Page 47 of Lycan King's Captives
“Xandros,” my eyes meet his, “your mother isn’t the only one who needs to see past Sienna’s parents. She may be their daughter, but in my observations of the girl, she is not them. You were never asked to forgive her parents, so maybe you can forgive yourself; their deaths weren’t your fault, just like they weren’t Sienna’s, so blaming her won’t ease your guilt. Just like you, she is a victim in all this,” he adds. I swallow guiltily and nod once.
As the door shuts behind him, a whirlwind of thoughts start spinning in my head. Yet a glimmer of hope flickers amidst the chaos. The fear of the unknown is far too crippling, if only Carina would accept the divorce, this would be so much easier on everyone. I also know that will never happen.
Chugging the rest of my drink, I get up and leave my office. Returning to my room, I find it empty. Carina is nowhere in sight. With a sigh, I throw myself onto the bed, my thoughts wandering toward Sienna. The bond buzzing between us, alerting me she’s awake. A pull I can’t resist tugs me toward her, leading me to the other side of the castle, right outside her door.
I knock lightly, but when there’s no answer, I go to unlock the door only for it to push open. It’s always locked. Opening the door, I find the room empty. A surge of panic courses through me. My heart beats a frenzied rhythm in my chest as I take in the empty room, the untouched bed. “Sienna!” I call out. No answer. I rush into the bathroom, calling her name, yet she is also not in there.
“Sienna!” The silence that follows is a haunting echo of my worst fears when I catch a hint of familiar perfume. Carina’s perfume. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dial her number. The phone rings out, so I try again while walking out of the room as I hunt for them. Once again, I get her voicemail and a snarl leaves my lips.
26
Buttoning up my pajamas, I step out of the bathroom and turn to the fireplace that has become my personal nemesis. I prod the dying fire with the poker.
I’m about to pick up another log, hoping it catches alight, when my room is suddenly invaded by a person I least suspect. “Get dressed!” Carina’s command slices through the tranquil silence, her voice as cold as the icy draft that seeps into this room each night. Her entrance is abrupt and uninvited, unsettling the peace I’ve cocooned myself in for the night.
Her appearance is unlike anything I’ve seen before. Not only that, but her mascara is smeared, giving her an almost spectral look. Her usually well-contained hair is a disordered mess, and her eyes… her eyes are the personification of torment. I can see unshed tears glistening, making them seem more glassy than usual. This isn’t the composed Carina I’m accustomed to, and it fills me with a chilling dread. She wanders over to my dresser, plucking some tissues from the box and cleaning up the mess of her mascara.
A question forms on my lips, and I swallow it down as I catch the dangerous glint in her eyes as she peers back at me in the mirror. The tension in the room is electric, charged with Carina’s unpredictable wrath. My fingers fumble with the buttons of my pajamas, my heart pounding wildly against my rib cage.
“Why? What’s—?” I stutter. She cuts me off.
“Did you hear me? I said get dressed. We’re going out!” I scramble to my closet, pulling on the clothes closest to me, my hands trembling.
Once dressed, I turn to find Carina hunched over the minibar. She uncorks a bottle of Xandros’s whiskey, pours herself a glass, then another, which she shoves into my hands. I instinctively pull back, and her icy glare has me swallowing hard, taking the glass from her.
I balk at the offering, but her cold, hard gaze leaves me no room for refusal, as I down the glass choking on its harshness.
“Are you… alright, ma’am?” I dare to ask, my voice wavering slightly from the burn of the alcohol.
Her answer is a scornful laugh, one that leaves an icy trail down my spine. “Ma’am? Makes me sound so old and worn out. Well I guess I am old, that’s beside the point, I am nobody’s ma’am,” Her voice fades into a bitter whisper as she takes a hefty swig straight from the liquor bottle. “We’re leaving.”
The words leave me stunned, and I barely have a moment to process before her hand clamps around my wrist. Her grip is ironclad, dragging me along as she strides with purpose through the castle’s grand hallways and out into the open air. Her impatience manifests in the form of her foot, tapping rhythmically against the cobblestone floor.
Her demands for a car echo around us, making the guard nearby jump into action. I feel like a lamb being led to slaughter.
“But…where are we going?” I ask, my words getting swallowed by the night.
Carina doesn’t answer, her stony silence causing the icy tendrils of fear to weave their way around my heart and twists knots in my stomach.
Carina impatiently taps her foot, scanning the area for something.
“My Queen?” the guard asks hesitantly.
“Where’s a fucking car when you need one?” she grumbles, rounding on the guard standing nearby, “You, fetch me a driver, now!” The poor man scurries off, leaving me standing there with Carina under the dim moonlight that is being obscured by the clouds.
“Where are we going?” My question falls on deaf ears once again as Carina continues to ignore me, pulling me further away from the castle toward the fountains, her grip never loosening. Panic rises in my chest as we move further from the castle. I’ve yearned to escape this place, although right now, I feel far from safe with Carina.
A few heartbeats later, a sleek black car pulls up beside us, and without releasing her death-grip on my wrist, Carina yanks open the back door and pushes me inside. She slides in after me, her harsh breaths filling the air in the confined space.
The driver takes off, and I gaze out the window, the castle’s imposing structure growing smaller in the distance. My throat is dry, my heart pounding with fear. My chest tightens at the sight of the castle, which had been both my cage and my sanctuary. Now, it’s just a distant silhouette against the night while Carina fixes her makeup, using a small compact from her clutch.
The city lights begin to blur as we race through the silent streets. The tension inside the car is palpable, a volatile mix of fear, uncertainty, and the stench of Carina’s alcohol-tinged breath. I can barely focus on anything else, the overwhelming sense of impending doom wrapping around me like a cloak.
“Where are we going, Carina?” I manage to ask again, my voice barely more than a whisper. The words hang heavy in the silence of the car. Carina seems lost in her own world of thoughts.
She leans back in the plush leather seat, her eyes closing as she takes a deep, shuddering breath. The veneer of strength she usually wears has all but shattered, revealing a woman on the brink. For a moment, I forget she’s the one who’s been tormenting me.
“The city,” she whispers after an agonizing silence, her voice so soft I almost miss it. “We’re going to the city.”
