Page 28 of Lycan King's Captives
I let out a whimper, feeling the tears well up in my eyes. “Please, Xandros, I was a baby. What they did had nothing to do with me.”
He laughs bitterly, the sound cold and unforgiving. “It’s too late for that, Sienna. You should have told me the moment I met you, instead you tried to hide it.”
My heart aches at his words, and I know any hope of convincing him otherwise is slipping away. “Xandros, I wanted none of this. I didn’t choose who my parents were. Can’t you see that?”
He steps closer, his eyes searching mine, as my back digs painfully into the brick and for a moment, I think I see a flicker of doubt in his gaze. Just as quickly, it vanishes, replaced by the steely cold eyes of a man I know who wants nothing more than to kill me.
The alleyway feels even colder, and I can’t stop the shivers that wrack my body. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? I bet you thought it was hilarious keeping that from me. You’re a traitor to the kingdom, my kingdom! I fucking marked you!” Xandros roars, his face twisting with rage, the veins in his neck bulging with his fury. I cringe at his anger. My heart skips frantically, erratically, palpating harder with each passing second.
“I’m not my parents, Xandros,” I plead, my voice shaking, tears streaming down my face. “I never killed your aunt. I’m not responsible for their actions.” His fist connects with the brickwork next to my head, a chunk breaking off, and I flinch.
“This is why Mal wouldn’t tell me who you are! You all lied to me!” he screams in my face, his voice echoing off the walls of the alley, filling the air with palpable tension. He grabs my arm with crushing force and starts dragging me back down the street. The people in the street watch in horror and fascination as I stumble and try to keep up with his furious pace.
“I won’t have a traitor for a mate,” he spits, shoving me forward and pointing to the limo at the end of the street, where I can see the driver opening the back door. “Walk. I can barely look at you, let alone touch you.”
I glance around nervously, desperately looking for a way out; the path is lined with people, all staring at me with disgust and hatred, having overheard his yelling and accusations. “Try it. Run and I’ll break your legs!” Xandros snarls, shoving me again when I hesitate.
As I make my way back to the limo, people sneer and call me a traitor. Someone even spits on me, and a few others throw things, hitting me with painful accuracy. I shriek when a lit cigarette hits my cheek, slapping frantically as it rolls between my cleavage and burns me. I gasp through the pain but am shoved abruptly from behind by Xandros forcing me to keep moving. My cheeks burn with shame. As I reach the car, I look over at Toby’s club across the road and see him standing there, watching the scene unfold, his eyes filled with some indecipherable expression, arms folded across his broad chest.
“Get in the car,” Xandros snarls, gripping my hair and yanking me toward the open door. I cry out, hands gripping as strands of my hair pull painfully from my scalp. Tears sting my eyes. Toby clenches his jaw and disappears back inside his club; he’s powerless to help me or maybe is not wanting to, I’m unable to tell. Xandros shoves me into the back of the limo harshly, my head bouncing off the corner of the door with a loud thud, causing me to hit my head on the door frame. Pain explodes through my skull.
“Be gentle, Xandros. You’re hurting her,” Javier says, his voice filled with concern, trying to reason with my volatile mate.
“You lied to me, kept this hidden. You should have told me the moment you suspected anything! Don’t tell me what to do with her!” Xandros snaps his anger a living, breathing thing, consuming anything that can be considered a redeemable quality, leaving nothing but the monster, the ruthless cruel Lycan King.
I wipe the blood from my forehead that is trickling warmly down my face where the door cut me open. Then Xandros slides into the back of the limo with me, slamming the door shut.
Fear sits in the pit of my stomach, a heavyweight that threatens to crush and suffocate me. Xandros’s rage is a dark storm cloud that fills the small space of the limo. He clutches his hair and punches the seat, over and over, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, his knuckles turning white. I tuck my knees to my chest, my hand gripping the door handle as the limo navigates the windy streets and abrupt traffic that keeps stopping and going. The leather chairs, slashed to pieces where his claws have torn through them, the stuffing spilling onto the floor, covering the floor with white tufts of cushioning.
