Traded To The Lycan King



Kyra's lips purse as she breathes softly through them, her hair still caked to her forehead and cheeks from where she was sweating. I want nothing more than to sweep the strands from her face, caressing her still flushed skin. But I hold back, refusing to allow myself these small stolen moments.

Then again, if stolen moments are the only moments we are destined for, is it wrong to act on them? She mumbles as she adjusts her position with my arm up, allowing her to move as she twists her body toward me. Her chin tilts up, putting the full force of her spectacular freckles on display.

There is no force strong enough in the world to stop me as my fingers gently brush over her brow, freeing her face of the sweat dried hair. Heavens, she is so perfect. More so than when she left. Kyra would have worn me down in a week had she stayed. My ability to tell her no, to see her in pain, would have seen me rejecting any mate that came my way.

I don't know if I did the right thing by rejecting her and ignoring her. I was trying to protect her from the hurt of knowing she wasn't fated to be mine. That little voice in the back of her head saying there is someone else better for me than her. And I was trying to save myself from the fear of finding someone else while I was with her.

"You stayed," she whispers, startling me as I yank my hand back and clear my throat.

"I thought you wanted me to?" I ask, a nervousness causing me to swallow a growing lump in my throat. What if she asked only because she was poisoned and she doesn't remember?

"No, I know it's just that..." She frowns, and looks down at the baby in her arms. “I just figured you would run off after we fell asleep."

"You were shivering." I lie, clearing my throat yet again, and I sit up and look away. Why am I feeling like I need to lie to her? Kyra is well aware that we are mates, I have told her as much and it seems a mately duty to do as she asks.

"I must have been cold." She whispers, but I can hear the doubt in her voice. When I turn to look at her, she is sporting a ghost of a smile. Her eyes watch me closely, peering through me as if she can read my every thought. Kyra knows why I stayed, and she knows why I lied.

"Probably." I mutter, pushing myself up to stand as I turn and look for something to do, anything to do.

"What do you think was used to poison me?" She asks, sitting up as the baby fusses, flailing his little arms.

"That is a good question." I mutter, moving around the trees to find the dead wizard we had discarded earlier. I squat down, pushing the leaves around, looking for any sign of foul play. There is nothing, not a vial or even a familiar scent to the one on him. Until I move closer, leaning down near his head. A thick ooze leaks from the back of his skull.

"What the hell?" I mutter to myself, gripping his rigid shoulders and pushing him over. He has been dead for far too long for something to be bleeding out of him. The memory of the zombie wolves comes to mind, and I wonder if there is now a similar situation with the wizards. The fae have divided, so it is not impossible.

A strong scent slams into me, causing me to fall back on my ass and gag as I drop him and scramble away. The putrid smell is worse than death, but that of a carcass used to grow spores and attract bugs for mating. And yet, there is a floral hint, one I know but struggle to place as I reach out and hesitantly touch it.

It burns on contact; the ooze sizzling my skin as I hiss and wipe it on the grass, shaking my hand. I look at it with care, my nose scrunched in disbelief as I inspect not only my injured finger, but the smell one more time.

"What is that?" Kyra asks. She is now standing, watching me from behind a tree, the baby in her arms.

I pull my brows together in deep thought. I almost think it is wolfsbane in some form or another, but why does it burn now and not before when I sucked it from her wound? Fuck, why does nothing make sense anymore?

"I'm not sure," I huff, my frustration only growing as I stand and storm over to her. Kyra's eyes flare as she takes a cautious step back before I reach out and take the baby into my arms. The infant boy fusses, the tiniest pout on his little lips before his dark eyes close, and he lets out a screech of dislike.

"What are you doing?" Kyra panics, reaching for me as I spin away from her.Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

“I am looking him over to see if he is hurt, Ky. To make sure he doesn't have any of this shit on him." I mutter, peeling back the fabric wrapped around him. His little fists fly up as if he is ready to fight, which only makes me smirk. This little guy came into this world the center of a war and is ready to swing at his foes.

"He is fine," Kyra assures me, her hand on my back as she hobbles closer, trying to peek around my arm. "I have checked him over numerous times already. Just give him back to me. Please."

The panic in her voice, the way it quivers as she clenches onto my arm, has me turning to look at her. I take a step back, giving us space as I sigh and try like hell not to give her a look of pity.

"I think it is best for me to take him for a little while."

“No, I am fine. Now give him back. What if you drop him, or you are too rough, or maybe your scars will scare him?" She seems frantic, like she had been before, back when she was in her daze and convinced I was her dead mate and this was her own child. My heart breaks as tilt my head and exhale, my lip curling down in distress.

"Kyra." I say softly and she looks at me, taking her eyes off the baby for a moment and she blinks.

"Shit. I'm sorry about saying that about your scars. It's just that..."

I take a step closer to her, then another, then I reach out and cup her cheek with my deformed hand.

"Look at me." I say, demanding her undivided attention. "This is not your baby. He has a family, one he belongs with, and when we unite them, it will end this war."

She tries to argue, but I rub my thumb over her lips, quieting her. Kyra's eyes twinkle in the way only a bond can make them twinkle. She knows, she knows and has been lying.

"I am not Tyler." The memory of her calling me by his name, aching in my chest.

"I know," she whispers, tears filling her eyes. "Hayes-"

"And this is not our baby." I say, making sure she understands.

"I know," her voice is soft, more of a breath.

"And we are mates." I tell her, no longer asking if she feels it but demanding that she admit it. Her eyes fall closed, a tear streaking down her cheek.

"I know that too." She tries to look away. "Everything feels...He feels like he is mine, and whatever that was, it made me - The truth got skewed and

|="

My face softens, and I drop my hand, gently pressing the baby into her arms. She doesn't take her eyes off of me, her lip caught between her teeth as she searches my face for something.

"We will deal with the mate bond when we have time. But for now, when you need the truth, look to me like you used to. Trust me, like I never hurt you."

She nods, more tears falling.

"Now, we need to get out of this area. I don't like what this asshole has in him."

"What does that mean?" Kyra asks, looking past me.

“It means there is some weird shit going on in these woods, and unfortunately for us, Lycans aren't impervious to the type of magic or weird shit going on around here. In order to keep you two safe, we need to move."

She frowns down at her leg as | reach down and scoop her up, baby and all, into my arms. Her leg still needs more time to heal, even with it making progress. A broken lege needs more than a day and with the constant contact with a mate, she Will heal faster.

"I can walk," she says, and I scoff.

"Very slowly with that leg and I'd rather move at a decent rate." I mutter as she scoffs, but I see the smile on her lips, which brings one to my own.

She knows we are mates, and she admitted it. And her trust may be temporary, but at least I have it for a little while. Now I need to focus on getting her safe. Her and this little being that will save thousands of lives across many species. C belongs to