Page 7 of Lycan King’s Claim (Lycan King’s Reign Duet #2)

I had to escape, to get away from her. The rage that was building inside me was overpowering and consuming.

I couldn't see past my anger, my fear of her running away again clouding my judgment.

I reach for the bottle, drinking the last remnants of it before tossing it into the bin.

I close my eyes and rest my head back on the headrest. Pain courses through me.

It's as if I can feel his burning touch, pulsating and throbbing with such intensity that it makes my limbs ache, mainly my hand.

Time passes, and the ache remains, gradually dulling along with my fury.

Yet the memories of the past remain. I remember the first time I noticed the changes within me, about ten years ago.

I thought I was hallucinating as I stared into the mirror, my eyes transforming, veins wriggling beneath my skin. I believed I was falling ill.

The power of command possessed by kings grants them the ability to control others against their will.

As this power strengthens, it affects their psyche, leading to paranoia and mistrust. The weight of ruling and the constant exposure to others' emotions can push them toward madness.

Finding a mate becomes vital to maintain their sanity.

Without a mate, the madness can consume the king, turning them into a tyrant ruled by their own inner demons. The power of command becomes a destructive force, causing the king to lose touch with reality and commit acts of cruelty and violence.

The next day, I knew what it was because the veins remained only now my eyes had changed.

It was the beginning of a journey into madness, the power twisting and warping my mind.

Power makes people delusional, paranoid, and that's how it all started.

Gradually, the power takes on its own entity, another form of consciousness, an alter ego of sorts, born from a fractured mind.

As a king's mind unravels, their actions become unpredictable, driven by irrational fears and obsessions.

The power of command that once granted them control now becomes a force that controls them.

Kingdoms have fallen to mad kings, and wars started.

It's why Lycans are governed so fiercely.

It's why we hid that I was king from the Council for so long until we had no other choice.

This is why finding a mate is so crucial for a king. The bond formed with their mate provides a grounding force, a stabilizing influence that helps them maintain their sanity. The mate acts as a counterbalance to the power, sharing the weight of the command and providing stability.

Something I feared because the side effects are irreversible. I've learned to control it, and Sienna is a huge part of that. After what she's done, the betrayal of the bond seems to have awoken it.

I'm jolted awake by the sound of the door opening. It takes me a few seconds to recognize my surroundings, disorientation sweeping through me. Javier walks in, picking up the discarded bottles I don't remember drinking. He tosses them into the bin, muttering under his breath.

"I came to check on you," he tells me, and I sit up, running my fingers through my hair.

"I'm fine; I just needed to get away from her," I reply, shaking my hand as the pain intensifies, pulsating relentlessly. I flex my fingers, trying to alleviate the discomfort.

"What about Sienna?" Javier asks.

"In her room," I tell him, still feeling the throbbing pain in my hand. "What about the hotel?" I ask, knowing if anyone has footage that gets out, it will bring the Council here.

"Sorted. Your parents took care of it. Your mother paid off the hotel owner for the security footage and entry logs. Carina compelled those staying at the hotel, and we erased any phone footage," Javier explains, and I nod slowly.

Something nags at me, though, and the pain in my hand only worsens, becoming all-consuming. "Has Sienna eaten, Xandros? You've been down here for hours, and you never gave me the key to the room. I tried finding the master key, but it's gone," Javier asks, concern etched on his face.

I rub my face, trying to remember how long I've been down here, my memories fuzzy.

I recall walking into the bathhouse with Sienna, waking up disoriented in our room, and feeling my control slipping away.

I knew I had to get away from her, from everyone.

And then… The pain in my hand intensifies, and my fingers twitch involuntarily.

It suddenly dawns on me. Violently, my hand spasms, throbbing with agony. My eyes widen as I open the bond, letting it flood me, allowing me to sense her. What I find horrifies me. She's in so much pain. I glance at my hand, noticing its pale, almost translucent appearance.

"No," I gasp, jumping from my seat.

"Xandros?" Javier panics. I have no time to explain as I run for her room. However, I can't find the key when I reach the door. I search my pockets, digging through my blazer. It's nowhere to be found. Javier catches up with me.

"What is it?" he asks. Panic surges through me, and I back up, slamming my body against the door. A horrid crunch and snap echo through the air as my shoulder makes contact.

Ignoring the pain, I back up again, hitting the door again. This time, it groans, cracks, and splinters on one side. Javier grabs my arm, his eyes widening.

"Where's the key?" he growls. I shake my head, unable to remember. Slowly, realization dawns on him.

"What have you done?" he accuses. I don't have time to answer.

I hit the door once more, and it gives way, crumbling under the force of my impact.

Stumbling into the room, I'm met with a horrifying sight.

Sienna frantically attempts to cut her hand off using her claws; the bed is drenched in blood as she yanks at her hand.

The sight that greets me is like a nightmare turned reality.

Sienna. Her beautiful face, streaked with tears, is clawing desperately at the handcuff encircling her wrist. Her hands are smeared in blood, and the sheets are stained a grotesque red.

The metallic scent of it permeates the room, stinging my nostrils and searing my lungs as she twists and pulls, trying to free her hand like a frenzied animal.

My stomach churns, acid twisting as a mixture of guilt and horror courses through my veins. I should have noticed sooner. I should have sensed her distress. Her pain echoes through our bond, reverberating like an eerie orchestra in my mind.

As I sprint toward her, Sienna lashes out, caught in the midst of her suffering.

“Monster!” she screams, her voice hoarse and strained.

Her eyes, usually bright and vibrant, are dull with pain and raging with fury.

