Page 75 of Destined to the Lycan
“Promise to kill me if needed,” I insisted when he failed to respond.
His face closed off as my demand snapped him out of his shock. To my dismay, he shook his head as he once more leaned back against the windowsill.
“I can’t,” he said as a sole response.
“But you love her!” I exclaimed with outrage. “And don’t give me some nonsense about the Covenant. Surely it cannot forbid you from protecting someone you love!”
A strange expression flitted over his face before he shook his head again.
“The Covenant applies to any mortal who isn’t my mate or my offspring,” Lyall explained. He hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “I can only kill you if you become a threat to me.”
“Then see that I become one,” I snapped in a commanding tone.
The same strange expression crossed his handsome face before it shifted into something more taunting as he tilted his head to the side.
“Are you so eager to die, pup?”
I repressed the urge to smack him. As aggravating and obnoxious as he could be, I was beginning to suspect Lyall used sarcasm and provocation as a defense mechanism to hide his softer or vulnerable emotions.
“No, but I’m eager to see her live, no matter the cost to me,” I replied in a factual manner.
This time, his eyes filled with an unmistakable sadness that he failed to suppress. He glanced at Amara with an air of deep longing before turning his back on me. He stared outside the window, his hands clenching the frame. In that instant, I realized he needed a moment to compose himself. I kept quiet, wondering what thought had provoked such a strong reaction from him.
“Amara wants to livewithyou, notwithoutyou,” Lyall said at last, his voice low and slightly belligerent. “So see that you succeed. I do not wish to explain to her why you had to be put down.”
Despite the anger and resentment audible in his voice, my chest warmed for him with a wave of sympathy mixed with guilt. I could never be sorry that Amara was my Twin Flame, but I empathized with the deep sense of loss he had to feel right now. My mate’s words also came back to the fore. She was right about him not being a monster. Otherwise, he would have gotten rid of his competition while she was incapacitated and focused solely on his desires instead of putting hers first.
“If I’m to have a chance to succeed, I need to find a safe place to retreat to,” I replied in a soft voice. “Ideally, it would be a place of power to enhance the weaker magic of the wards I can set. But an enclosed space with strong walls might also work.”
Lyall looked at me over his shoulder with a neutral expression.
“You can try in her workshop,” he said. “The magic there isn’t very potent, but it would be better than nothing. Alternatively, there are a few fairy circles in the nearby woods, but it will be trickier to get you there once you’re mindless.”
“Her workshop!” I exclaimed. “The Weaver mentioned that I should get vanishing soy candles there to help appease me that night.”
“Come then. I’ll show you where it is,” Lyall offered in a mysterious fashion.
Something in the way he spoke those words struck me as odd. But before I could try to pry further, he grabbed a folded piece of fabric sitting on top of the dresser to his right, framed by the two large windows of the room, and tossed it at me. I instinctively caught it and glanced at it to realize it was a pair of pants.
“First, put these on,” Lyall grumbled. “I do not care to stare at your cock all day.”
I snorted and complied. As a Lycan, nudity was something we often didn’t even pay attention to. But had our roles been reversed, I would also not care to see the man who ‘stole’ my female from me strutting his assets to my face around the clock.
As I finished buttoning the trousers, Lyall headed out of the room. I followed in his wake as he led me down the first set of stairs to the main floor and turned around to cross the corridor running its entire length. We walked past the living area and formal dining room to the left, and he opened the second door on the right. It revealed a large space—which I suspected previously served as a guest room—but now served as Amara’s workshop.
Rows upon rows of shelves occupied the entire back wall. They were neatly organized with sections dedicated to candles, perfumes, soaps, potpourri, and scented oils. On each side of the door, long counters with cupboards contained the various ingredients and reagents used to craft her goods. Some were visible through the glass doors of the cupboards. She had placed her worktable on the left side, propped against the side wall. The wide window above it gave a breathtaking view of the backyard, which had to be a delightful scenery to gaze upon while working.
A large cauldron and a firepit occupied the center of the room. It explained why stone pavers covered the floor of this room instead of the hardwood found everywhere else. A wistful smile settled on my lips as I pictured her hunched over the table as she worked, casting the occasional glance out the window at our pups running around the garden while I hunted.
My gaze roamed over the various ingredients on display. As I inventoried the reagents she possessed, my mind bubbled with the various rare ones that I could acquire for her in remote places few dared to venture into or whose existence they weren’teven aware of. As a former outcast—and later on a guide—I had explored far and wide and entered places wiser folks would have avoided. Bursting with excitement, I made my way towards the opposite side of the room where she had grouped her candles based on purpose, from advanced witchcraft to scented and decorative.
Halfway through the room, I froze, a familiar scent I hadn’t fully acknowledged, slapping my nostrils with force. It was subtle but undeniable. I sniffed the air, my spine stiffening as I recognized why it had drawn my attention despite the countless aromas in the room, from the herbs, spices, and other fragrant sources.
I jerked my head towards Lyall, a shocked expression on my face. Nonchalantly leaning against the door frame, he was observing me with an intensity I was increasingly growing familiar with.
“Do you smell that?” I asked.
He held my gaze unwaveringly. For half a beat, I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he shook his head.
