Unwanted Mate Of The Lycan Kings (by jessica hall)

Lycan Queen's Prey Chapter 45

~Zirah~

Later, as the deepest parts of night take hold, an unusual time for me to wake, Gnash's whimpering

rouses me from my slumber. My eyes open to see Gnash by the fireplace. A wave of panic crashes

over me, seeing him looming over his brother, Shadow. Hunter is frantically tugging on the blanket

trying to wake me, stopping when he notices my eyes open. Sitting up, Hunter looks at Gnash and

whines loudly. Shaking off my sleepiness, I stumble towards them, my body swaying under a sudden

bout of dizziness.

“Hey boy, what's wrong?” I try to sound soothing, my fingers gingerly sweeping through Shadow's fur.

His panting fills me with terror. Gnash nudges him, trying to get Shadow up, but nothing he does works,

not even when he nips his ear. Shadow just huffs a breath out, his lungs making a rattling noise as if he

is struggling to breathe.

Lurching back towards the bed, my hand falls onto Zeke's chest. “Zeke! Wake up!” I urge. He snaps

awake, the panic in his eyes mirroring the fear gnawing at my heart.

“Zirah?” he whispers, his voice raspy from sleep.

“Something's wrong with Shadow,” I manage to utter. Suddenly, vertigo washes over me, and my vision

blurs as I tumble onto the bed.

A veil of perspiration clings to my forehead, salty droplets streaking down my face. My heart is

hammering relentlessly against my ribs. The room morphs into a dizzying carousel around me while

Zeke's words seem to be drifting from a distance. He taps my face as I stare up at him, and a look of

relief crosses his features. “Shadow?”

“The same. Are you alright?” he asks. “I think I stood up too fast,” I admit.

“Dammit, where is Lyon?” His voice resonates with unmistakable worry, and his brows knitted in a deep Content rights by NôvelDr//ama.Org.

frown. A storm of queries whirls within my mind, spinning relentlessly as I try to wrestle focus back from

the disorientation. “He was only supposed to be an hour and a half away!” Zeke says, dialing Lyon's

number. “And why isn't Regan answering, damn it!” he growls.

Zeke's voice dwindles into an echo as I stagger into the adjoining bathroom, each step a monumental

task. I manage to fill a bowl with water, my hands trembling like leaves in the wind. Zeke paces

nervously. “I sent some scouts out to look for Lyon, I can't believe we slept so long,” he mutters,

punching in numbers into his phone. Reentering the bedroom, I urge Shadow to take a sip. His panting

breaths strike like arrows at my heart. “Come on, boy,” I coax, my voice a mere wisp of sound, shaky

and fragile. “I tried already,” Zeke says, coming over to me.

“Still no answer?” I ask, and he shakes his head.

Suddenly, a loud crash resonates from outside, jolting me out of my focus. A string of expletives

escapes Zeke's lips. “I'll send someone to get in touch with Regan; no one is answering at the castle

either or in the city; it’s almost like there is no service for some reason,” he states, already halfway out

of the door. A few seconds later, the noise of shattering glass is succeeded by an ominous silence –

telling me that something is terribly amiss.

I grind my teeth, rallying against the vertigo, and follow him onto the landing. The world oscillates

before my eyes, a sinister, spinning vortex. “Zeke,” I mumble, my stomach rebelling with a wave of

nausea. But before I can muster another word, I find myself pinned against the wall, Zeke's hand

forming a firm seal over my mouth. While he holds a finger pressed against his lips, his eyes bulge with

a silent warning that sends icy tendrils of fear snaking down my spine.

An animalistic growl shatters the silence. Gnash and Hunter, their fur standing on end, step out the

door beside me, and I look down. Both their eyes are on the stairs, and Zeke peeks down at them too.

With calculated steps, Hunter and Gnash move toward the stairs when a savage snarl leaves Gnash,

and they both surge down the stairs, leaving us in their wake.

“Go!” Zeke commands, nudging me back into the safety of the room. But terror anchors me in place,

the agonized whimper of Gnash ricocheting in my ears. “Gnash,” I manage to choke out, my fingers

grasping at the edges of my magic, but it slips away, leaving me exposed and powerless. I stare at my

hands, and so does Zeke before his eyes dart behind him to the stairs. "Go, I will keep them

distracted.”

“What?” I blurt, grabbing his arm. Zeke turns to say something when a strange look crosses his

features, his lips part, and he gasps loudly in pain.

Zeke crumples to the ground unexpectedly, a pained grunt tearing from his throat as he hits the ground.

“Zeke!” I panic, dropping by his side when he rasps, “Mandrake root,” he manages to wheeze, his body

sagging with a sudden heaviness. My hand darts out, desperately trying to help him, but my magic

fizzles instantly as a tidal wave of panic threatens to consume me.

An eerie laughter reverberates through the silence, sending shivers racing down my spine as my eyes

scan the place. A man emerges from the shadowy staircase, his eyes glinting with malicious

satisfaction. “Doesn't it suck being cursed? One falls, and they all follow,” he sneers with a gloating

grin.

Mobilizing every ounce of my remaining strength, I stagger over Zeke, bracing myself to confront the

intruder. However, my vision begins to tunnel, each breath a battle as a blurry figure looms larger.

“1…2… and down she goes,” the man's taunting laughter rings in my ears just as the floor rushes up to

greet me, a cloak of darkness descends upon my consciousness. “One king left, and we've taken down

the Lycan kingdoms," his words echo ominously as I surrender to the void, my senses ebbing away into

oblivion.