She lands a kick to my stomach, the blow knocking the wind out of me as I stumble back.

She is rabid, absolutely feral with her pain.

“Sienna,” I gasp, attempting to pacify her. “I need to help you. Let me help.”

She’s not listening. Her suffering has morphed into uncontrollable rage. I feel a strong grip on my shoulder as Javier rushes to my side to help. “Where’s the key, Xandros?” he yells. I have no answer for him. I can’t remember. The key is lost along with my memory.

Sienna’s hand, pale and cold, lacks the usual life-giving warmth. It’s a horrifying sight, reminiscent of a corpse’s hand. A whimper claws its way up my throat. I’ve done this to her. In my rage, my paranoia, I’d caged her like a wild animal, and now she’s responding in kind.

Javier holds her legs down as I straddle her; she thrashes and kicks, trying to throw me off while I try to break the iron restraint.

Her fury doesn’t subside even when the cuff snaps open, her freed hand immediately lashing out to strike me.

She wails into me, bucking beneath me, her claws slashing my clothes and ribs as I try to block her.

In response, my command rolls over her like a wave.

“Stop!” I roar, and to my relief, she does, her body stiffening underneath me, my command stunning her and forcing her immobile.

The fight leaves her, replaced by violent sobs as I gently massage her wrist, urging life back into the tortured limb.

Javier hovers at the edge of the bed, his eyes torn between us.

“Want me to get a doctor?” he asks, I shake my head, “No, just leave. Try and find my keys.” I tell him.

As he departs, Sienna’s chest rises and falls erratically, her frantic gaze locked onto Javier until he disappears, the busted door clicking shut behind him.

“Get out,” Sienna snaps at me, her eyes still burning with resentment and fear.

“I need to heal your hand, Sienna,” I respond, reaching for her. She recoils from my touch like a wounded animal.

“Don’t touch me!” she hisses, glaring at me with eyes filled with loathing. I try to suppress the stab of pain her words inflict.

“I’m trying to help you, Sienna.”

She erupts into giggles, her eyebrows lifting. “Help me?” She echoes her voice a shrill note of hysteria. “If you wanted to help, you should have killed me! I’d rather die than be stuck with you!”

Ignoring her venomous words, I attempt to grab her wrist again, and she fights back. Her fist collides with my face, a painful reminder of the divide between us.

“Stop fighting me, Sienna. You’re only hurting yourself,” I growl, forcing her to remain still as I bite into my wrist, the blood welling up immediately. She resists, clamping her lips shut. With a firm pinch to her cheeks, I force her mouth open, pressing my bleeding wrist against her lips.

The moment I pull away, her lips curl into a sneer, and she spits my blood back in my face.

“I hate you!” she screams, the rawness of her pain evident in her voice.

“Hate me all you want; it won’t change the fact you’re mine,” I retort, my own anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“First chance I get, I’m gone, Xandros! You don’t care for me, you don’t love me, you?—”

“And he did? He loved you?” I scoff, her words cutting deep. She’s wrong. She has no idea what she’s talking about.

Her words, raw and cutting, seethe from between her clenched teeth. “At least he didn’t fucking hurt me!” Her voice rings through the room, echoing off the cold stone walls. She’s not finished, her anger cascading over her like a crashing wave.

“And you? What’s your definition of love, Xandros?” she spits, her voice ripe with contempt. “Binding me? Hurting me? Is this your pathetic idea of affection? Are these the vows of love to you?”

I can feel my blood boiling beneath my skin, her words piercing through me like poisoned darts. She doesn’t relent, her voice growing stronger and more emboldened with each scathing indictment.

“Toby showed me kindness, respect, Xandros,” she continues, her voice quivering with a potent mixture of rage and hurt. “He valued me. Not as some object to claim and control, as an equal. Something you can never comprehend. Is your ego so inflated you believe this… this torture is love?”

She’s mocking me, her words a harsh rebuke to my skewed ideals of love and possession. She’s dismantling me, piece by piece, her scornful words like whiplash stinging more than I care to admit.

“You’re nothing but a beast, Xandros! The fucking Mad King!

” Her voice rings out, echoing against the stone walls.

“A cold, heartless monster! You don’t love; you only claim.

You only possess. You have no concept of what it means to truly love someone.

You don’t deserve to love; you don’t deserve to be loved! ”

Her words, cruel and relentless, tear through the air like a cruel hurricane, each syllable an arrow aimed straight at my pride, my ego. A venomous rejection of everything I am, everything I represent. Her onslaught of cruel declarations leave me bare, my soul flayed by her brutal honesty.

Her declaration hangs heavy in the room. My chest constricts, my rage building. “He can’t love you because he’s fucking dead! Your precious boyfriend is dead, Sienna! His love got him killed!” I seethe, my grip on her throat tightening.

“You speak his name again, and I will cut your fucking tongue out.”

My threat hangs in the air, a poisonous fog, as a tremble vibrates through my body.

The realization that I’m choking her causes my hand to release its grip.

She gasps, sucking in a lungful of air as I stumble back, mortification washing over me.

I barely hear Javier’s voice, barely registering his trembling hand on my shoulder.

“Let her go, Xandros. Walk away. I’ll handle her,” he says. I swallow, my gaze drawn to Sienna, who’s still clutching her throat, her body wracked with harsh coughs.

“Are you alright?” Javier’s voice sounds distant as if he’s speaking from underwater. I blink, my vision blurring before I finally manage a nod.

“I’m fine,” I snap before turning on my heel and storming out of the room, the scene of my atrocities left behind.