Page 13 of Mated To The King’s Gamma (Lycan Luna: Abbie & Gannon #3)

Liam wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, panting heavily. Suddenly, a startled squeak echoes from the door. Dustin swiftly moves past me, seizing the girl who escorted us here and muffling her cry before she can alert security.

Dustin shoves her toward Liam who clamps a hand over her mouth. Liam drags the struggling girl into the room and shuts the door with a forceful kick.

“Misunderstanding, love, nothing to worry about, shh,” he breathes, letting her go and shoving her toward my mate.

Trembling, my mate clasps her hands over her mouth, her eyes filled with horror as she gazes at me.

Still consumed by anger, I growl menacingly at her. Deep down, I know it isn’t Liam’s fault. How could he have known? But my wild, raging Lycan side thirsts for his blood, furious that he slept with her, and that my mate turned out to be involved in such a profession.

“Calm down, Damian. We can’t draw attention here,” Dustin urges, his hands gripping my shirt tightly as I attempt to rise. “I need to get out of here,” I seethe through gritted teeth, every instinct urging me to tear the place apart and eliminate anyone who has laid a hand on her.

The two women take fearful steps backward as I regain my footing, my gaze flicking briefly to my half-naked mate huddled beside them.

Sneering involuntarily, I can’t help myself.

“Put some damn clothes on. We’re leaving,” I snarl at her, and she glances at the terrified woman beside her.

Clutching her arm, she turns to face Dustin.

“Tell me you’ve obtained what we needed,” I snap at Liam, who retrieves some rolled-up files from inside his denim jacket. “It’s all here,” he replies, catching his breath now that I’m no longer crushing him. His gaze shifts past me, fixating on my mate standing behind me.

“What do we do about her?” Liam interjects, pointing toward the other woman who stands frozen with fear beside my mate. Frustration courses through me, knowing this is not part of our plan. If I take her with us, our presence will be discovered. Yet, abandoning her is not an option either.

I clutch my hair in frustration. Fuck! This is not part of the damn plan.

Kyson is going to lose his damn mind over this, “Command her to remain silent,” I instruct Liam, while Dustin rises to his feet.

Extending his hand toward the terrified girl, he offers reassurance amidst her overpowering fear that fills the room.

“I won’t harm you, but you must come with me,” Dustin says, his hand hovering in the air as she hesitates, eyeing my mate who is yet to utter a word since screaming during my assault.

Ignoring her presence, for fear of losing control once again, I issue a cold warning.

“Go. I’ll be fine,” my mate whispers, nudging the girl forward despite the trembling in her own hands.

Reluctantly, the girl takes a tentative step forward but refrains from accepting Dustin’s hand.

Desperate to escape the room, Liam suddenly intercepts her, who drapes his arm around her shoulders, ensuring she doesn’t flee.

Together, they exit the room, swiftly closing the door behind them.

Turning away from the closed door, I focus my attention on my mate. Her body language betrays her vulnerability as she hurriedly covers herself with a blue silk robe. I observe her silently as she slips it on, deftly tying the silk belt around her waist.

“What’s your name?” I inquire, vaguely recalling that it begins with a T. Advancing toward her, I reach out to grab her, but she leaps onto the bed, eluding my grasp. She scurries across it, attempting to create distance between us. My growl freezes her in place, her eyes darting toward the door.

“Run, and you will regret it,” I warn her, noticing her gaze lingering on the door. “I asked for your name. Answer me,” I snap impatiently.

“Tandi. It’s fucking Tandi,” she retorts defiantly, surprising me with the fire in her eyes as she glares back at me.

It irks me because it isn’t like she caught me fucking whoring myself out.

Some logical part of me knows I should ask questions, but my Lycan side is pissed that she is a prostitute, which only overshadows any common sense.

“Just reject me and be done with it,” she snaps, her tone laced with bitterness. Arched brows betray my surprise at her words. Ignoring her harshness, I sigh heavily.

“I’m Damian,” I inform her, to which she simply nods without offering any further response. Pressing my lips together tightly, I issue a command.

“Retrieve your belongings. We are leaving,” I tell her, but she shakes her head in defiance. My jaw clenches, and a snarl escapes me. “It’s not up for discussion,” I grit out.

