Page 33 of The Lycan King's Captive

In college, I once put off writing a paper until a week before the end of the semester. My whole grade was riding on it, so I locked myself in my dorm room, ordered takeout, and wrote for days on end. When it was all said and done, I got an eighty percent—and I also got an understanding of how solitary confinement can make someone go absolutely insane.

After a week in my room following Cyrus’s betrayal, I was beginning to think I was well on my way to a padded cell. My suite was spacious, but I hadn’t felt the sun on my face in days.

Cyrus’s parting words to me replayed often in my head. “Don’t leave this room without permission.”

He hadn’t said “don’t leave this room.” He’d given me an out. The problem was, it was obvious he meant I needed permission to leave from him.

And he could go right to hell.

I wasn’t asking him for anything. If I had to stay in my suite forever, I would.

The scary part, though, was I starting to think he might be calling my bluff. Over the past seven days, servants had delivered regular meals directly to my door. The food was delicious, so I had no complaints there. Each meal was Michelin-star worthy. Not that I had any idea what it took to earn a Michelin star.

Celeste had visited, making me laugh and bringing me clothes. She kept my spirits up as much as possible. Garrick had stopped by too, asking if I needed anything and avoiding speaking of Cyrus.

In fact, nobody spoke about Cyrus. He was absent from every conversation.

But I was ashamed to admit he was very much present in my dreams. More than once, I’d woken with my heart pounding and my body on fire. A few times, I’d even let my hand wander south so I could stroke my slick folds while I pressed my other fist to my mouth to muffle my cries.

My days had fallen into a sad routine. I rose and showered. I ate breakfast. Then I watched TV or read, followed by lunch and more reading or TV. By afternoon, I was so bored I usually slept just to make time pass more quickly. Then I ate dinner and tried not to think about how I was doomed to repeat the same schedule the next day.

At first, I’d plotted my escape. But I’d quickly abandoned that idea when I peeked my head out my door and saw a guard stationed at the end of the hall. The only thing that could be more humiliating than asking Cyrus for permission to leave my room would be getting hauled in front of him like a naughty child.

Or a disobedient concubine.

Out of habit, I wandered to the full-length mirror in my bathroom and examined the mark on my neck. Neither Celeste nor Garrick had mentioned it. Probably, they were too polite to bring it up. But it was hard to miss. Like a brand, it designated me the king’s property.

I turned sideways and surveyed my stomach. Did it look fuller? Rounder? I smoothed a hand down my front.

This was silly. Even if I was pregnant, it was too early to notice any changes.

The sound of knocking brought my head up. It was a little past three—far too early for dinner. Could it be Cyrus at last?

Immediately, anger flared in my gut. What did I care if it was Cyrus? If it was, I would take great pleasure in opening the door just to slam it in his face.

I rushed from the bathroom, hellbent on doing just that. When I swung open the door, however, it was Garrick. He took one look at my face and stepped back. “Uh, hi… Is this a bad time?”

I couldn’t be mean to Garrick. It wasn’t his fault his boss was an egotistical jerk.

“Not at all,” I said, “I’m glad you’re here.” I motioned him inside. “What’s up?” It wasn’t like him to stop by during this time of day. Normally, he appeared around meal times. More than once, he’d eaten lunch with me, which had made me feel almost normal again—

—until I remembered I was a werewolf trapped in the mansion of a lycan king who had turned me into a sexual possession without my consent.

For the first time since I’d met him, Garrick seemed unsure of himself. Even nervous. “Abby…I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it.” He pulled something from his pocket and thrust it toward me. “Cyrus would like you to take this.”

I looked down at his hand. In it was a pregnancy test still in the package. “A pregnancy test?” I said stupidly.

“Yes. Cyrus mentioned making a deal with you.”

My heart skipped a beat. We hadn’t made a deal. I’d demanded he let me go once I got my period. He’d declared he was the king and didn’t have to do anything I said.

Apparently, he’d changed his mind. I stared at the test. Did this mean Cyrus was willing to let me leave? A sinking feeling spread through me, and I wasn’t sure why. This was what I’d wanted…

“It’s too soon,” I said. “It’ll be another week at least until I can tell—”

“Not for us. It’s different for lycans, and I’m fairly certain the same is true for werewolves. The hormones appear in the mother’s system much more quickly. Cyrus said it might be a little too early to know about a pregnancy for certain, but he asked you to take the tests starting today.”

Well, there was no arguing with that. It was, in fact, the “deal” I’d proposed.

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