Page 71 of Lycan King's Claim
But then I smile, knowing that for this moment, I had given him a small flicker of hope that things might improve. He stares at my arm that escaped the covers. “I tucked you in, I swear it,” he shakes his head, tucking my arm back beneath the blanket. “Sorry, Love. I must have thought I did,”
Gratitude for his care and attention, but also a deep sense of sadness and frustration that I can't communicate with him in the way that I want to. But as my eyes slowly begin to close, I know that even if I can't speak, he understands me in his own way.
As he tucks me into bed once again, I wish I could tell him about the finger twitch and that I moved my arm. Maybe tomorrow I can try to do it again and he will see. Finally, he slips into bed behind me and pulls up the covers, snuggling in close to me. “It’s been a tough day today,” he murmurs softly.
39
I am jolted from sleep by the shrill cries piercing the night's silence. Disoriented, I blink against the darkness, wondering how I opened my eyes, trying to clear the fog from my mind. I briefly wonder if I’m dreaming, another shrill cry pierces the veil of sleep, dragging me from the depths of exhaustion, Anna has been incredibly whiny today and Xandros has been run off his feet. I pry my eyes open once again, blinking against the dim light filtering through the curtains. The wail comes again, rising in pitch and urgency. Anna's wails intensify, echoing in my ears, spurring panic to rise within me.
I turn my head. Beside me, Xandros remains still, his chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of slumber. Irritation pricks at me as I take in his tranquil expression. After the trials of yesterday, caring for both me and the baby, weariness clings to him like a second skin, and I am absolutely useless to him. Our daughter's cries split the early morning quiet. As her cries grow louder, I'm screaming to go to her, itching to comfort her.
Frustration courses at me that I can't go to her, when suddenly I move, trying to rouse my leaden limbs. Since King Vin hit me, it is as if my body has gone dead — I just moved once again. My hand hits Xandros' shoulder, my touch gentle despite the spike of frustration it took to move my limb. He murmurs something unintelligible, but does not wake.
Gritting my teeth, I grapple with the urge to scream. The cries are rising to a fever pitch, grating against my frayed nerves and my inability to move, frustrating me to no end. I have to get to her. Xandros needs rest, but our daughter needs comfort.
Planting my palms against the mattress, I suddenly push myself upright, my muscles burning with even that slight exertion, my muscles feel like lead. I pause, breathing hard, strands of hair falling across my eyes. Then, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, much to my own shock, feet meeting the cold floor. The chill of it shocks me fully awake, having thought I dreamt doing it.
I stand on trembling legs, heart racing. Step by agonizing step, I cross to the crib, each movement requiring singular focus and so much exertion. Reaching it at last, I clutch the side and gaze down at the scrunched, red face of our wailing child. A riot of emotions swells within me—relief, determination, bone-deep love. For so long I have craved doing this simple thing, tending to our child, helping my mate. And just then, I have done what seemed impossible. My arms shake as I try to hold on to the control of my body, trying to stay present within it.
Suddenly from behind me comes the rasp of my name. I turn my head to see Xandros sitting up, eyes wide with shock and concern. My voice scrapes past dry lips. “The baby.” Two words, but they conveyed everything. “Sienna?” he murmurs my name like it's a prayer while my legs shake. “Baby,” I repeat, my tongue feeling thick and even speaking has me sweating profusely.
His face softens. He starts to rise just as my legs give out and I crumple to the floor. But he is there, catching me before I hit the ground. Scooping me into his arms, he carries me back to bed. As he tucks the blankets around me, his hands linger, touch reassuring. “You moved, you talked, you…” words suddenly fail him as he tries to comprehend what is going on while I do the same.
I tremble in the aftermath, drained completely. But I moved. I reached our daughter. For now, it is enough. Xandros presses a kiss to my temple, a silent promise. Together, we will weather each challenge as it comes.
Xandros turns to tend to our still crying baby. He lifts her from the crib, cradling her tiny body against his broad chest.
“Shhh, little one,” he murmurs. “Your mama worked so hard to get to you.”
He sways gently, patting Anna's back in a soothing rhythm. Her cries quiet to soft hiccups. Xandros' face softens, his eyes filled with wonder, as they always did when looking at his daughter.
He brings her over to the bed, where I lay spent but hopeful because I moved, I had control and this time Xandros saw it, he had proof I am still here, that I haven't left him. I just hope that is enough for him to keep me.
“Here is your mama, safe and sound,” Xandros whispers to the baby as he lays her next to me. I try to move, but now my frustration is gone; I can't seem to.
“Look at our daughter, she is looking at you,” Xandros orders.
I stare into her scrunched face, damp now from tears. But she is calm, comforted by her father's strong arms. He lifts my hand, grabbing my finger and brushing it down her petal soft cheek, and her little hand grasps at it.
Xandros stretches out on the other side of Anna, enveloping us both in his protective embrace. His steady heartbeat and warmth lull me. As my eyes drift closed, I hear him rumble softly.
“Rest, my mate. Our family is together, I have her. Just as I have you. I won't give up on you. Ever, Sienna, I can feel you fear that, don't, I feel you coming back, and now you've proved it,”
His words wrap around me like a soothing balm. “I love you, Sienna, always have, always will.”
40
The sun cast its golden rays over the lush gardens, illuminating the vibrant flowers and casting dappled shadows on the ground. Sienna sits on a soft picnic blanket, her eyes following baby Anna as she crawls with newfound curiosity among the grass and autumn leaves. I can't help but admire Sienna's progress over these last six months; she has fought to regain her mobility and speech through grueling therapy, inch by inch reclaiming the life we were meant to share. Despite being frustrated once she moved that night, she hasn't given up. It was one thing for me to command her to move but to regain control of her body is another.
As I watch her, the urge to mark her swells within me, an unquenchable desire that will solidify our bond. But I hold back, fear gnawing at my heart. The last time I marked her, it nearly destroyed her. What if this time was no different? My love for her is a double-edged sword, capable of both healing and hurting in equal measure. And yet, Sienna never stops trying to close the distance between us, seeking intimacy despite the shadows of our past.
"Anna!" Sienna calls out, her voice laced with concern as our daughter crawls too far from her to grab her quickly. But before either of us can react, Javier appears, scooping up our little one and returning her to the safety of our picnic blanket.
"Thank you, Javier," Sienna says, gratitude shining in her eyes.
"Of course," he replies when I open the mind link up. "Did you find it?" I ask him.
"Yes, you left it in your office on the bookcase," he replies, tossing me a small velvet box as Sienna tries to pry the blades of grass from our daughter's fists she is hellbent on trying to taste. My heart beats frantically and catches in my throat as I recognize the engagement ring box I'd thought I lost. He smirks then bends down, messing up Anna's curls. "I leave you both, I will call out when dinner is done," he winks at me before turning to leave.
