.
He arched his back and let the hot, scalding jet stream of water hit his muscled back. The heat and intensity strained every muscle in his body to heighten the orgasm and the subsequent pleasure.
Downstairs, Ryan was having troubles of his own.
He was now sporting major wood and his balls felt full, bloated and also in need of release.
The sexual animal in him had awaken and it hungered, thirsted and desired uncontrollably, raw sex.
He cursed himself for not making time to talk to his son about how werewolves have an extremely high sex drive, and how lycan sexuality was different than mortals.
Ryan was in a dangerous zone, he felt everything Bryce was doing at the moment and the urge to fuck like an animal was slowly building up inside him.
If it would have been anyone else, but his son...
He would have bolted upstairs and would have fucked the living hell out of the lycan sending off the mating call, male or female.
The urge was that fucking strong...
A male lycan was dangerous when he desired sex and needed release...
He for one wouldn't take no, for an answer.
If you gave off the slightes hint of a mating call, then you better be willing to take it.
But, it was Bryce upstairs...his son
His own flesh and blood. A handsome, young man created in his image and he couldn't do that to the boy...not, yet.
Bryce had to be taught and explained many things before being thrown in this tumultuous, yet passionate ordeal.
After all, Ryan's father had taught him everything he knew about sex, as his father before him and so on.
If Ryan dashed upstairs and interrupted the boy, it might...
No, that would fuck him up for life!
Fuck!
Ryan felt an extreme and primal urge to shift into his lycan form...
His body felt voracious, ravenous, and thirsted for raw, animalistic sex...
Every sensual, yet highly sexually energized ripples Bryce was sending out, was a call for trouble.
Especially for someone like himself, who was so inexperienced and new to all of this...
And trouble was on it's way...
Ryan lived as far as he possibly could, from any human settlements. He had built his cabin in the most remote and almost inaccessible wilderness of British Columbia.
His closest friends/allies, like Nial MacDuff, who was also Bryce's Godfather lived about 10 miles north of Ryan's compound.
Ewen Macleod lived about 10 miles east, Iain de Lyon was 10 miles west, and that left Uilleam McFarlane 10 miles south of Ryan's cabin.
Ryan's compound had been carefully positioned, and was protected by 4 of the strongest, oldest and most powerful lycans in the realm.
These lycans had personally been chosen by Ryan, for they had proven their courage, strength, faith and loyalty to the Mackenzie clan during the Great Lycan Wars.
Ryan knew these men would give their lives to protect him and his family and he also knew that he could always rely on them if trouble ever arose.
Not that Ryan needed it, for he was very well capable in taking care of himself, but he had his mortal ex-wife, and the next Lycan Prince to the house of Mackenzie to think about.
Only once, since arriving in North America had Ryan come close to someone harming his family.
Back when he was still together with his ex-wife and Bryce was just a baby.
Ryan had been attacked by an untraceable pack of lycans. These were fierce and powerful hunters, with one objective...
To find Ryan, his precious family and massacre them all...
These lycan hunters had carefully set out to find Ryan and they had instructions to kill anyone who stood in their path.
They were to kill Ryan and finally bring down the Mackenzie clan to it's knees.
But, they failed...
Fate had destined Bryce to embrace his Lycan bloodline...
There would be always be danger lurking in the shadows...
And there was a Higher Power that had patiently waited for a Lycan bloodline to reach perfection...
A profecy had been told in the stars of a young Lycan Prince that was destined to greatness...
The young Prince's fate was yet, unwritten...
His fate could go either way...
He could go towards the light and follow the path of good, or embrace the beautiful darkness...
Which, would Bryce choose?
All this Higher Power had to do was to wait patiently...
Wait patiently for the young Prince to take the wrong step.
To wait...
Wait...
Wait... Ryan could feel the surge of sexual electricity in every inch of his body.
Bryce's orgasm was ready to explode...
Ryan's keen sense of hearing, captured every gasp, every short breath and it made him smile...
"Yeah, yeah,..."
Bryce called out, as the orgasmic waves started...
As Bryce's eyes fluttered, he felt a tingle and the tightening of his balls.
"Aahhh, aahhh, aahhh", as he let the peak subside for the last time.
He had no control...
He couldn't slow down...
And he knew that this orgasm would soon overwhelm him...
As his legs quivered, Bryce assumed the positon. With knees bent, he arched his strong back, he was close...
"Now! I need it now! I need to cum..."
Out of nowhere, one image came immediately into Bryce's mind, as he furiously masturbated...
The image of his father...
At first, it creeped him out...
It was his father...
Bryce was about to stop, but then...
Bryce caught his father's scent in the air...
An intoxicating, powerful and masculine scent...
He had never smelled anything like it...
It was euphoric, exhilarating and quite relaxing...
His body shook, quaked from the exquisite orgasm...
His strong legs turned to jelly and he nearly fell over.
"Yeah, yeah...YEAHHH!", as the climax came...
Jets of thick, creamy white and youthful sperm shot into his chest and abs...
"Phewww!...holy shit! That was intense!"
Bryce's orgasm swept, up and down his body and a warmth engulfed him.
"That was great..."
Ryan had heard the whole stimulating orgasm and he was grinning from ear to ear.
"Attaboy, Bryce. Attaboy..."
As, Bryce shook the last drops of sperm from his cock onto the bathtub, he felt energized and invigorated.
Bryce quickly showered, toweled off, and caught himself looking at his swinging cock in the mirror.
He'd never felt so alive, so energetic, and in a healthy kind of high...
His headache was long gone, as was the weird dream he had last night.
His youthful and handsome face was flushed with rosy, crimson cheeks and he couldn't help to smile, grin actually.
"That was the best orgasm, I've ever had..." Bryce combed his hair, brushed his teeth, composed himself and got dressed in a hurry.
He knew that his father, along with everyone one else was waiting for him downstairs.
There was a soft knock at the front door...
Ryan clenched his fist and instantly felt anger rise within him.
He already knew who it was at the other side of the door, he could smell him coming a mile away...
As the front door opened the door, Uilleam McFarlane greeted Ryan with a shit-eating grin.
Uill's nostrils were flaring, as he sniffed the air and inhaled Bryce's sexual heat...
His soft, pearl grey eyes were glazed in a sexual haze and what Ryan found extremely irritating was the obvious hard-on in his tight jeans...
As Ryan was about to have some private words with Uill, Bryce shouted from the top of the stairs...
"Uill! You're back...!"
Uill and Ryan exchanged piercing glances...
"Hey there, Grendel!"
Uill could see the innocence, naiveté in Bryce's eyes.
There was an aura, a distinct quality in this young man that was obvious.
You could see it, feel it, sense it...
"Of course, I'm back! I told you I'd be back, didn't I? No one could keep me from your very important night."
Uill...
My Uill...
I felt happy and safe...
Tonight everything will change...
For better or worse...
To be continued!