Page 13 of Lycan King's Captives
The next minute she rips me to my feet, and my body is sailing through the air; I crash against something, pain slivering through my body, and I cry out then hit the floor. Before I have a chance to sit up, she has my hair in her hand again, jerking my head back.
“You dare hit your future queen?” she snarls, then yanks my head to the side, and I clench my eyes closed. I struggle to regain my composure, my hands shaking. I can feel her breath on my face as she leans in, her voice low and menacing. “You will never hit me again.” A whimper escapes me, and I feel the points of her teeth graze my neck. The next second, I hear a whimper.
My eyes fly open to find Xandros has the woman’s throat, his face a mask of rage. He looks at me with concern before turning back to her. He tightens his grip, and she gasps in pain.
“You will not touch her,” he growls through gritted teeth. He releases her throat, and she backs away, her eyes wide with fear.
“You would pick some fucking random bitch over the future of your kingdom!” she yells, and I flinch.
“She is my mate!” he yells at her.
“And you’re my husband!” she sneers.
“I didn’t ask for this!” he yells back at her, and his words pain me more than they should. Like I am a second choice to her, and why wouldn’t I be? He didn’t want me, and I don’t want him either, so why did those words carve through my chest like a hot knife? I clutch my towel closer, shrinking in on myself.
Suddenly, I feel dirty, like an intruder, a homewrecker, when I have done nothing wrong. I didn’t ask for this. I try not to listen to them argue. That’s his wife, I am... I am... what was I to him, then? Why bring me here claiming I am his mate when he is married? He has a wife, so what use is a mate?
“Exactly where do you expect me to fucking go?” she snaps at him, making me look up at them from my spot on the floor.
“Home, go home, Carina!”
She scoffs. “And humiliate myself even more? Should I tell my father my husband chose some slut he stumbled across in the city?” She shakes her head.
Xandros growls and presses his lips together. “I need blood. Either let me feed on your whore or give me yours!”
The feral growl that leaves him at her words gives me goosebumps.
“Fine, just leave. I will return to the room in a minute,” he tells her, and I blink up at him. He will let her feed off him?
She looks at me one last time with an expression that says I am trash before turning and fleeing. She leaves and my heart’s still pounding in my chest. When I turn to Xandros, I cringe as he glares at me.
His face is filled with anger and disgust, and I can feel the tension radiating off him. He takes a step forward, looming over me, and I am frozen in place, unable to move or speak.
“Did you hit her?” he snarls at me. I stare at him in disbelief before glancing at the door she just left through. He growls and grabs my face, forcing my gaze back to his.
“I asked you a question. Yes or No! Did you hit Princess Dresden?” His tone is menacing, and his grip on my face is tight. His eyes are burning into mine, searching for an answer.
“Yes... she attacked--” my words were cut off when his grip grows impossibly tight, my cheeks pressing into my teeth like they may snap under the pressure of his grip at any moment.
“Do you know what you’ve done? I leave for ten minutes, and you fucking provoke her. What you’ve done is punishable by death. Until you mark me, you’re nothing just a fucking commoner, a...” he screams in my face while his twists into that of a Lycan. Sharp canines protrude, and his claws stab into my cheeks.
“A side whore,” I barely manage to answer for him. A whimper escapes me, my lips trembling when he gasps, letting me go. He sucks in a deep breath while I stare at the floor. How is it possible that I actually want to go home back to my uncle? I never thought I would see the day when I would welcome his fists.
“Sienna, I didn’t mean it like that.” He exhales loudly, and I wipe my cheek, my blood smearing over the back of my hand when he moves with those inhuman movements and jerks my face up. Only this time, his grip is gentler. He curses, licking the pad of his thumb and moving it toward my face. I jerk my face out of his grip.
“I’m trying to heal you,” he snaps at me, reaching for my face again, only I pull away. His hand falls away, and he stares at me, his face a mask of frustration. He takes a deep breath and steps back, turning away from me. I watch him silently.
“Go feed your wife,” I tell him. Those words pierce my soul as I speak them. How is it possible to feel so strongly about someone I hate?
He turns to me, his eyes full of pain and anger. He stares at me for what feels like an eternity, then he turns and leaves without a word. My chest tightens, and he slams the door behind him. I stare at the door before hearing it lock. Forcing myself to my feet, I quietly approach the door, only to discover he has locked me in like a prisoner.
Turning back to the room, I move toward the large mahogany dresser with a huge mirror attached to it. Peering into the mirror, I can see her finger marks etched into my neck. I touch the bruising indents before my gaze moves to my face, four puncture marks on one side. However, the one where his thumb was, is the deepest, blood oozing and trickling down my cheek and neck.
Seeing those gashes reminds me of the monster that has me in his grasp. I look down at my hands, like I can still see my uncle’s blood coating them. My hands are now clean since I showered. I can’t help but think I will become the same monster Xandros is. What I did to him was no better. I killed someone, and I killed my family. I’m no better than my parents.
I rummage for some clothes, anything besides the wet towel making me cold. Digging through a drawer, I find an old shirt. I slide it over my head. Then I remove the towel and wander back into the bathroom to hang it up.
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