Page 25 of The Lycan King's Captive

“I’m sure,” Cyrus said in a tone cold enough to freeze a desert.

The blond man’s pale blue eyes flashed with irritation, which was precisely the same moment the second man stepped forward.

“Cyrus,” he said warmly, “it’s good to see you.” He shot a quick look at the blond man as if challenging him to say otherwise.

Cyrus’s icy demeanor thawed considerably. “Garrick.” He clasped the other man’s hand and pulled him into a brief embrace. “I’ve never been so happy to see your ugly mug.”

Garrick chuckled and pounded Cyrus’s back. He was far from ugly. He wore his wavy brown hair slightly long, and his warm brown eyes seemed permanently crinkled at the corners. Like every other male I’d seen since I answered Roman’s call, he was tall and muscular, but his size wasn’t intimidating. Maybe because he looked too friendly to use his bulk as a weapon.

As he and Cyrus parted, he looked at me. “You must be Abby.”

“Y-Yes.” I cleared my raspy throat. “Yes. I am. Abby Rowe.” New werewolf. Poor person. Trying to hold my shit together.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Abby.” Garrick exchanged an inscrutable look with Cyrus. “I know you’ve had a rough couple of days. I’ll show you to your room—”

“Have a servant do it,” the blond man said. He glared at Cyrus, and his tone punctured the bubble of warmth that had swelled during Cyrus and Garrick’s greeting. “You imperiled the entire race with your foolishness with Roman. And now you bring one of them into our midst.”

Garrick’s face went ashen. “Foster, this is uncalled for.”

“It’s very called for,” the blond man said. “In fact, it’s my right and obligation to call a meeting of the council, which I intend to do immediately.”

Cyrus’s hands curled into fists. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees. Gold rolled over his eyes as he stepped close to Foster. “Call your meeting, Carrington, but you’ll meet with me first.”

Foster didn’t back down. “Lead the way.”

“Garrick,” Cyrus said without breaking Foster’s stare, “take Abby upstairs and then meet me in my study. We’re dealing with this right now.”

“Of course, my lord,” Garrick said smoothly.

Before I could protest or even think about what was happening, Garrick took my arm and steered me up the front steps and through the double doors. We passed through a series of elegant rooms before ascending a grand staircase. After multiple long hallways and several twists and turns, we reached a gorgeous bedroom.

Although “bedroom” wasn’t really the word for it. This was a hotel suite, with a living room, sleeping area, and small dining room. I gawked. I couldn’t help it.

“I apologize for that scene downstairs,” Garrick said behind me. “And for Foster’s insults.”

I turned, unsure how to respond. My first instinct was to say “it’s fine” but it wasn’t. And I couldn’t say “I understand” because I didn’t. So I forced a smile and said, “The room is beautiful.”

“Make yourself at home. There’s an en suite bathroom and…” He hesitated, as if he was unsure what to say next. Finally, he cleared his throat. “I’m sure Cyrus will clarify this, but for now it’s best if you don’t leave your room.”

My stomach clenched. “All right.” I just stopped myself from looking to see if there were bars on the windows.

Garrick nodded. “It’s good to meet you, Abby. I’ll see you later.”

Then he was gone. And I was alone.

In another kind of prison.

12

CYRUS

Control. I clung to it as I faced Foster Carrington across my desk. He was a dick of the highest order, and his bloodline was ancient. For many lycans, those were the two most desirable qualities in a leader. No wonder so many on the Council of Nobles longed to see him on the throne.

But my bloodline was slightly more ancient. Nobler. Prouder. My lineage was pure, and that mattered to the nobles, too. The names of every lycan king whose ass had sat on that throne were inked on my arms, not Foster’s.

He despised me for it.

And now Roman had given him a shiny new weapon in the form of Abby. If anything happened to me, the aristocratic families that sat on the council would proclaim Foster king before my body was cold. Before today, he’d mostly kept his insults to himself. He’d stayed in his place, content to rule the council and make trouble from the sidelines.

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