Page 9 of Prey of the Lycan Queen
I pull my teeth from his neck and look down at him. His thumb brushes my lips. “And if I refuse your brothers?” I ask.
“Then they die,” he tells me. My brows furrow when I feel the bond wrapping around every atom in my body, slithering under my skin like a serpent. But that is not all I can feel. Beneath the new emotions flooding in, it’s like a heavy veil has lifted as his curse breaks. As our bond fully forms the connection between us, I feel the darkness inside dissipating.
“How?” I murmur.
“You’re the seven virtues. You choose when we are redeemed, but first, we have to prove it.”
My lips purse at his words, unsure. “But you haven’t proven anything,” I tell him. He grabs my hand, placing it on his chest. “I proved I can love,” he whispers. “And now my fate is in your hands, just like my heart. You can reject us at any time, which would kill us. Can’t you feel it?” he asks. The moment he speaks the words, I do. It’s incomprehensible, and it shouldn’t be possible, but I feel it right there in my chest. “My life force is tied to yours,” he whispers.
“But why would you tell me that I have the power to kill you, that I can still reject you?”
“Because I want you to see me as worthy, Zirah. If not, then I don’t deserve you,” he purrs, tugging me down on him. He rolls on his side, tucking me against him.
As we lie entangled in each other’s arms, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve only added fuel to the fire that threatens to consume us both. Only time will tell, but for now, I find a small measure of comfort in the darkness of Regan’s embrace.
Chapter Five
My very essence called out to my mate. All along, the woman we’ve been fighting turned out to be the one we were searching for without even realizing it. Now, I am left desolate, empty, stripped bare of everything. My wolf is gone. Zirah hates me—and for good reason. My entire life has fallen in tatters around me, and all because I destroyed the one woman I was supposed to love.
“We still have the maze trials . . .” Lyon trails off, and my eyes move to him. He is nursing the rum bottle in the crook of his arm.
“She will not play a game now, Lyon. Not when she is the prize,” I tell him, climbing off the chaise and wandering over to him. I steal the bottle from his arm, taking a sip from it, then another and another until my throat is raw and burning, just like the blood boiling in my veins.
“Regan will convince her,” Lyon states, and I can hear the hint of animosity in his tone. He’s jealous. We both are. We felt the blood tie we share with him change. It’s weakened, but the fact it remains at all is proof she hasn’t broken his curse completely. If she had, he wouldn’t be tethered to us anymore, only her, and we’d be dead. So she hasn’t let him mark her, but it explains why her blood was like poison to us when we tried to mark her.
I fall back onto my chaise in the billiard room, and Lyon wanders over to the bar to fetch another bottle. He sways on his feet when I hear footsteps drawing nearer. Lyon looks in the door’s direction, and for a split second, I hold out hope that it is her. Instead, I am greeted with the look of my bewildered father as he stumbles into the room.
It is almost as if he doesn’t see us as he moves toward the bar. Seconds later, Malachi and James enter the room behind him. I smirk, spotting James wandering up to the bar looking bored and fed up.
“That is the last thing you need,” he growls, snatching the bottle from my father’s hand. Malachi rolls his eyes, falling onto the chaise beside me. I hold my rum out to him while I watch Uncle James fight with my father over another liquor bottle. Malachi takes the drink from me, downing half of it in three huge gulps. He offers it back to me, and I hold it up.
“I guess I’ll get another then.” I pass it back to him, and Lyon reaches above his head at the bar, chucking me a fresh bottle and saving me from having to get up while my father and uncle continue to squabble.
“Well, what do you suggest, James? Should I watch the fucking walls waiting for the grim reaper?” my father snarls, snatching the bottle from him. My uncle chucks his arms up in the air in frustration.
“You are too stubborn for your own good, Theo!” Not even Malachi gets away with calling him that. That was my mother’s nickname for him.
Turning my head back to Malachi, I find him staring absentmindedly at the bottle he’s clutching. I glance at Lyon, who dips his head at Malachi in a silent message, asking what is wrong with him. I shrug, unsure myself. I nudge him, and he startles. “These two already have you wanting to hang yourself,” I chuckle.
“No, I just can’t get over Shelley’s betrayal.”
“You mean the nanny from hell?” I ask.
Malachi sits back heavily. “He takes everything from me,” he grumbles, tipping the bottle to his lips as he glares at my father.
“Pretty sure Zirah killed her,” I remind him.
“No, he did. Taking your mother from me wasn’t enough. He had to take her too.”
“Oh, will you stop with your fucking pity party? She played us both!” my father snarls at him.
Malachi immediately blows up, jumping to his feet. “You told me you were finished with her!”
“I was! I haven’t touched her since . . .” My father trails off, his eyes going to me and Lyon briefly. Uncle James immediately moves to get between them as they go toe to toe. Lyon sighs, wandering over and stealing Malachi’s spot on the couch.
“Who’s your money on?” I ask.
“Malachi looks pretty pissed off. I reckon he’ll kick his ass. I haven’t seen him this mad before,” Lyon says. “You?”
