Page 6 of Lycan King's Captives
All this will do is give him a window of opportunity to make the trade and for Mal to collect me, ensuring I am not dead by the time he returns me to the prince.
My uncle grabs a face washer, jamming it in my mouth. I try to spit it out when he punches me, my head whipping to the side and smacking the tiles. I see darkness for a moment only for him to duct-tape the face washer in my mouth. I try to reach for it with my chained hand when he yanks on the chains held with a bolt to the wall.
I am forced back under the water, my feet being dragged higher and forced on my back. I scream as the wolfsbane burns me, and I thrash when he yanks on the other chains, suspending my hands in the air.
“Quiet, you’ll ruin the game!” he spits at me while I try to breathe around the duct tape. He then walks out, leaving me in agony as I scream in pain. I’m not a Lycan. Why is this stuff burning me?
Time escapes me as minutes seem like hours as the poison in my system writhes through me. My skin is blistered and bleeding in places, and the wound on my arm seems to be slowly closing over. I don’t know what that means, nor do I care. I long for death. It would be better than this pain. I sense my life ebbing, my vision blurring, senses dulling, and I can barely move. Then darkness descends, and I am no more.
I have no idea how long I have been in here when the door opens and my uncle enters. He presses a clammy hand on my head and curses. “Fuck, I can’t hold him off any longer. He’s been calling for three days! He stopped by and checked your room to ensure you weren’t here,” my uncle Sven informs me.
Three days? I’ve been submerged in this tub for three days. My heart races as my uncle hurriedly pulls my limp body out of the tub. He wraps me in a towel and leads me out of the room. As I am led away, I can still feel the cold lingering on my skin.
He tosses me into my room, shutting the door, and I fall onto my mattress. I glance around the room, my eyes adjusting to the dim light.
Everything seems to have stayed the way I left it. The same posters are on the wall. My clothes are strewn everywhere. The furniture is upturned still. I shiver as I drag the blanket over the top of me. Some part of me is urging myself to remember something crucial. My memory fails me; I only recall the bitter cold sinking into my bones until it turns into blistering heat.
My breathing becomes harsher, my vision blurs, and I can hear my uncle on the phone downstairs. The more I focus on his voice, the clearer it gets. “I got her, Mal, I put her in her room,” I hear him tell him. His voice shouldn’t reach me; he is too distant. How is that possible? My senses are heightened, which is when I taste the coppery scent of blood on my tongue. My teeth, cutting into my tongue and cheeks, are sharper than usual.
I need to get out of here!
No sooner than I think it, I am standing upright. Confused, I blink around my room, trying to figure out how I moved so quickly when the door opens.
“Mal’s on his way. Get some dry clothes on,” my uncle tells me. His voice sounds different, and I stare at him. He even looks different. I can see every pore on his face; his skin appears yellower than normal, thanks to jaundice from his drinking.
“Did you not hear me?” he bellows at me before stalking over. He raises his hand to backhand me. I watch it move toward my face like it’s in slow motion when I grab it. I blink at his wrist clutched in my hand, seeing it shake as he tries to break out of my grasp.
His strength is no match for me when a strange sound tears out of me. His eyes widen in horror when suddenly I hear a snap, and he screams a blood-curdling scream. I let him go, wondering why he made such a noise, and he staggers back, clutching his wrist. I stare at my hands in confusion when the scent of blood reaches my nose. When I look at my uncle, I sniff the air.
His wrist is bleeding, with the bone jutting out of his arm he attacks me. Only when he does, it’s like time slows. With every move he makes, I anticipate and see it coming. The next thing I see is his crumpled form on the ground, my hand inside his chest, my fingers wrapped around his heart when I jerk it, just as a loud bang follows. In shock, I blink at what I did and what I am holding.
I killed him.
I killed my uncle.
With his heart in my grasp, I release it, horrified and sickened. His heart hits the floorboard with a loud squelch sound. That’s when I hear a deep, husky voice behind me, making me spin to see the intruder.
“She’s magnificent,” comes a voice from the door. I take in the stranger, realizing he is in fact Prince Xandros. I stare at him, absorbing his features to memory, his dark features, his strong jawline, and plump lips when my gaze is drawn to his golden eyes. He puts his hands up, and I watch him, wondering where he came from and how he got in my house.
“I’m not here to hurt you; I’m here to help,” he tells me, and I get up, backing away from him, finally coming to my senses as I remember he is the reason I am sick, the reason I got infected. No, he wants to buy me. He’s here to take me. A rumbling noise fills the air, and I jump at the sound while the prince smiles wickedly. Then I realize the growling sound is coming from me.
His eyes flash, and he smiles, showing his canines. “Well, looks like I’ll be doing this the hard way, then,” he purrs before lunging at me.
His movements are so fast they’re a blur. Not like when my uncle moved. He is faster and quicker than my mind can possibly track, yet flight or fight kicks in regardless. Every move I make, he anticipates, moving with ease until he pins me. My vision tinges red, his claws digging into my wrists as he pins them above my head in one of his. Tears prick my eyes, and a sudden overwhelming claustrophobia grips me. He trails a hand down my body as I lift my hips, trying to throw him off. Instead, he rocks his hips against me.
“Keep fighting, love. You’re only making me harder,” he purrs, and I freeze. He laughs as he presses his erection between my legs. I gulp down the dread pooling in my stomach. His breath is hot on my skin as he leans in. I can feel my body trembling in anticipation of what he’ll do next.
I grit my teeth and close my eyes, waiting for the inevitable.
He moves away, and I hear him laugh again. “It seems I’m going to have to break you, little mate,” he says, and I open my eyes to see him smirk, his eyes sparking with amusement. He leans in closer, and I can feel his breath on my face. His eyes twinkle with amusement, and I know I’m in trouble. I’m not escaping this monster any time soon.
“My King?” comes a deep voice behind him, and I turn my head at the sound, looking for whoever else is with him.
“Leave us!” Xandros growls, and I hear the man’s retreating footsteps. King? He isn’t a king. His father hasn’t relinquished the throne to my understanding.
“Will you come willingly, or do I need to force you?” he asks, lifting his hand. He runs a finger down my cheek and then down my neck. My breathing becomes harsher, and his heat seeping into me makes my fever burn even hotter. I know I should resist, yet his touch sends a shiver of pleasure through me, and my body betrays me.
His deep amber eyes are locked on mine, and my heart starts to race as I realize I can’t look away. His lips tug in the corners, and I am stunned by his beauty. Sharp canines protrude from his lips, and his eyes flash black, taking on a demonic appearance, his skin clear and smooth beside the ghosting shadows of his stubble, full lips, and high cheekbones. This man is pure perfection, and his body seems as hard as the steely gaze watching me.