“What have I done?” he repeats, his voice barely a whisper now, cracking under the weight of his emotions. “What have I fucking done?”
As the limo starts to move, I stare at the floor, my vision blurred by tears, while feeling my blood trickle down from my hairline, the wound throbbing with its own pulse. I try to make sense of the chaos and heartbreak that has become my life. Just when I think I’m managing to survive this nightmare everyone calls life, I am thrown another curve ball. I wonder what the future will hold for me, or if I am doomed to suffer for the sins of my parents.
The car ride is torturous, each passing minute stretching into eternity as I feel the pressure of Xandros’s anger bearing down on me. His ragged breathing is the only sound in the limo, making the silence even more oppressive. I flinch every time he punches the seat, or growls, fearing his anger might redirect toward me at any moment as I press closer to the door as if I can mold or blend into it.
The tension is thick, suffocating me, and I feel like I can’t breathe. I wrap my arms around myself.
12
The drive home is an unending torment, my heart pounding in my chest as my thoughts spiral into the darkest recesses of my mind. I wonder what will happen next. I wonder if Xandros will kill me or cast me aside like a worthless object. I can only pray for the latter. The tension in the limo is suffocating, and I feel as if I’m trapped in a nightmare I can’t escape, no matter how hard I try. The castle lights come into view as the driver turns on the never-ending driveway, trees lining each side as the pebbles crackle under the car’s weight as we pass through the tall iron gates.
When we finally arrive at the castle, Xandros hops out of the car, leaving me to sit there, trembling uncontrollably. He leans back in and growls, his voice dripping with venom, “Get out of the car, Sienna.” I whimper and flinch at the sound of his voice, my entire body trembling with fear.
“Get out!” he screams, his fury echoing through the air like a thunderclap as his fist comes down on the roof of the limo, denting the steel. Guards rush out of the doors, followed by his mother, Queen Adina, and father, King Rehan. As if this night couldn’t get any worse, now I will be forced to face the woman whose sister was brutally murdered by my parents.
“Xandros, what is going on?” his mother asks, panic tainting her voice. His mother stands near the car door wearing a pair of silky pajamas and her hair is in curlers. She looks like a normal woman and not the regal queen she is used to being seen as. Despite the panic in her voice, her posture is still tall and proud, and her eyes are still sharp, taking in what’s going on.
“Nothing, Mother. Go inside,” he tells her. His mother glances into the car and sees me bleeding, her lips parting in shock at my face which I know must be a mess of tears and blood.
“Xandros!” she scolds, moving toward the door. He grabs her arm with a snarl. “I said to go inside,” he growls, his aura crackling around him like a storm.
His father gets in his face, his voice raised in anger. “You dare speak to your mother like that!” Xandros growls right back at him, his eyes blazing with fury. It is impossible to deny the uncanny resemblance he shares with his father, though his father is far older, despite still looking only in his forties. Lycans age far slower, and I know the man is at least from the medieval days, though his age I can’t be sure of. His father, however, resembles a Viking king, his face angry, tough, his demeanor much the same as he challenges his son.
“Then get your wife inside because speaking is far from what I feel like doing right now, Father,” he warns. King Rehan wears blue plaid pajamas. His red robe falls to the ground behind him when Carina saunters out, a smug smile on her face. Her slim figure accentuated by her short, silky slip pajamas. The thin fabric clings to her body, her nipples hard beneath it, giving her a seductive aura. Her dark hair cascading down her back, her smokey eye, and her full lips make her look dangerously gorgeous despite the bed clothes she is wearing.
“Looks to me like Xandros just found out about his little mate’s true identity. Bet you’re glad I didn’t sign those divorce papers now, right, Xandros?” she mocks, her voice a seductive purr.
“What is going on?” his mother demands, her eyes darting between Xandros and Carina.
