Page 49 of Lycan King's Captives
“She didn’t bring one, we are alone… ah, Xandros?” I tell him, my voice barely above a whisper. “I think we were followed by a group of men; they were watching Carina and I at the other club,” I admit. His growl resonates through the phone, making me flinch.
“I’m on my way, and don’t you dare think about running, Sienna.” Xandros’s icy tone sends chills down my spine as he ends the call. I’m left staring at the phone in my hand, then at Carina, who is slumped in her seat.
Then whispers creep through the heavy curtain separating us from the bar. The men outside are becoming increasingly agitated, their comments growing more venomous.
“Isn’t that the vampire bitch, our future queen,” one sneers.
Another adds, “It’s unlike the future king to leave his betrothed unguarded.” Another man from the other club laughs.
“Easy pickings, I’ve always hated that bitch.” The hostility in his voice makes my skin crawl.
“I owe that king a bit of vengeance, took my fucking eye when he killed Mal,” one growls. The atmosphere outside the booth is a boiling pot of resentment and hostility.
With rising dread, I realize we are sitting ducks. Against all logic, I try to rouse Carina again. I could abandon her to whatever fate they have in store for her, but I would never be able to live with myself if they hurt her when I could have helped her. “We can’t stay here, Carina. We aren’t safe here,” I whisper, pulling on her arm. Carina is dead weight. As if on cue, the curtain is ripped open, three men crowding the entrance of the booth, their menacing expressions promising nothing good.
I’m caught off guard and stumble back and nearly fall on Carina’s lap. The men eye Carina behind me with undisguised malice. One reaches for her, grabbing her wrist. Summoning the last shred of courage, I force myself between them. “Back off, the king is on his way.” I warn the man. He smirks. “Is that right?” he laughs. I slap his wrist when he reaches for her again. “I said leave her, if you touch her the king will kill you,” I sputter.
One man sneers—the man missing an eye. The only thing left is just a hollow socket on one side. “We best be quick, then.” His words echo in the space, and they send my heart hammering against my ribs. My words of warning have fallen on deaf ears, and I can only hope Xandros arrives soon.
As much as Xandros is feared, it’s clear he’s also hated.
I lean down to Carina, whispering, “Carina, you need to get up.” Before the words have fully left my mouth, the man snarls. The sudden glare of the bar lights is blinding. The three burly men cram themselves into the booth, their ravenous eyes falling on Carina.
Though they clearly recognize Carina, they don’t seem to know of Xandros’s mate. Their attention is solely on Carina, who has become an easier target in her current state.
“Back off!” I warn them. Their reaction is far from what I had hoped for. Their smirks turn crueler.
Another scrutinizes me and recognition flits across his face. “I recognize you, you’re Sienna… whatsy’s face’s niece,” he smirks. “Your uncle owes me $1500! Best settle that debt while here.” With that, he grabs my wrist with a grip that could crush bones.
My struggle proves futile as they haul me out of the booth and toss me onto a nearby pool table. I instantly thrash as they jerk me around like a rag doll. My legs kicking frantically while they try to pin me.
In the midst of the chaos, I catch sight of Carina being dragged away. She comes to just in time, awareness flooding her face as she is bent over a pool table nearby. “Sienna?” she mumbles, panic lacing her voice as she pushes off the table, only to have her head slammed against the wood. It’s too late; they’ve begun tearing at her clothes, their cruel laughter mingling with the deafening beat of the music I know will forever haunt me.
“Do you have any idea who I am? Get your fucking hands off me!” Carina snarls, her voice echoing through the now nearly empty club. Peering around, I see most patrons have left, even the staff have abandoned us as I kick and thrash in panic. One of the men responds, “Oh, we know exactly who you are, love. Now you’re going to know who we are,” the man answers her.
My foot connects with one man’s face. On the pool table, I scramble to my knees, and my eyes land on a pool cue, I crawl to it. Grasping it, just as fingers lock around my ankle. I swing blindly with all my might; the cue connecting with one of the men’s groin. He doubles over, letting me go. I bolt off the table, heading for Carina. She’s managed to fight one off, when another—a vampire—has sunk his teeth into her neck. Her scream is cut off abruptly, replaced by a gurgling sound that has my stomach churning when I am cut off by another man.
“Stay back!” I snap at him, trying to keep my eyes on both men.
Suddenly, the screech of tires outside steals my attention, my heart hammering even louder. As I turn back to Carina, I see her ripping a man’s heart from his chest.
“Oh, you’ve fucked up,” she taunts, albeit shakily. Her victory is short-lived, as another man shoves her back over a pool table after punching her. One man lay dead at her feet, leaving five to contend with.
“You think so?” the man laughs, while I am backed into a corner by three others, brandishing my broken pool stick while trying to keep track of the two men who have Carina. They are tall and muscular, with dark eyes full of malice boring into me, Their faces are twisted in menacing sneers, and one has a deep scar down his face. They move toward me with predatory grace. They wear dark clothing, ripped and stained with blood. One has a leather jacket on, the other a cloak that I can tell is expensive by how thick it is. Their hands are clenched into fists, and they have an air of danger about them. Two of which I swear I’ve seen in Toby’s bar or Mal’s, so I know they frequent the seedier areas of the city, which means it won’t end well for us.
“I know so,” Carina laughs. The man holding her wrists to the table glances at his friend. “I may be the king’s wife, but she is his mate and that?” Carina laughs, nodding toward the door. The sound of car doors opening and closing outside sends a wave of silence through the room. Everyone freezes, our ears straining over the music. “Is the sound of your death.” Her words hang heavily in the air. The men glance at each other nervously.
It seems as if the door has opened on cue, and Xandros steps inside, accompanied by his guards. All eyes turn to Xandros as he strides into the club, his eyes scanning the room. Xandros is an imposing figure, standing tall, leaving no questioning of his authority. His features are sharp, and his gaze is intense. He is dressed in a black suit, and it is crinkled, which I find odd; he always looks impeccable. As he moves further into the room, his presence commands everyone’s attention, the men watching him fearfully, and his presence alone is enough to fill the room with tension. His gaze sweeps over the scene—Carina bent over a pool table, a man cowering away from her the moment he steps into the room, and me, petrified, brandishing a pool cue.
His eyes burn with a fury that could ignite the air itself. He’s a tempest made of flesh, and I am caught in the eye of his storm.
His gaze lands on me, and the room shrinks until it is only us. The dim light paints shadows on his face, turning him into a terrifying apparition of his usual self. When eyes find mine, for a moment, time is suspended in the space between our locked gazes. There is an entire conversation at that moment, a silent promise of wrath and retribution.
“What do we have here?” Xandros growls, the deadly timbre of his voice sending chills down my spine. The men around me shrink back, their once bold stances now wilted in the presence of the king. One of them stammers, “We didn’t know they were yours.”
A low growl escapes his throat, rippling through the room like a menacing premonition. The men around me instinctively back away, their smirks faltering at the sight of the furious king.
“Carina, are you okay?” he calls over to her, not taking his eyes off the men who dared touch us. She pulls herself to a standing position, one hand clutching her torn clothes, a mad laugh escaping her lips. “Oh, they’ll wish they never touched us, Xan.”
