Page 30 of Lycan King's Captives
“Adina, you know Xandros can’t kill her now that he’s marked her. It would destroy him,” my father interjects, attempting to diffuse the volatile situation. My mother is beyond listening to reason.
“I don’t care! I won’t have that woman as my daughter-in-law!” my mother yells, her face flushed with her burning anger.
“This isn’t about what you want! I have to figure out what to do with her. I can’t break the fucking bond you’re asking for the impossible!” I reply, my voice rising in frustration at the situation I’ve found myself trapped in.
“Figure something out? You should have never let it get this far, Xandros!” she accuses, her eyes blazing with disappointment and rage.
“I didn’t know, Mother! None of us knew!” I shout back, feeling my control slip away like sand through my fingers.
“You should have looked into her before marking her,” my mother persists, her voice dripping with contempt.
“She was fucking dying. There wasn’t time for me to look into her background!” I scream back at her. She goes to speak again, and I lose my temper, my fist coming down on the bar, the bottles on the shelf rattling loudly.
“Enough!” I roar, my patience finally snapping like a brittle branch in a hurricane. In a fit of fury, I hurl my whiskey glass at the fireplace, causing it to explode in a shower of glass and flames. The sound echoes throughout the room like the shattering of my resolve.
My chest is filled with a swirling mix of emotions: anger, frustration and fear. My parents are frozen in fear, taken aback by the sheer force of my outburst. The billiard room is eerily silent, the only sound being the crackling of the fireplace from the broken glass that now lies scattered across the floor. My anger and frustration swirl within me like a tornado, threatening to consume me.
I glance around the billiard room, my parents’ fear of me palpable in the air. I can feel their judgment and disapproval pressing down on me like a heavy weight. I want to scream, to lash out and break something, anything, to make the feelings go away. Instead, I just stand there, silent and livid, as the fire from the fireplace crackles and burns. After a while, the silence in the room becomes deafening and unbearable.
I storm out of the room, leaving my mother and father behind, their voices fading into the distance like the ghosts of my past. As I stalk through the empty corridors, the weight of the situation bears down on me, my chest tight and my breath shallow. No matter what I do, someone will be hurt, and I can’t shake the feeling it’s all my fault.
My heart aches for Sienna, the woman I’ve marked as my own, now locked away in the depths of the dungeons, her pain echoing through me, her fear evident in the sinking hole in my stomach. The darkness that surrounds her seeps into me, clawing at my very soul. And yet, my mother’s words ring in my ears, the haunting memory of a past impossible to escape.
I find myself torn between loyalty to my family and the bond I share with Sienna, a connection that defies logic and reason. The storm within me rages, threatening to tear me apart as I struggle to find a way through this impossible maze of emotions and consequences. It takes me ages to come back to my surroundings, not realizing in my anger I have gone back to my old quarters, a room I shared with her and I can still feel her presence in the room, as if she is still here with me.
14
Days in the dungeon meld together into an endless, torturous nightmare, punctuated only by the gnawing hunger that twists my insides into knots, the thirst that burns my dry throat. By the third day, my body screams for sustenance, my throat parched, and my lips cracked and bleeding. I’m filthy and freezing. While the pain from the mate bond is like a thousand knives stabbing into my heart, only adding to the agony I am already in.
My thoughts swirl around me like a tornado, a storm of fear and confusion. Is Xandros truly going to let me waste a way down here? Has he forgotten me already? Does his bond not scream out in agony, as mine does? Each moment stretches into an eternity, despair wrapping its icy fingers around my soul, choking me with its suffocating grip.
Suddenly, the sound of the door creaking open shatters the silence I’ve been trapped in for days and I scramble to the far corner of the cell, trembling with fear, wondering if this is when I die. Panic grips me like a vice, and I brace myself for whatever fresh horror awaits. Then, Xandros’s scent reaches me, and my heart lurches in my chest. My bond crying out in relief. He’s come to release me; he’s finally seen reason.
He steps into the dungeon, carrying a tray laden with food and a jug of water. His eyes once filled with warmth, now look upon me with disbelief and horror at my pitiful state as I stare up at him. His gaze sweeps around the cell, taking in the squalor, and he turns to the guard who accompanied him.
“No blankets?” he asks, his voice tight with anger. The guard takes a hesitant step away from him, Xandros’s deadly aura filling the cold space, making the air chillier than it was a second ago.
“Your mother said no one was allowed in or out,” the guard explains, his voice quivering.
“What about feeding her?” Xandros questions, his frustration boiling over, and the veins in his neck press under his skin as his eyes blaze.
The guard shakes his head, unable to meet his gaze. “You mean she hasn’t eaten?” Xandros’s eyes narrow, and the guard shakes his head once more. Xandros growls, snatching the keys from the guard and passing him the tray.
As Xandros steps into the cell, I rush toward him, desperate for the comfort of his touch, his scent, anything to stop the burning cold ache of the bond. Like frostbite, it burns my soul.
Xandros remains frozen and stiff, only growling at me as I bury my face in his chest. He pries my arms off him and a whimper escapes me when he shoves me away so hard I hit the wall, the air escaping me at the force he used. My body crumples on the floor.
“Don’t touch me!” he snaps, and my stomach sinks in response to his cold words. He’s not here for me, he’s not releasing me from this torturous nightmare.
The guard walks in and sets the tray on the ground. My gaze darts to the jug of water, and I reach for it with trembling hands. All the while Xandros watches me like I’m trash he found in a gutter. Clutching the jug, I retreat to the corner I was huddled in, gulping down the water as if it were the elixir of life.
Xandros uses his foot to slide the food tray toward me. I snatch a bread roll and look up at him, pleading with my eyes for some shred of compassion or mercy.
He turns and walks out, leaving me alone in this cold, bitter place. Desperation claws at me, and I call out to him, racing toward the bars and clutching them. “Please, please don’t leave me here.” He pauses for a second, then growls and continues walking, abandoning me once more. The sound of the dungeon door closing echoes loudly, making me realize how truly alone I am here. I stagger back to my corner, the only one that isn’t wet from the dewy air and leaking pipes.
Ravenous, I devour half the food on the tray before stopping, realizing I must ration it, not knowing when my next meal will come. My stomach rumbles with hunger, and I’m already out of water because I stupidly drank every drop, leaving me feeling weak and even more helpless.
As the day turns to night, sleep eludes me once again, my body aching from the cold unforgiving floor, and sores taint my skin from the abrasiveness of the rough ground. My face, though thankfully no longer burning from the slashes, is still marred and rough around the edges. Staring at the barred window, I can tell it’s snowing outside because a small pile of snow has gathered on the floor under the window. Desperate for water, I grab my jug and crawl to it. I scoop some of the snow into my jug, praying it will melt and provide me with a few sips.
