Page 41 of Lycan King’s Claim (Lycan King’s Reign Duet #2)
T he sun pours a vibrant glow through the towering windows of the lavish conference room, illuminating every intricate detail and drenching the expansive table in an ethereal golden haze. Sitting dominantly at the head, my fingers tap an impatient rhythm against the gleaming wood.
Across from me, a man, dressed in what he probably considers his finest attire, goes on incessantly about his ambitious plans for a new business venture in the city.
I'm barely listening, my mind occupied with Sienna.
The intoxicating memory of her deep moans from this morning, the electrifying sensation of her body quivering beneath mine, and the bewitching scent of her that lingers in my senses, driving me to the brink of distraction.
“Your Highness?” The man's voice, imbued with a hint of irritation, jerks me back to the opulent surroundings. Our eyes meet, and I muster a courteous nod, masking my deep yearning for my mate.
“My apologies,” I murmur, summoning a smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes.
“Please, proceed.” Slyly, I retrieve my phone from my pocket, firing a brief message to Javier, inquiring about Sienna.
His reply is swift: she's resting, feeling under the weather.
A pang of anxiety pierces me, and the restless stirrings of my Lycan amplify the unease.
The meeting drags on, every tick of the ornate clock intensifying my concern.
A disconcerting sensation gnaws at me—our bond, that once-powerful link with Sienna, feels eerily distant, like a dying ember in a once roaring fire.
As the man finally wraps up, relief washes over me.
“I'll ensure the contracts are sent to you,” I assure him, barely hiding my haste to leave.
The vast palace halls, usually a testament to grandeur and history, blur into insignificance as I stride toward my sanctuary– Sienna.
But a nagging responsibility halts me—I must send that damned contract.
Stalking off toward my office, amidst ancient books that line the walls and elegant artifacts, I search my folders, growing frantic.
However, as the files spill from my desk onto the floor as I search it, a peculiar envelope catches my eye—hospital insignia.
I tear it open, a potent mixture of curiosity and dread surging within.
“Ah! Found it!” Javier’s voice pierces the heavy silence, brandishing the elusive contract. “Hidden in plain sight, on the bookshelf! Honestly, Xandros, how do you even function amidst this rubbish?”
I barely register his words, transfixed by the revelations in the letter. The world seems to sway as my mother enters, her face a mask of guarded concern.
“She's pregnant,” my voice is a broken whisper, the enormity of past wrongdoings weighing down on me. Each altercation, every harsh word, and action is magnified in light of this revelation.
My mother’s eyes dart anxiously between Javier and me. Her behavior rings alarm bells in my head, and my eyes narrow in suspicion. “Did you know?” The question, laced with accusation, hangs in the air.
She visibly wilts under my intense gaze, voice trembling. “We discovered it just last night. Sienna wanted you to know on her terms. She wanted to tell you herself, she promised me she would.”
“Yet she didn't!” My growl, filled with a torrent of emotions, echoes ominously. The urgency to find her, to right my wrongs, propels me out of the office, only to be met with her unsettling absence.
The weight of this realization presses heavily on me.
With every breath, I feel the burden of my past actions, every mistake I’ve made amplified tenfold.
The radiant afternoon sun streaming through the large window has lost its brilliance, now merely a harsh reminder of the time I've lost. When my mind goes back to last night and the strange energy she radiated, her strange behavior.
“I need to find her,” I say abruptly, my voice urgent. My mind races, trying to piece together every interaction we’ve had, every moment we shared in the past weeks. The signs, the emotions she tried to hide—all becoming alarmingly clear.
“Wait, Xandros,” Javier stops me, holding out the contract he was searching for earlier. His worried gaze fixed on mine, “Do you really think confronting her now, with all the turmoil you’re feeling, is the best idea?”
But I’m already moving, a force propelling me forward, though my heart is heavy with dread. The vast corridors of the castle echo my hurried footsteps.
The exquisite art, the mesmerizing statues, the lush drapes that line the walls—all of it becomes inconsequential. Only Sienna matters.
Passing by my old chambers, I'm met with silence. I hesitate for a moment, my heart thumping loudly in my ears as I finally come to a stop outside the door. The stillness is unnerving. I knock softly, then harder, calling out her name. But there’s no response.
