Page 34 of The Lycan King's Captive

“All right.” I accepted the test, which felt like a ten-pound weight in my hand. “I’ll be right back.”

Garrick nodded, his expression more than a little mortified. Welcome to the club, I thought as I returned to the bathroom and opened the test.

I peed on the stick and placed it on the counter while I washed my hands. After several minutes, I went back to the living room, where Garrick still waited. “It’s negative.”

“Really?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking almost disappointed. Which was absurd and probably just a product of my weary imagination. After a week alone with mostly my own thoughts as company, I was a poor judge of other people’s emotions.

“Would you like to get out?” Garrick said suddenly.

My stomach did a little flip. “Out?”

“Like take a tour of the mansion. There’s a beautiful garden just off the back lawn. It’s within the walls, so you’d be safe there. A walk might be nice after all this time indoors.”

I chewed my bottom lip, thinking it over. “Cyrus won’t mind?”

Garrick’s gaze was slightly reproachful even as the kindness in it remained. “My family has served the Rothkilde kings for centuries, Abby. I don’t do anything without Cyrus’s permission or knowledge.”

That meant this was Cyrus’s idea. First the pregnancy test, now this indirect invitation to wander the grounds. A crack in his armor perhaps? Or maybe he’d grown sick of me and was looking for the most expedient way to give me the boot.

I had two choices: I could stay in the suite and try to unravel his motivations from afar, or I could go see something besides the same four walls I’d been staring at for a week.

I smiled at Garrick. “Just give me a minute to change.”

* * *

A half hour later, my sides hurt from laughing. Garrick had a gossipy—and usually hilarious—story about every nook and cranny of the house. He showed me the fountain where a noble had gotten drunk, climbed in, and then insisted he was drowning. “Problem was,” Garrick said with a lift of his brow, “the damn thing had been drained for cleaning the day before. The silly fool had pissed himself so badly he thought he was going down with the ship.”

I put a hand over my mouth. “That cannot be true. Is he still on the Council of Nobles?”

Garrick’s eyes gleamed. “Cyrus put him on the Water Safety Committee.”

Mirth had me cracking up again. “Good for Cyrus,” I murmured, and then I looked away when I noticed Garrick watching me closely.

He led me through galleries with walls lined with paintings and priceless works of art. He showed me a huge indoor swimming pool with a glass ceiling that let sunlight sparkle on the water. We walked around the garden, which bloomed with roses and wildflowers. We never saw Cyrus, but I felt his presence everywhere. At times, I couldn’t help thinking how much I wished he walked beside me. How I wanted him to point out things about the house no one else knew.

But that would mean accepting the role he’d selected for me. How could I go from being an independent woman and medical professional to a concubine? The word was just an outdated way of saying “mistress.” I wasn’t worthy to be his wife, but he was okay with me warming his bed—and all because he swore it was a way to keep me safe.

A tiny voice whispered in my ear. Would it be so bad to share his bed? I couldn’t deny I’d enjoyed it. Sex with Cyrus was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. He only had to look at me and I was ensnared in his gaze. It had been like that since I opened my eyes and saw him in the cage across from mine in Roman’s basement.

The sound of male voices yanked me from my thoughts.

“The training room is just up here,” Garrick said. He led me toward the sounds of muffled grunts and masculine laughter. At the end of a long hallway, a spacious gym appeared. The floor was covered with mats. Various workout machines lined the mirror-covered walls. In the center of the room, two lycans sparred.

I immediately recognized them as the hard-eyed males who accompanied Cyrus and me on the helicopter. Once again, they were dressed in black, but this time they wore loose-fitting pants and tank tops that showed off their ripped chests and powerful arms. They were also barefoot, and they circled each other, both clearly waiting for the other man to make a move.

One lunged. His opponent slapped him away. This went on for a few more seconds, with one darting or feinting and then snapping out a punch, just to get it blocked. Their movements were fluid and graceful, almost like a dance. And they definitely weren’t hard to look at. Both men were handsome and well-built.

But neither was Cyrus. A small sound escaped me before I could stop it. Why couldn’t I get him out of my head? I hadn’t spoken to him in a week and here I was thinking of him when I should have been ogling the hot guys right in front of me.

Without warning, they ceased their halfhearted battle and turned toward me. They both bowed in my direction before walking toward a bench that held water bottles.

My breath caught. Why on earth would a pair of lycans bow to me?

“They honor you as Cyrus’s concubine,” Garrick said quietly at my side.

I jerked my gaze to his—and I barely stopped myself from slapping a hand over the mark on my neck. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s not an insult, Abby. In previous eras, lycan kings chose concubines with strong wolves. We don’t have a lot of children.” His brown eyes turned thoughtful. “Some scholars who study these things believe it’s because we have such long lifespans. Sort of like nature’s way of keeping the supernatural population in check.” He glanced at the two males. “Your story has been circulating. Everyone knows you saved Cyrus’s life…and killed one of your captors. Cyrus says your beast is strong. It would have to be for you to survive a bite. The vast majority of human women don’t.”

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