“I can’t leave, so either reject me or I will reject you,” she declares, and I laugh incredulously. Would she truly reject her own mate? Someone willing to rescue her from this wretched place?

“If you do that, I will mark you on the spot. I am a Lycan. I cannot reject my mate, no matter how much I may want to,” I inform her, regretting my words instantly as I witness the hurt in her eyes.

I know my anger has clouded my judgment, leading me to speak recklessly in the face of discovering her circumstances.

She swallows, staring at the wall and nodding. Despite her wanting me to reject her, I notice the way her eyes turn glassy, as if my words hurt her more than she is willing to admit.

‘Done, Beta. We can leave when you’re ready,’ Dustin mindlinks.

‘Meet me at the car,’ I instruct them, moving toward my mate. Her eyes widen, and she bolts for the door. My arm snakes around her waist as she grips the door handle.

“Believe me, you don’t want me. Just let me go,” she growls defiantly.

“It’s not my choice. We are leaving,” I snap back, and she tosses her head back in frustration. In her haste, her head collides with my nose, causing me to release her as pain shoots through me. Blood spurts from my nose, and I groan while she flings the door open, attempting to escape.

I give chase. My fingers tear at the back of her robe, pulling her back as she swiftly pivots.

The fabric rips as my claws emerge, and she strikes my face with her palm, causing my head to snap back with the force of the blow.

Then, she delivers a knee to my groin. Despite her petite stature, she defends herself admirably.

I suppose one would learn a thing or two working in such an establishment.

My breathing hitches and my nuts feel like they are suddenly lodged in my damn throat as I try to breathe around the pain.

She races out the door, and I clutch onto a nearby dresser, hauling myself upright before sprinting after her. Peering up the stairs, I see her making her way toward the third floor.

I lunge for her, grabbing hold of her ankle on the stairs. She swiftly pivots, delivering a powerful kick to my shoulder that propels me backward, granting her the opportunity to continue her escape.

“Stop!” I order, and she freezes as my command rolls over. I can tell she is trying her darndest to fight against, though.

Sweat drips down her forehead as she grits her teeth, clenching her fists by her sides and gasping for breath.

Ascending the stairs, I release my command and grasp her wrist firmly, forcefully pulling her back down the steps.

“I can’t go with you. You don’t understand.

I have a—” Her sentence is cut short by a noise emanating from the corridor below, causing her to gasp.

Security personnel begin to stroll down the red hallway.

Their eyes lock onto me, dragging my mate into their line of sight. They launch an attack before I can issue any commands. Reacting swiftly, I dodge an incoming blow, but in doing so, I am forced to release my hold on my mate to prevent any harm to her.

She raced up the stairs behind me while I find myself locked in combat with the two guards who dare challenge a Lycan. I shrug off my frustration. Perhaps this is an opportunity to release some of the anger coursing through my veins.

Unfortunately for my anger, the guards are not much of a challenge.

With one swift kick to the head, the first man goes down, collapsing in a heap.

A throat punch and a quick jab has the second man sprawled over his buddy.

I can’t help but scoff at their lack of skill.

These supposed security guards are nothing more than amateurs.

Even a child would put up a better fight and withstand hits better than these men with their glass jaws.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I climb the steps, following the intoxicating scent of peaches and cream that lingers in the air. But with each step I take, my frustration grows. Why is she making me hunt her down? The pent-up rage within me intensifies with every passing moment.

“I’m fine, Stacey. Just go,” her voice echoes through the thin walls as I walk through the halls.

Up on this level, the atmosphere is less refined than the floor below, indicating this might be where the women live.

The paint on the walls flake and peel away, giving an air of neglect.

The floors beg for a thorough polishing.

Above me, the old-style lights flicker and sway, casting an eerie glow as I move down the corridor.

A door creaks open, drawing my attention.

A woman steps out of a room and quickly closes it behind her as she spins around and catches sight of me.

Her gaze drops to the floor, and she hurriedly travels to a neighboring room.

However, that brief moment when the door was ajar let me catch a strong whiff of my mate’s scent wafting out from within.

Approaching the door, I grasp the locked handle and twist it until it crumbles in my hand, disintegrating into pieces. I stare at the broken brass doorknob in disdain. Their security system is a joke - incompetent officers and flimsy locks that crumble under the slightest pressure.