Page 10 of The Lycan King's Captive

More booted feet moved around me, and then a cell door opened.

The female’s cell. Carl entered it, prod in hand.

I jerked my head up, my heart rate kicking into overdrive.

Roman crouched next to me and swiped a fingertip across my cheek. He held up his bloodied hand and smiled. “Not so high and mighty now, Cyrus.” His smile grew, revealing sharp fangs. “It turns out all that blue blood is red.”

In the female’s cell, Carl took up position behind her and let the prod dangle at his side.

No! I lurched forward.

Roman caught me, one forearm wrapped around my neck. He pulled me against him and spoke in my ear. “You like your new cellmate, Cyrus? I bet you feel some misguided duty to protect her, hmm? Or maybe you just like what you see. Your laws let you have any female you want, right? You could have some fun with her.”

I fought his grip, but I was too weak to break it. My vision blurred, the female a hazy bundle of chocolate fur with Carl’s body like a tall, dark shadow behind her.

“No?” Roman asked, his breath hitching as he contained my struggles. “I guess not. She’s not quite good enough for one with such an impressive lineage. Your sperm is too precious for that.”

The nausea burned higher in my esophagus, threatening to make me heave. Because I knew what Roman was up to now. And, suddenly, the unbending part of me was prepared to grovel.

Anything to stop him from carrying out his next move.

His arm tightened across my throat, and his hot breath touched my cheek. “Let’s test it, though, shall we?”

I clawed at his arm, but it didn’t matter. My claws were one of the first things he’d taken.

His free hand tangled in my hair, and then he yanked my head back, forcing me to look directly at the female. “Your choice, Cyrus. You can either fuck her, or you can watch her die.”

5

ABBY

Fear had gripped me since the moment Roman and his men came downstairs. I’d been paralyzed, unable to so much as glance at Roman as I struggled not to freak out at being trapped in a wolf’s body.

But when he pulled the bloodied male’s head back and rasped his ultimatum, I sprang into action.

Scrambling to my feet, I bolted toward the open door.

Pain exploded in my back, and my legs gave out. I hit the ground with a high-pitched yelp, my flanks shivering. The cattle prod. Carl had barely tapped me. I knew the next jab wouldn’t be as light.

Booted footsteps filled my ears, and then Roman gripped my ruff and forced my gaze to his.

Agony.

Every nerve ending screamed. My muscles seized, and my skin felt like I’d been dragged across rough cement. I tried to pull from his grip, but he was too strong. His yellow eyes bored into mine, holding me captive.

“Obey me, wolf.”

Suddenly, my emotions flipped back and forth like a switch. On the one hand, the urge to please him—to do anything for him—was overwhelming. At the same time, I’d never loathed anyone more. I despised and adored him. Wanted to snap my jaws in his face and crawl into his lap and nuzzle his neck.

The rapid-fire changes played like a tug-of-war in my brain, adding to the pain flooding my central nervous system.

He seemed to feel some of the same conflict, because he rubbed a gentle hand over my snout, and his voice was almost kind as he murmured, “You turned out lovely.”

Affection came out of nowhere, urging me to push my head into his hand. Confusion and revulsion swirled in my mind.

His eyes glowed brighter, and his next words rippled with power. “Change back now.”

The transformation swept me at once, fire searing my veins like a lit match on gasoline. My internal organs seemed to boil, and my jaw hung open as I gave a canine gasp. It was just as bad as the first time. Bones snapped. Tendons tore. I screamed as my vocal cords shredded and the taste of pennies filled my mouth.

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