Traded To The Lycan King



"Shit, shit, shit," I mutter to myself as I crash through the brambles. Thistles and thorns slice through my skin as if I were running through barbed wire. My hoodie tears, catching on everything as I try to refocus myself.

I'm a fucking trained warrior and skilled tracker, damn it, but two dragons? At the same time? That's a tall order even for a top trained lycan. In their human form, they are stronger than us and their skin, depending on the type of dragon, can be as tough as the scales that line their dragon's body.

I cast my head down, ducking under a larger branch when the ground catches my eyes and I see I am coming to a rocky area. I break out of the bushes, a cry of pain as my hair tangles and rips from my scalp. A stinging reminder that I always have my hair slicked back for a reason.

I come to a sliding halt, my feet dancing over the loose slate like rock as I tumble to my knees just before the edge comes into view. Great. I ran directly onto a slick ledge of loud rocks. So far I am doing a terrible job of using what I know. But in my defense, waking up to two giant dragon men is not all that great for providing clarity rather than sheer panic.

I swing my head from side to side, looking for a way out, up or heck, even down should I need it. But there is nothing but more thorns and bushes. My lycan itches for freedom, hunched and waiting on the edge of my anxiety. The moment she is needed, she will take over. No need for me to even request or seek her out.

We have always been in sync with each other, but since losing Tyler, something changed. Instead of feeling like two separate beings sharing a space, we feel more unified. More like we are one and the same. Though honestly, it would be nice to not have to rely on her just yet.

I glance to the right, a groan escaping my lips as I take off in that direction. The shale under my feet makes me unsteady, but I push forward, choosing not to wait any longer for the dragons to find me due to indecision. The ground shakes under my feet and the rocks shimmy, my body shifting slightly as they vibrate toward the edge of the cliff.

"What the hell..." I mutter, squatting down, trying to get my body more steady as I try to rush forward.

I stop when my eyes lock on a heavy-footed, smaller dragon. He stops from side to side; the earth shaking with its heavy weight. I breathe in deep and a growl rumbles through my spine, vertebrates snapping in quick succession as my lycan comes to the surface.

I leap up; the rocks sliding out from under my feet, but I fly forward enough I can reach his leg. I cling to him, yanking myself around to his side. The jerk moves fast for a fat, stubby beast, his leg launching me into a bush. There is no time to waste as I lunge forward, swooping down to grab a triangular sharp rock.

The dragon rears his head up and I see the opportunity where his soft under chin meets his jaw. I catch him off guard with my lycan speed, hammering the rock into his neck before slipping my claws into his sliced flesh and dragging its along the inside exposing his throat as his deep red blood pours out along with a thick clear substance similar to the texture of oil.

I step away from him, my chest heaving from the effort before the wind picks up in the distance, the trees bending with its might, and I realize I am utterly fucked if I don't get lucky or run. There is nowhere to go, nowhere to hide as I rush to the edge of the cliff and spin, facing the dragon whose blood is hurriedly rushing toward the very edge where I stand.

Then I take a step back and drop. I dig my claws into the rocks, gliding down it for a few feet before coming to a stop where I hang and hope the other dragon doesn't look over the edge.

The blood over head splatters as the gusts from the other dragon's wings hit it and the other substance. It stops suddenly, silence filling the air while my heart beat fills my ears.

I watch the ledge above me, my body tingling with awareness and my lycan ready to leap up at a moment's notice. But nothing happens, no one makes a sound and the wind never comes back.

After a few moments, I choose to crawl back up, using my claws as I wedge them in the holes of the rock, making it almost to the tops when I slip. My body swings out, one claw clinging for dear life.

I can see the way the blood rushes down, melding with the dragon's fire substance, making it more vibrant and less angry red. It is mesmerizing watching it as it slips into the very spot I hang from and as if in slow motion, my hold loosens and suddenly, I am falling. I reach out, trying to grab hold of the rock again, but agonizing pain wracks my body as I hit a hard, jagged rock.

I can feel my rib muscles cave in, the air hissing from me as I wheeze and try to breathe. The coppery flavor of blood fills my mouth, my lycan trying to hold on until we crash to the end to save us.

Only instead of finding the bottom, the wall angles out acting like a sharp nail riddled swoop as I tumble and slam into every rock before rolling into the water where I dip into the frigid water.

I bob up and down, my lycan retreating as I heave for air, my chest shooting pains through all of me, making my toes curl as I try to force myself to swim. Instead, I grab a floating log, clinging to it with the last ounce of my strength. A half chuckle tears from my lips as I try to keep from crying. "I might be seeing you sooner than I thought, Ty." I whisper, looking up at where I hope he sits with the Moon and watches me with pride.

I float until the sun goes down; the river moving too fast for my weak state to swim to safety or out of it. As the moon rises over the water smile up, knowing if I died here, then I know at least tried. But I hear Tyler in my head, the very words he spoke to me as he was dying. And my heart sinks.

"Fuck." I grumble. Looking to the side, glimpsing smoke amongst trees.

I kick my legs, whimpering in pain as I slowly force myself to the side of the river where it slows. It takes far too long but I make it to the side, crawling out as my legs refuse to work, feeling like soggy over cooked noodles.

"Well, holy shit.” I hear Dean's familiar voice and anger rises in my chest. If I had any energy, I'd punch the fucker straight in the nose.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“Oh, hey dickface." I mutter with a heavy wheeze, looking up at him. "Found you."

"HAYES!" He roars, his face covered in shock as he doesn't move.

"Make yourself useful and help me up." I groan, pushing myself to my knees. Nausea overwhelms me as I groan and drop my head to the sand ground. "Oh, damn."

"It might be better if you stay lying down." He offers.

"What, so you can leave me behind to be found-"

"Ah, perhaps she isn't as terrible as we thought." Marcos interrupts me.

"Well, she found us," Hayes murmurs. "Which is more than I thought she would do. But she did find us relatively fast, given how much of a head start we had."

Everyone falls silent. The only sound

filling the air is the trickling of water and my ragged, sharp inhales of breath before I look up, the pain coursing through my veins. I meet Hayes dark, empty eyes, only to watch them furrow and slowly shift from mild amusement to quilt and confusion.

"What the fuck happened to you?" He insists like he has any right to care.

"Which time?" I gasp, "When I woke up to two dragons or when they chased me and I had to fight them and fell off a cliff?"

He takes a step forward, grabbing hold of my arm and back, helping me up. I shove him off the second his touch fizzles through my skin, shooting to my chest. I was trying to convince myself what I had felt that day was in my head. But there is no denying it now, not with the way my skin goosebumps and my pain lessens.

Hayes is my second chance, mate. But he doesn't recognize it.

He looks at me in surprise.

"I don't want your fucking help." I growl out.

"Look, we didn't mean for you to get hurt," He says sincerely, but I want him to hurt. In every damn way, I reach out for Marcos and he comes to help

me. I limp along with him and Hayes tries one more time to touch me. I yank away like he is salt to an open wound.

"I don't want your deformed hands on me." I hiss at him, relishing the way he rears back. But instead of getting angry or looking hurt, he nods, tucking his hand away before he pulls off his oversized shirt.

“At least take this, so you aren't naked." He grumbles, yanking over my head before he storms away. He stops for a second and glances over his shoulder at me.

"Bring her to the fire so I can clean up her wounds."