Page 26 of Destined to the Lycan (The Shadow Realms #3)

“You’re insane!” Lyall whispered before seeming to recover from his shock. “His venom will kill you, silly female. No one survives the venom from Ranael’s tail!”

“It won’t kill me if I get the second bite after his venom neutralizes my poison,” I said with confidence.

“I know how crazy this sounds. Truth be told, I thought the same thing the first time I heard about the nature of the only cure I could hope for in the time I have remaining. But the Weaver sent me. She taught me how to invoke Ranael’s protection and the steps to follow to achieve my goal. ”

His face completely shut down. He leaned back in his chair, almost as if he needed to put distance between us.

His eyes went out of focus, and he appeared lost in deep reflection as if trying to solve an impossible riddle.

My tongue burned with the urge to ask him what was going through his mind, but I held my peace.

After a few moments, he refocused on me. “Why would the Weaver send you on this impossible mission?” he whispered.

Although he addressed the question to me, it seemed to be more of him musing aloud a question to himself.

“You will not survive it,” Lyall said in a factual manner devoid of his previous taunting or malice.

“In fact, you will likely die before you even reach the plateau. And assuming you make it, Ranael will kill you, or you will die of his venom. The poison ailing you is spreading extremely fast. Even from where I sit, I can literally see it multiplying inside of you. There are still ten days left in your journey. But there are barely seven or eight days left in you. At this point, eating you would be showing you mercy.”

“You lie!” I shouted, even as despair surged within me.

Where he’d previously been deliberately needling and provoking me, this time, I sensed no deception from him.

“I never lie,” he said matter-of-factly. “You can feel it, too. The clock is ticking, and you’re running out of time.”

My shoulders drooped, and I blinked back the tears pricking my eyes.

I wasn’t ready to die. Beyond the fact that I was too young to already leave this world, I had just met my soulmate.

I hadn’t come this far only to fail now.

And why would the Weaver have seen me if I was a lost cause?

She sent me off on that mission because a path to success existed, however slim it might be.

And then it struck me.

I jerked my head up to look at him, an impossible hope blossoming in my heart.

“You… you could help me! You’re good with poison!” I swiftly added when he stared at me in confusion.

He recoiled and looked at me as if I was insane. “Why the fuck would I help you?”

“Because you can! Because it’s the right thing to do!” I replied as if it was self-evident.

“I’m a monster,” he countered in a tone that implied it should be obvious. “I don’t help people. I play with them until they go insane, or until I tire of the game. And then usually eat them.”

I held his gaze for a few seconds, and then the oddest sense of peace washed over me.

“No, Lyall,” I said in a calm but confident voice. “What you are is a doppelganger. Being a monster is a choice. You can choose to be good.”

He huffed, his expression making no doubt he thought my sickness affected my reasoning.

“Why would I? There’s no fun in that. Fear and pain taste like the nectar of the Gods.”

“So does happiness,” I challenged.

He made a disdainful gesture. “Happiness is too hard to elicit. Mortals are masochists. Even when an idyllic life is handed to them, they will turn away from it and seek the path of sorrow and hardship.”

“People make poor choices, it doesn’t mean that they crave pain,” I argued. “The harder something is to attain, and the more rewarding it is. Where’s the fun in just settling for the lowest hanging fruit all the time?”

“Because chasing after the fruit out of reach means that there’s a chance you will never claim it,” Lyall countered.

“And assuming you finally do, it will either have gone too ripe or fallen on its own to rot at your feet. But right now, I really want to hurt you while you’re still just perfect to be harvested. ”

I didn’t know how to react or respond to those words.

He meant them. The dark side of him hungered to unleash the violence that dwelled inside.

And yet, I wasn’t afraid. At least, not that he would cause me harm.

The same way an almost immediate connection had formed with Remus briefly after we met, I felt something similar—although different—with Lyall.

It made no sense.

Before I could come up with an answer, Lyall suddenly stiffened.

He slightly turned his face to the right, and his eyes went out of focus.

At first, I thought he was trying to listen to something beyond my human hearing.

Then his vertical pupils dilated, and I realized he was visualizing something in his mind’s eye.

Moments later, he refocused on me, his expression mostly unreadable, and yet a hint of anger had seeped back in.

His pupils narrowed back to a slit, and the redness of his eyes—which engulfed his entire sclera—appeared to take on a darker, more ominous hue.

“Your pet is looking for you,” he said in a neutral tone.

I perked up and would have leaned forward if the magical force pinning me to my chair hadn’t restrained me.

“Remus is near?!”

“Mmhmm,” he replied, his face initially unreadable before a malicious smile stretched his lips. “The pup is playing my game. Search as he may, he will never find you without my consent. In fact, I think I’ll feast on him first.”

“No! Let him go! He’s no threat to you,” I exclaimed.

“I’m well aware of that,” he said disdainfully. “But I’m hungry.”

“Then eat me ! Like you said, I won’t make it anyway. But he has his entire life in front of him. Please, leave him be.”

Once again, my words infuriated him. Even though the little voice at the back of my head shouted that I had nothing to fear from Lyall, I plastered myself against the backrest of my chair when he lunged forward.

Both his hands resting on the arms of my chair, his nails extruding in terrifyingly long claws, he stopped with his face inches from mine.

“You don’t fucking know him, and yet you would die for him?!” he hissed.

I swallowed hard but lifted my chin defiantly.

“Yes, I would,” I replied, holding his gaze unwaveringly.

“He took a major risk for me when no one else would. My survival was always a long shot. But at least he tried, and for a while he gave me hope when there was none to be found. So if I must die, I will gladly do it for him. But I refuse to be the cause of his death.”

