Page 43 of Lycan King's Claim
“Have you got a phone? I'll give you my number,” Tasha says, rummaging in her bag for a notepad and pen. Sienna's hands fidget behind her back as she speaks,
“I'm not… I don't have my phone anymore.” Tasha frowns, casting a glance at me.
“Well, wait, take mine,” Tasha insists, holding out her own device. “You remember work's number, right? I'll use the work cell.”
As I watch the exchange between the two women, I can't help but feel an ache inside, a crushing weight pressing on my chest. The laughter we share is nothing more than a hollow echo, a pale imitation of the genuine happiness that once filled her life.
My gaze lingers on the curve of her cheek, the delicate arch of her brow, and I wonder if there will ever come a day when she looks at me without fear or suspicion.
“But you won't have a phone,” Sienna argues gently, her eyes darting between Tasha and me. Her reluctance to accept the offered device speaks volumes at how much she fears angering me, she could have asked for mine to put her friend's number in; I can tell she wants to ask but holds back.
“Ah, I can use the work cell, no biggie. I bought the bar off Toby,” Tasha explains with a dismissive wave of her hand, trying to put Sienna at ease. She extends the phone once more, but Sienna's gaze flickers nervously in my direction, seeking approval or perhaps fearing repercussion.
I reach into my pocket, feeling the weight of unease settle upon me like a cloak as I unlock my own phone. “What's your number? I will get her phone on the way home,” I assure them both. Sienna's eyes widen slightly, and she chews her lip, caught off guard by my unexpected offer.
Tasha rattles off her number, and I type it in. As I press the buttons, I notice Sienna's lips moving silently, her eyes never leaving the screen, as if she's trying to memorize the digits in case I delete them later.
“See, all set,” I say softly, forcing a smile onto my face as I show Sienna the newly saved contact. “You two can catch up whenever you want.”
As we prepare to leave, I watch the exchange between Sienna and Tasha. An invisible barrier separates me from their world, and I suddenly understand what it must be like for Sienna being trapped in mine. She certainly isn't as carefree, unfiltered as she is when speaking with this woman, yet she is careful and wary of every word she utters back home.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask Sienna, my voice gentle as I offer her my hand. She hesitates for a heartbeat before placing her delicate fingers in mine, her touch like a caress as I lead her out of the restaurant.
21
The car engine hums softly as we drive home from dinner, Xandros remaining quiet most of the drive. I couldn't stop myself from regretting how much I had drunk; my head feels foggy and clouded. No matter how hard I try, I can't remember the last three digits of Tasha's number. My heart sinks as I consider the slim chance that Xandros will ever let me see it again on his phone. Sighing, I give up on trying to remember and find myself sinking into a depressive state.
My thoughts drift to Tasha, and how much I missed her. We have known each other since elementary school, and I know deep down that I will never have a friendship like that again—not with Xandros controlling me. As if sensing my thoughts, he breaks the silence. “You never told me Tasha was a vampire,” he states, his voice flat.
I hesitate for a moment before mumbling my response, “I didn't think it mattered, it's not like I will see her again, and if I do, it will always be under conditions. You don't need to worry, she won't hurt me,” I know my chances of Xandros letting me talk to her were slim to none.
“How do you know a vampire anyway?” he asks, curiosity lacing his tone. I can feel him studying me, waiting for an answer.
“She used to be my next-door neighbor when I was a kid. She lived with her mother next door. When her mother died, she moved across town to live with her grandmother,” I explain, a small smile forming on my lips as memories resurface. “We kept in touch, and I used to run to her house next door when I was in trouble with my uncle. Her mother used to hide me.” I laugh at the memory, but the sound holds a tinge of sadness.
“When did she move away?” Xandros probes further.
“When I was seven years old, we hardly saw each other until I started working at Toby's.” My heart constricts as I say Toby's name, fully expecting Xandros to explode with anger. Instead, his knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.
“Very unusual combination of friendship, a human, and vampire,” he mutters. I can't help but agree. “Tasha didn't have many friends, and well, I had none because of my parents. Beggars can't be choosers,” I tell him.
“So you hung out at work?” he asks, and I shake my head. “No, mostly we video chat. She would lend me credit, not that I ever paid her back. She always worked weird hours, and I always had to be home before dark unless I wanted to become someone's dinner on the night shift.” I shudder at the thought of the danger lurking in the city streets at night.
“We used to race each other to read books. She is a big reader too. We would both borrow the same book from the library, until my uncle burned my books, and they banned me from the library. And I couldn't afford to buy them with my uncle's debt being paid off and trying to save for the seekers.”
“Seekers?” Xandros asks, but I pretend not to hear, knowing I messed up mentioning them.
“Tasha is also a nerd, so even when I got kicked from the library, Tasha would buy them with her check and read a chapter. When she usually passed by on her way to work, she would drop the book to me in the foyer. I'd grab it on the way home from work and return it to our hiding hole the next day.”
“You two seem close,” Xandros states, and I can feel his gaze.
“We were, are, I guess. But I didn't see her the week before I met you. She was off visiting her father. He lives in one of the vampire kingdoms,” I explain to him, my voice trailing off as the car pulls into the driveway.
“What did you mean about the seekers?” Xandros asks me as the car stops. I chew my lip, knowing what I mentioned is illegal. “I used to put my tips in a box under the floorboard in my room; I was saving up to buy my ticket. The seekers sometimes smuggle humans out that want to leave the Lycan Kingdom, not that they have a good track record,” I tell him.
“Then why risk it? If you were caught; that is punishable by death,” Xandros reminds me.
“Because what future did I have here, forever paying off uncle Sven's debts, being sold to Mal?” I ask. Xandros seems to think for a second and nods.
