Page 10 of Lycan King's Claim
“Let her go, Xandros. Walk away. I’ll handle her,” he says. I swallow, my gaze drawn to Sienna, who’s still clutching her throat, her body wracked with harsh coughs.
“Are you alright?” Javier’s voice sounds distant as if he’s speaking from underwater. I blink, my vision blurring before I finally manage a nod.
“I’m fine,” I snap before turning on my heel and storming out of the room, the scene of my atrocities left behind.
7
The heavy weight of time has dragged on for a torturous week since Xandros locked me away in this suffocating room. He hardly visits, and when he does, it is usually to scold me. Or to remind me of how I betrayed him.
Yet he forgets he betrayed me first. How each night, I was the one sitting by his door, my bond screaming for him while he lay with another. At the same time, he pretended to be with her.
What did he expect? That I would go along forever being the woman in the shadows and not the one on his arm? That I could live for eternity as the one watching from the sidelines?
I never asked for this, and I know he didn't either. If he couldn't be with me, then he should let me go. Not hold me hostage, forcing me to endure the agony of a bond I never wanted—rotting away in this room, tending to the woman who despises me, who took the place that is rightfully mine.
Toby is a familiar comfort to an old life before Xandros; he was the first ray of light after the storm blew through and destroyed everything, the only thing making me hold on when I just wanted to sink to the bottom of the abyss. You underestimate how much you crave kindness, how much you crave attention. You live in the shadows so long you crave stepping into the light. Xandros thinks because he showed a few moments of affection that I should drop at his feet and cling to remainders of a bond that has done nothing but become the bane of my existence, the very thing killing me.
This room has become a prison, more so than before, because he's stripped me of everything, leaving nothing. Only the bed, and a change of clothes that poor Javier is forced to wash each day. Javier's the only one allowed to enter the room besides Xandros, except now he is also silent, reminding me just how much control Xandros has. I'm not even allowed the luxury of his voice anymore, commanded not to speak to me.
Once again, I am fighting with the flint, trying to warm the room that has turned so cold it matches Xandros’s indifference. "Javier, can you start the fire please? He won't find out you helped me unless you tell him," I plead.
The room is so cold, my teeth are aching from chattering all night. I pull the blanket tighter around me. The emptiness of the room has only served to make it colder as if his punishment isn’t enduring enough. He even had the hot water shut off; not even a shower could offer me warmth.
"Maybe you could ask him for a space heater?" I suggest rubbing my hands together and breathing on them. Still, I'm answered with his silence.
Grabbing the flint, I strike it. The logs are too thick, and I have nothing for kindling. I chew my lip, staring down at the one book he left me. It's the only thing I own that feels personal, the only thing keeping me company since I’ve been back. I've read it every day. The only other way to pass the time is staring out the windows that never open.
Reaching for the book, I open it, trying to decide which pages to sacrifice. The cover warned and crinkled, the page edges worn from constantly reading the same thing over and over again. "I guess I've read it that much I could almost recite it," I laugh.
"So a few pages… oh, I don't need the title page or copyright one," I announce, tearing them out. I scrunch them up, jamming them between the logs. After four or five attempts of trying to start it, I see a spark catch the paper; I lean in, staring at the spark, blowing gently on it, trying to get it to ignite. I see the first flicker of flames and shriek excitedly, banging my head on the brickwork encasing the fire.
Reaching out, I snatch my book hastily, flicking through pages praying for a blank one, knowing there isn't one, so settling on chapter 16, I tear out the page I'm willing to sacrifice. I hover the page over the small flame before moving it to some loose bark. I stare at the logs and nearly shout when I hear the crackle of wood, the log catching for the first time in a week. I stare, amazed, small victories, Sienna, small victories.
I hold my hands over the flames, not too close, though, worried about suffocating it; once it's crackling away and not going to go out, I move out of the fireplace covered in soot; even my blanket is now ruined in my excitement of heat. I dust the edge off, whining about how I will clean it when Xandros picks up my book, and his scent hits me while he tosses it into the fireplace.
"No!" I shriek, trying to grab it from the flames, my fingers burn, and I hiss, trying to save it when my blanket catches alight. I frantically slip out of the blanket, slapping the fabric and putting it out, only to turn to find my book, just another flaming ember. My hands shake as rage consumes me, and tears burn my eyes. "Did Javier sneak that into you? I told him to have this place cleaned out," Xandros snaps at me. I don't reply; I just stare at my burning book. It's gone.
"Sienna!" he snarls before grabbing my arm. "Did Javier give that to you?" I shake my head, and he lets me go and growls angrily. "Go clean yourself up. You look like shit," he snarls. I pull my blanket tighter around me. I am not getting in that shower while it's cold. Instead, I move to sit next to the fire. He never stays long, and the nagging of my bond to be near him over the last week has ebbed away like it knows not to get excited or feel hopeful, knowing it will end in disappointment.
"Did you not hear me? I said clean yourself up." I look up at him, my eyes cold and distant. "I heard you," I say softly. "But I don't want to." I know what he's doing; he's trying to break me and strip away any sense of defiance until all that's left is a meek, obedient woman who will follow his every command.
I reluctantly stand, the blanket still wrapped around my shivering body. Xandros narrows his eyes at me. "You will do as I say," he growls, taking a step forward. His hand reaches out to grab my arm, and I flinch away, causing him to grab air instead.
Despite the shivering that wracks my body and the fear that courses through me at the thought of defying him again. "No, there's no hot water," I say quietly, looking down at my feet.
"I know, I turned it off," he snaps. " Do I need to remind you of your place?"
My anger bubbles up within me, despite the fear twisting in my gut. "And where is my place, Xandros? Trapped in this cold room with nothing—just a burning book and my own thoughts?" I snap.
His eyes narrow dangerously, and for a moment, I regret my words. Then he smirks, and it's like a cold wind blows through the room. "Your place is wherever I decide it to be," he snarls angrily, taking a step toward me.
I take a step back, his aura changing, rippling out. His face morphs into that of something I don't recognize, something sinister, as his eyes change, darkening to a reddish hue, black poisonous veins wriggling under his skin, and his canines elongate. "Xandros?" I murmur.
For a moment, we stand there, locked in a standoff, my heart pounding against my ribs. Xandros steps forward again, his face contorted with anger. "You forget your place," he spits. "I own you." Xandros growls and lunges forward, grabbing me by the throat. I struggle against him, trying to push him away.
"You're mine," he snarls in my face. My hands clutch his, and my head feels on the verge of exploding. "Xandros," I gasp, my nails digging into his hands.
Darkness begins to close in around me, and I feel myself growing weaker by the second when Rehan's voice flits through my head. "Can't breathe, you can't fight," Well, I must say I am about to prove him wrong, sort of.
