Page 32 of Prey of the Lycan Queen (Unwanted #2)
Chapter Thirty-One
The fury that consumes me is a storm unleashed. My hands become vessels of rage as I hurl another crystal decanter against the wall. The entire room is pretty much destroyed.
Zirah is gone.
She left me and went with Zeke, the man who hurt her the most, the man I had to protect her from. Perhaps that is what eats me up the most. That she’d rather be with a man who tortured her than be with one who would kill for her.
Caught up in my anger, I don’t notice the door opening.
James appears like a ghost come to witness torment, judging silently for the most part.
We’ve never really gotten along because he always has to make snarky comments about my choices.
He is harmless but over-opinionated when it comes to my life.
Collapsing in a heap, I lean against the wall trying to catch my breath.
His gaze scans the wreckage of my room before it lands on me, slumped on the floor, a half-empty bottle of aged whiskey clenched in my shaking hand.
“Here to gloat?” I ask, turning my attention to the window to see the moon has crested past the halfway point. I glance at the clock on the wall, realizing just how blind I’ve been to the time. It’s nearly 5 a.m.
His voice is a calm contrast to the turmoil raging within me. “Now why would I come to gloat? I don’t like seeing any of my nephews upset,” he states, and I scoff.
“Well, you’ve been hellbent on convincing Zirah I am the evil one out of us. At least I have reasons for the things I’ve done.” I mumble the last part.
“Your reasons don’t matter. I have not been trying to sabotage you as you may think.
I’ve been ensuring she has the full picture because your entire species relies on her breaking that curse.
If she chooses wrong she dooms you all. There are more than just you and your brothers at stake.
” I know he’s right, but his words still piss me off.
He watches me like I’m a naughty child who needs to be scolded.
I should be ashamed of myself, yet I’m not.
I’m too hurt and angry to care for his judgmental stare.
He stops in front of me, his boots crunching in the shattered glass.
He sits on the edge of my bed, clad in a simple white shirt, a faded brown cardigan, and a pair of black trousers.
From this angle, I can see his long black hair tied at his nape, though some pieces escaped and splay out at his temples, and the lines on his face seem deeper.
The stress of recent events has taken its toll on us all.
My uncle sighs deeply as he takes in my appearance.
“Are you over your tantrum?” he asks. I glare up at him, and a guttural growl rumbles from deep within my chest as I fight to stay in this form, knowing if I give into my anger again, I may lose more time.
My fingers grip the whiskey bottle tightly as I take another swig.
“She hates me.” The pain that lies beneath my anger scorches my heart like a hot iron. I can also feel the heavy, decaying sensation that stems from her rejection. Death is coming.
James starts to speak, but my anger rears its ugly head again. “Don’t! This is your fault,” I accuse. “You were the one who suggested she go to each of our kingdoms. She rejected me because of you!” Uncle James says nothing, but he doesn’t have to. I can see the guilt in his eyes.
The tense atmosphere in the room shifts, a worrying quietness settling between us. He slowly rises from my bed, his gaze locked on mine as he steps closer.
“You are angry,” he begins softly, and despite the gentle tone of his voice, it does nothing to soothe the rage inside me.
“You must remember you are not the only one cursed, so is she.” His hand lightly rests upon my shoulder.
“She has to choose not who she loves, but who can be redeemed, think about that, Regan. What would be the consequence of choosing wrong?”
I take a deep breath, leaning my head back against the wall before responding. “I know,” I mutter quietly, releasing a heavy sigh and tipping the bottle to my lips again.
“Do you, though?” he asks quietly, and I growl.
“Well, I am assuming if we die for our sins, she dies for her choices too,” I snarl. “But it still hurts.”
“Along with the lycan species.” James withdraws his hand from my shoulder and steps away from me.
We both sit in silence for what feels like hours before he finally speaks again.
“What’s done is done. There’s no point dwelling on it.
You only have a couple of days to redeem yourself, so this moping about needs to stop,” he tells me.
His words bring a flood of emotions—anger, hurt, betrayal, and loneliness—all washing over me like an intense wave that threatens to consume me whole.
I want to rip Zeke’s head from his body, but I know James is right, and giving in to wrath won’t change how she feels about me. It would only make things worse. She needs time to come to terms with the things I’ve had to do.
Nothing will change the fact I’ve tormented my own people for over a decade, making them fear their own shadows.
It doesn’t matter if I would never intentionally harm them.
Living in fear is not living at all, so even if I led those people to the mine shaft every month and tossed them into the waiting nets, I can’t really be sure if Zeke stepped in to save them the way I assumed he would.
“So, what are we doing? Making a declaration of love, fighting to the death, or having a pity party?” James asks, and I glare at him.
I have no idea what to do. I prayed that Zeke was saving the prisoners from the mine shaft all these years.
I wonder if I should go check the nets and make sure nothing is down there.
The driver always complained of the stench, but I know Zeke.
He’d make it believable. He may be the worst of us, but in some ways, he’s also the best of us.
I glance at my phone, about to call him to ensure they got back to his kingdom. Before I can, it’s buzzing in my hand. An incoming call from my father.
His voice is strained. “King Slavic came to the castle looking for you all. He took Malachi,” he blurts. My eyes dart to James whose attention goes straight to me as he eavesdrops on my father’s voice.
“What?” I ask, sitting up straighter.
“He took Malachi,” my father rasps.
“Crap, I am on my way,” I tell him.
Then there’s a gasp, a gurgling sound, and my father’s voice falters. “No, get Malachi. I’ll be fine.”
“What is it, Dad?” The silence from the other end is deafening. “Are you sure?” I press on, but still, there is no response. “Dad?”
His rattling exhale sends a surge of panic through me, followed by a hollow thud. “Dad?” He doesn’t answer, and I look at James, who stares at me with worry.
He snatches the phone from my hand. “Theron, you wrinkly old bastard, answer before you give me a heart attack.” Still silence, and I see him press his ear harder to the phone.
His vampire hearing is a little better than that of a lycan.
“I think he’s passed out, but I can still hear his heart beating,” he states.
I snatch the phone from him and stand.
“Dad if you can hear me. We’re on our way,” I tell him, hoping he can.
Snatching up some clothes, I dress as I rush down the steps, leaving the ruins of my room behind and heading back to my father’s kingdom.
James rushes to keep up with me, and we are in the car just as I pull a fresh shirt over my head.
As I start the car and James slides in next to me, I call Lyon. The phone connects to Bluetooth just as he answers. “Hello.”
“Where are you?” I demand, my voice hoarse with worry, though I am relieved he answered because that means Slavic hasn’t found him.
“Heading to Zeke and Zirah, why?” Lyon responds.
“Good, stay there and don’t leave her side,” I order, gripping the steering wheel tighter as I accelerate out the gates and onto the road. The morning light is just peaking over the mountains, blinding me for a second as I crest the hill leading to the highway.
“Well, I wasn’t planning to. What’s wrong?” Zeke asks, and I can hear that he is driving by the sound of his indicator ticking as he turns a corner.
“Something’s going on, and I’m heading back. I need to check on Dad before I see King Slavic. He took Malachi.”
“Do you need me to meet you somewhere?”
“No, get to Zirah and Zeke. Let Zeke know what’s going on. I’ll keep you all informed.” The conversation ends, but the silence isn’t comforting as I speed up the highway.
The endless road stretches ahead as James tries to reach anyone at the castle, dialing all the numbers he has, but when they are met with no answer, worry really sets in.