The right corner of his upper lip quirked up in a snarl. A million different thoughts fleeted over his otherworldly features as he stared angrily at me.

“You assume it’s either him or you,” he said in a sickly-sweet voice.

“You can’t eat both of us!” I exclaimed, flabbergasted.

“Says who?” he challenged mockingly.

“Please, Lyall, just let him go,” I pleaded.

To my shock, the red hue of his eyes shifted, taking on a slightly bluish-red tinge. A drawn-out purr vibrated from his throat. A sensuous expression descended on his face, and his eyes flicked to my lips.

“I love the way you beg. Beg me again, Amara,” he whispered.

I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but instead, I caught myself complying.

“Please, Lyall. I beg you,” I whispered.

His purr resonated even more loudly. His upper lip quivered, as if he was fighting the urge to bare his fangs. It struck me that he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to kiss me or sink his fangs into me.

“I should just keep you,” he mused aloud.

Although I didn’t believe he had spoken those words for me, I still responded.

“You can’t keep me. I’m dying, remember?”

His eyes flicked to mine, and he stared at me with an intensity that left me feeling naked and exposed.

“I can keep you alive,” he said in a factual manner.

My heart skipped a beat. “You can cure me!”

He shook his head. “I did not say that. Only that I can keep you alive. I can counter the poison in you when it spreads.”

“Nine Hells! Why didn’t you say that sooner? I will buy that medicine from you!”

He snorted and shook his head. “No, silly female. It’s not something that can be sold,” he said before exposing his sharp fangs and slowly running his tongue over the right one. “I must bite you, likely once or twice a week.”

My shoulders slumped as the spark of hope fizzled. An angry growl vibrated through Lyall’s chest, startling me.

“Why are you sad? Don’t you want to live? I’m offering you a solution,” he hissed.

“But that’s not living,” I argued in a soft voice. “If I agreed, I would in fact be living in limbo and fully at your mercy. You could withhold your bite to punish me whenever I displease you or to coerce me into complying with whatever demands you make of me.”

“I may be a monster, but not that kind of monster,” he snarled. “I could make you happy, Amara. I can be anything you want, whenever you want. Even that pup you’re so fond of.”

Speechless, I stared in disbelief as his features appeared to melt like wax under intense heat.

Simultaneously, the lightning-shaped stripes under his skin glowed with great intensity, blinding me for the briefest second.

I blinked twice and then gasped when I found myself staring into Remus’s beloved golden eyes.

“Remus,” I whispered.

My mind knew better, but my eyes desperately wanted to believe the illusion. He leaned forward to kiss me. Every fiber of my being screamed for me to meet him halfway, but seconds before our lips would meet, I managed to avert my face. He stopped a breadth’s hair from my cheeks.

“Please don’t,” I whispered.

He hissed angrily and bared his teeth at me.

“What the fuck does he have that I don’t?” Lyall snapped. “I’d be a better healer and protector than that sick pup can ever be!”

“He’s my Twin Flame!” I exclaimed as if it was self-evident. “I’m not the female meant for you. Your soulmate is out there somewhere.”

He snorted with disgust and pushed away from me, straightening as he shifted back to his natural form.

“I’m a monster,” he said with self-deprecation.

“By choice, not by nature,” I countered. “There’s something beautiful in you. It shines through every time you cast aside your anger.”

“Flattery won’t work on me, human,” he said sternly.

“I never lie,” I replied, echoing his own words.

“Is that so?”

To my shock he grabbed my wrist angrily and sank his fangs in the inner side.

I cried out at the sharp sting. Then liquid bliss flooded my veins as he began to drink from me.

He wasn’t gorging but taking small sips.

Through the haze of euphoria provided by whatever he had injected me with, I stared in wonder at his divine beauty.

His eyes had completely lost their red color and were now the most beautiful shade of purple.

A mesmerizing light emanated from the lightning under his skin.

They seemed to slightly undulate, bathing him in a soothing halo.

Behind him, two beams of light protruded from his back vaguely forming the shape of a massive pair of ethereal wings.

He’s not a doppelganger.

Whatever he was, he undoubtedly possessed divine blood. Was he the offspring of a Fallen? Or the hybrid child of a doppelganger and an angel? But even as those thoughts fired off in my mind, I realized that he wasn’t actually feeding by drinking my blood. Lyall was plundering my memories.

I couldn’t tell how much time passed. It could have been seconds or hours. I’d been floating in too deep a state of well-being to keep track of such a menial concept. Lyall pulled his fangs out of my wrist and licked the puncture wounds. Fascinated, I watched them seal shut in a blink.

Lyall straightened and stood towering over me. My chest constricted upon seeing the air of deep sadness and resignation on his beautiful face as the angelic glow dimmed around him. What had he seen that left him this defeated?

“Two bites…” he muttered to himself. “The Weaver and her damn mind games…”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“Think carefully on her words,” Lyall said in a mysterious fashion. “They do not mean what you think.”

“What do you mean?” I insisted.

He stared at me quietly for a moment as if pondering how he would answer before shaking his head.

“It is time for me to go see your pup,” he said at last.

“Please, don’t hurt him!”

His anger flared again. To my shock, he fisted my hair on my nape and crushed my lips in a brutal kiss.

It lasted less than a second and felt more like punishment than an attempt at seduction.

His face an inch from mine, he locked eyes with me, their angry red hue making no mystery as to his current state of mind.

“What fate befalls the pup is up to him,” he snarled. “Pray that he makes the right choice.”

“What does that mean?”

He didn’t answer. He released my hair then marched resolutely out of the house, leaving me alone, confused, and distraught.