A rising sense of panic grips me. What if she’s hurt?
Or worse, what if she’s left? I push it open, and my eyes scan the room, only I don’t see her.
Wandering to the bathroom, I push the door in to find the bathroom empty; I check the closet, also empty, when my eyes fall on the open window.
No, she is pregnant, she wouldn’t, I think, as the unease grows in my gut.
“Javier!” I bellow, my voice echoing through the hallways.
He appears almost instantly, “What is it?”
“She's not in her room,” I reply, struggling to mask my growing desperation.
His eyes scan the room. “No, she said she was going to lie down.” he insists and checks for himself.
“I will go check the staff areas,” he says, stalking off.
When he returns, I can see the worry etched into his face.
He stares at me for a moment, seeing the raw pain I can’t hide.
He then swiftly moves to her dressing table, picking up her cell.
“Maybe there's a clue here,” he suggests.
I watch as his fingers dance over the screen, scrolling through the recent calls. A name pops up repeatedly, making my blood run cold.
“Tasha,” Javier mutters, handing me the phone.
The mystery deepens, and my resolve strengthens. I need to find Sienna, for her safety, for our unborn child, and for the bond that has seen more strain than any relationship should endure.
“We need to trace this number,” I instruct Javier, trying to rein in the whirlwind of emotions threatening to consume me.
Javier nods, determination evident in his eyes, “Leave it with me.”
Every tick of the clock becomes a painful reminder of the time slipping away, and the urgency to find her, to make things right, becomes paramount.
As I watch Javier plugs Sienna's phone into my laptop, he fiddles with something accessing her messages to see if Sienna has deleted anything while the company tries to track Tasha's phone using the cell towers placed around the city.
However, Javier finds no texts on Sienna's phone that we haven't already seen.
My heartbeat reverberates in my ears, punctuating the urgency of the situation. Each thump is a visceral reminder of Sienna's absence.
Javier concentrates on my laptop screen while I pace tracks into the carpet, his face etched with concern; when his phone rings, he answers it, and I pause.
“Keep looking but for now, give me her home address,” Javier speaks to whoever is on the other end. He grabs a piece of paper, writing something down, and hangs up. He hastily hands me Tasha's address. “Tasha's address?” I question, and he nods, rising from his seat.
Without a second thought, I'm stalking out of my office and storming toward the foyer doors. Javier follows silently, knowing it's best to leave me be while I'm on a warpath.
Jumping in my car, I jam the keys in the ignition, eager to see if Sienna is hiding out at Tasha's. Yet, some part of me fears finding her, finding out why she is hiding from me.
While I drive, Javier is texting and answering calls, finding out information on where Tasha has been the past few days. Nothing suspicious shows, only work and home, besides meeting us at the restaurant and meeting with Sienna at the café.
I drive like a madman to the other side of the city before turning down an alley beside where she lives. Parking the car, I jump out. Emerging from the shadowed alleyways, I confront Tasha's apartment building, its looming facade gleaming in the moonlight.
The entire bottom level of the building is boarded up as renovations take place on the lower levels.
Walking inside, I climb the stairs, not willing to wait for the elevator. As I approach the front door, I can feel my heart racing in my chest. With a single kick, the door gives way, revealing the dimly lit interior.
The apartment is a tidy, and cozy place with artwork on the walls. The carpets are freshly vacuumed and everything appears to be in order.
A plush leather sofa sits beneath one wall adorned with an array of pictures tucked within heart-shaped frames; each photo captures moments shared between Sienna and Tasha's friendship over their lifetime together.
Their laughing faces look back at me almost mockingly as I enter the room, wishing they could offer some insight into Sienna's current whereabouts, so far away from my reach right now.
A small bookshelf is situated against one wall, conspicuously filled with various hardbacks ranging in genre from fantasy to science fiction.
Despite the place feeling overly feminine and cozy, the air is cold, and the place is empty of any noise.
My eyes scan every inch, every possible hiding place, but there's no sign of Tasha. The eerie silence is maddening.
“Tasha!” My voice ripples with fury, echoing through the desolate space. The void of response feeds the growing storm within me. Retrieving my phone, my fingers shaking with a mixture of rage and concern, I dial Tasha's number. Where the heck are they?