Page 12 of Lycan King’s Claim (Lycan King’s Reign Duet #2)

"You heard Xandros," I protest, my voice laced with a mix of confusion and apprehension. I glance at the entry in here, worried he'll return any second to drag me back to my room. "He's right, I can't defend myself against him, I stand no chance against a woman who hates me."

Adina offers a knowing smile as she moves toward a mini arena constructed from mats, her steps purposeful and assured. "I did, and you froze. Not because you're no good—because my son scares you." Her words cut through the air, sharp and undeniable.

I have no argument. She sees right through me.

"I've watched you train, saw it on the footage a few times."

"Footage?"

She nods. "Rehan, the bag. That emblem is a camera. He was worried I’d catch him and wanted proof to back up his reasoning. Turns out you and my husband weren’t up to anything sinister." She shrugs, stepping onto the mat. "You’re a quick learner. My husband, however, is afraid of hurting you."

"And let me guess, you're not?" Arms folded, I meet her gaze.

"Don't pretend you wouldn’t enjoy beating me to a pulp. Go for it. I’m giving you permission." She waves me forward.

An eyebrow lifts.

"Don't act like you haven’t thought about it."

"I'm not fighting you, Adina." A shake of my head. She’d use it against me later.

"Maybe Xandros is right. You don’t stand a chance."

I turn fully toward her, arms crossed.

"You’re trying to bait me."

"Is it working?" A wicked smile plays on her lips. "Come on, Sienna. There must be something you want to get back at me for. Me clawing your face, for one."

"Or maybe for putting you in the dungeons? Or letting Carina torment you."

"I'm not doing this with you, Adina."

"Exactly, you're not doing anything at all, just like you didn't do anything when Carina was draped all over his lap, or when he paraded her around like she was made of gold while you were the trash he kicked in the gutter," she mocks.

"No, wonder your uncle sold you, he knew you were a little bitch," she adds. I spin to face her. "Did Xandros tell you that?" I snap at her.

"I have my sources." she shrugs.

"Javier!" I accuse, knowing he finds stuff for Xandros.

"No, it wasn't Javier, I've kept watch on you over the years, waiting for you to come of age. Must have been really tiring constantly working to cover his debts," she tells me. I swallow, preferring not to remember.

"It's not the first time he sold you," she tells me.

My mind goes back to the first time he tried to sell me.

To Mal of all people. Only once I was delivered to him, he saw how young I was.

I think back to that night. I had been napping after school when Mal's men kicked in the back door.

Busted it right open, jolting me awake. Men stormed the house looking for my uncle.

I never should have looked over that banister, the moment I did they spotted me, half asleep, still in my school uniform.

"What's your name?" the man snarled while another crept up the stairs.

I didn't know what to say, so I shook my head and tried to run back into my room.

Only they broke the door off the hinges, dragging me downstairs while they waited for my Uncle to return.

I still have the scars from where they burned me with their cigarettes.

However, when he didn't return, they dragged me to Mal's club, only to learn he was at Toby's bar.

I was a gangly 14-year-old, Mal's men created a scene at his bar when they dragged him out drunk like always.

When Mal learned he had no money left, they beat the crap out of him, only Toby stomped in, pissed off because Mal's men had broken one of his pool tables.

When he spotted me cowering in the corner of the room, my uncle bloody on the office floor pleading with Mal to take me for his lousy $600 dollar debt. Toby had tossed money at Mal and told him to forget about the pool table.

I thought Toby was going to kill me or worse—pimp me out. Instead, he dragged me outside and dropped me home.

The next time I saw him was two years later. I was searching for another job. The deli I worked at after school had shut down after the owner died. The power had been cut for a week, my uncle had spent every cent on alcohol, and I had nothing. I applied for a job in the kitchens.

They turned me down the moment they heard my last name. Same as every other place.

The only reason I got the job at the deli was because the owner, paralyzed from the waist down, had been desperate.

As I was leaving, Toby recognized me.

He put me on staff, ignoring the chef’s disapproval. When I was old enough, I started working the bar alongside him.

I shake the memory away, anger simmering that Adina could drag it back up so easily.

"Or the time he sold you to Mal, before you came here. Although, I don't think a Draven is worth the air they breathe."

The taunt makes me snarl. I swing at her.

Adina jumps back and laughs. "I wonder if my son will let you watch them on their wedding night, maybe he'll let you join?" Adina sneers and I charge at her. "It's too bad really, if Carina had let me kill you in the first place, this never would have been an issue."

Her words hit a chord because I wish she had, she killed my parents, yet I was the one sentenced, sentenced to a life of misery with my uncle only to escape that into a nightmare of a mate bond.

"Use your anger," she growls, and I glare at her.

A surge of determination rises as Adina points to the padded arena, beckoning me forward.

Stepping onto the cushioned surface, I charge. She sidesteps, her elbow cracking straight into my nose. Recovering, I swing. The punch misses.

Another. And another. Each strike evaded, leaving me momentarily breathless.

She waves me forward. "You can do better."

A growl rumbles from my chest. This time, I kick. She catches my foot, blocks my elbow. Astonishment flickers through me as she moves effortlessly, fluid and precise.

Undeterred, I attempt another blow. It slips past her, out of reach. Annoyance burns, mixing with anger as I keep swinging.