Page 22 of Lycan King's Claim
Javier's phone rings, shattering the oppressive silence that hangs over us. He answers quickly, his voice strained as he listens to the voice on the other end. A flicker of something, perhaps a spark of relief, dances in his eyes before he regains composure. The room holds its breath, hanging on for any news.
"We have a lead on Xandros. I'll go find him," Javier announces, his voice resolute. The room erupts into a mix of anxiety and anticipation, our gazes turning to him. I can feel the weight of their expectations pressing against me, the unspoken question of whether I will accompany him. Javier's eyes meet mine, silently pleading for my presence since Xandros ordered him not to leave my side. The room falls into a heavy silence.
"I will go with you," I state, my voice steady despite the trembling fear of what we'll find when we locate him.
As Javier drives through the city, I stare vacantly out the window. I want to ask what the person said on the phone, but I know it is nothing good because of how tense he is. The scent of desperation lingers in the air, mingling with Javier's fear. We arrive at a dimly lit bar, the streets are quiet and empty, which is unusual.
Shop windows broken, a few bodies lay on the ground when we spot his car. Javier gets out and talks to a man, who points to the bar his car is parked in front of. The body of a man, one I recognize as a bouncer at Toby's pub lay on the ground, glass all around him from where he was thrown through the window.
Javier nods to the man and comes over to me, and I rub my arms from the ice-cold wind that whistles down the street. "Come on," he nudges me, moving toward the door. We step inside the dimly lit foyer to find a grim scene of carnage and violence. The atmosphere is heavy with the stench of blood, almost stealing my breath.
Bodies lie strewn across the floor, blood sprayed up the walls.
Javier leads the way unwavering and determined to locate him, his instincts guiding him through the destruction, past the dance floor to the tavern out the back. I follow, my heart pounding in my chest, a mixture of fear and anticipation coursing through my veins. And then, there he is.
Xandros, a force unleashed, a predator amidst the chaos. His eyes burn, glowing in the darkness, his movements fluid and lethal as he tears the innards out of the dancer who is already dead, her blonde hair drenched in her blood, her bluish eyes vacant and her skin a deathly pallor.
Javier approaches cautiously, his voice a calm yet cautious plea. "Xandros, it's me. Javier," he calls out, his words are swallowed by the dull music coming from the busted speakers. Xandros' gaze snaps towards him, a snarl curling his lips, his presence radiating with his aura. The tension in the room is palpable, and I hold my breath, waiting for chaos. He is covered in blood, every inch of his fur, and it drips from his claws.
Without warning, Xandros lunges at Javier, a blur of raw aggression. My heart skips a beat, terror seizing me in its icy grip. The clash of their bodies echoes through the room, their struggles a savage battle of strength and savagery. I stand frozen, caught between the impulse to intervene and the paralyzing fear that I may be torn apart if I do.
Javier's pained groans mingle with the sound of breaking glass, his body tossed and battered by the wrath of our king. Xandros grabs Javier effortlessly, tossing him about as if he is merely a toy and not a grown man. His body crashes against the pool table, the thick legs attached to the base buckling before collapsing. Xandros snatches up a pool stick off another nearby, snapping before standing over Javier, the stick poised to kill him.
But then, as if driven by a force beyond my own comprehension, I find myself hurtling towards them, my body colliding with Xandros' in a desperate bid to break through the haze of his rage.
He tosses me aside, my body crashing against the ground, the impact stealing the breath from my lungs. I lie there, stunned for a second before getting to my hands and knees, my gaze lifts just in time for him to attack me. My scream is mangled and broken as he pins me, my gaze fixed upon Xandros as he looms above me, his snarls reverberating through my very being.
His teeth graze my neck, the threat of death hanging in the air as my heart thumps wildly. Panic surges within me, I twist my body, breaking free from his grip, my breath coming in ragged gasps. His bond rages against mine, a turbulent storm that threatens to consume us both. I back away, and he stalks me, eyes tracking me. My hand shakes as I back up, holding it out like trying to ward off a savage dog.
"Xandros, it's me. Sienna," I whisper, my voice laced with my fear when I bump into something, A table and my other hand fumbles for anything to defend myself, only coming up with a broken glass. His eyes flicker, and he lifts his head, sniffing the air.
A deep, emanating growl rumbles from his chest as he stops in front of me. I cup his face in trembling hands, willing him to see me, to recognize the bond that binds us. I can feel the chaotic fury of his emotions, his struggle against the darkness that has taken a hold of him. And slowly, ever so slowly, I see a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, a spark of sanity.
That sanity is short-lived. Javier groans, his battered body climbing out of the broken table and smashed wood. He shakes his head, concern etched across his features, when his eyes move to mine, but I raise a hand, a silent plea for him to leave.
"Go," I urge him, my voice laced with urgency. "I will handle this." Javier hesitates, torn between the instinct to protect me and the strength of my command I hadn't used before. Ultimately, he relents, retreating.
Alone with Xandros, I find myself caught in the whirlwind of his conflicted desires. His grip on reality teeters on the precipice, his eyes shifting with a blend of hunger and rage. The primal instincts that course through him threaten to consume me, to rip me apart in his grasp. But I refuse to be a victim, to surrender to his animalistic desires.
I shed my clothes, one article at a time, his eyes watching each movement, tracking me like he is trying to remember why he's intrigued by me. Almost confused, like he doesn't understand it's our broken bond, he is searching for mine, feeling the frayed edges of it. Each discarded garment exposes more of my bare skin to his hungry gaze. I know that he craves my bond, that connection between us is what drives him.
As I drop to my knees before him, the room blurs into a haze. His eyes burn with a predatory gleam, his breath heavy with anticipation. I can feel the intensity of his gaze, the weight of his hunger bearing down on me. And at that moment, I understand the power that lies within having a mate.
"Xandros," I breathe, my voice trembling with a mix of vulnerability and defiance.
"You want me? You want my bond?" I continue, my hands trembling as I reach out to touch him. He growls, a rumble that rings through the air, but I stand my ground, refusing to be cowed by the beast that grips my hair.
With each caress, each brush of my fingers against his fur, he becomes rougher. I can see the struggle that rages within him, the war between the darkness and the glimmer of his humanity when he pounces on me.
His touch is rough, his grip possessive, as he tears at my underwear, the fabric yielding beneath the strength of his desperation. The pain slices through me, a mix of pleasure and anguish, but I refuse to let it break me. I cling to my resolve, to the belief that there is a glimmer of him left buried within his tortured soul.
"Shift back," I hiss as his claws rake down my skin.
He growls, nipping at me, trying to make me submit to him. However, I refuse, knowing if I do, he might just kill me by accident. I shove him, using all my strength, and he falls backward. The moment he does, though, he growls menacingly, but I move quickly before he can attack me.
I find myself straddling him, his body beneath mine, our bond pulsating with an intensity that threatens to consume us. I can feel his claws tearing at my flesh, the raw edge of his desperation and hunger etched into his touch when suddenly fingers replace claws, skin instead of fur. His lips crash against mine hungrily, devouring them, his touch painful although not holding the same brutality.
A fire erupts between us, my bond coming out of the shadows, submitting to him. I never understood the power of a bond until my heartbeat quickened, two raging forces desperately fighting to merge with one another as his hips thrust and grind against mine. His movements become more frenzied, raw, primal. Like he is trying to possess me. Even while my bond is trying to keep me safe, I worry about the pain it will cause tomorrow when he returns to being cold, indifferent toward me. How much agony can I handle before I break completely?
