Page 48 of Prey of the Lycan Queen (Unwanted #2)

Chapter Forty-Seven

I’ve lost track of time, this place only offers rock and darkness, yet I feel the full moon’s approach, feel my change is almost here.

King Slavic seems to realize that I am powerless with Lyon and Zeke sedated.

He’s stopped drugging them, knowing the only way for me to access my magic is by being able to draw on my mates for strength.

I’ve been confined to this cell, and every so often, he drags Zeke out and tortures him until I try to resurrect his son again. Hours have passed since the last time he had his men carve into Zeke, making me fear his return.

A distinct prickling sensation crawls under my skin. The moon’s call resonates within me, its siren song humming through my veins, awakening the primal force that lies dormant. It’s close, and that thrills me and terrifies me simultaneously.

Beside me, Zeke trembles, his body beaten and broken from King Slavic’s sadistic torture.

His hand, though calloused and rough, gently cups my face, and his thumb traces comforting circles on my cheek.

“Hush, love. If they hear you, they’ll know you’re about to shift,” he whispers, his breath fanning my face with the scent of anxiety and concern.

Ignoring the piercing pain that rattles my bones, I tighten my grip on Zeke’s hand and take a deep, grounding breath.

On my other side, I watch Lyon’s chest rise and fall in his sedated state.

I wish for him to wake up and smile at me, to reassure me he’s going to be okay, but with the way his body jerks and twitches, I know he’s still working through the drugs and hallucinations.

Zeke’s form is marred by bruises and wounds, reminders of the brutal torture inflicted by Slavic. I stifle a low moan with my hand. “I know you’re in pain, love,” he murmurs, his breath mingling with the cold, damp air.

“It hurts,” I groan, twisting and wriggling through the agony. My body bends to the inevitable, succumbing to the transformation that beckons. The pain is raw and visceral, ripping through me in searing waves, reshaping my form with ruthless precision.

Zeke’s hand remains a steady presence against my shifting form, a grounding anchor amid the turbulent storm.

His voice, heavy with conviction, provides a sense of solace.

“We’ll get through this, Zirah,” he promises.

“But I need you to be quiet,” he whispers, his hand muffling my cries as he moves, clamping it over my mouth.

“They’ll hear her, shh, Priestess, you have to be quiet,” one of the witches urges, and I can hear the fear in her voice, yet the pain is torture.

With a guttural growl, the shift takes hold, pulling at my form as if I were made of putty. My body convulses, my skin stretching and contorting as my bones creak and crack. The taste of raw, untamed power fills my mouth. It’s intoxicating.

As the chaos of fur, fangs, and fear erupts within the confines of the cell, the sound of feet running toward us reaches my ears. “Shh, quiet, love,” Zeke whispers, knowing what is to come when they find out.

Zeke moves, forcing the shift I know causes him agony, to shield my breaking body.

He presses me closer to Lyon, allowing both their huge bodies to shield me from the guards as they shine their lights into the cell.

My spine cracks and Zeke’s hand presses harder against my mouth while he growls at the guards.

They scan the cell with their lights, focusing on Zeke’s form.

One guard chuckles and shakes his head. “Try all you like mutt, but these cells could hold a dozen of you. You’re not getting out.

” The flashlights flicker away, and the guards’ footsteps retreat, completely uninterested in Zeke’s attempt to shift.

Zeke rolls over and sits up, his eyes scanning the room before falling on my twisted form.

He snarls, sniffing me. I can feel his confusion.

I don’t smell like me right now. The shift is changing my scent, infusing it with the human part of me.

He growls, his clawed hand moving to grab me, but Zeke flings his arm between us.

“It’s Zirah, Lyon,” Zeke snarls, using his body to block Lyon’s next blow from hitting me. I know it’s not his fault, and I know the hallucinations don’t help, but it stings that he doesn’t recognize me.

Lyon turns on his brother, his mind still poisoned with the drugs. It takes all of Zeke’s strength to subdue him. The brothers lock into a brutal fight, and I know how this will end. Zeke will be torn to pieces as he tries not to kill Lyon, which in turn will kill us all.

I cry out in anguish as I watch Zeke’s body being ripped apart by Lyon’s frenzied aggression. The beast within him is too strong, too far gone under the influence of the sedatives, and my mate pays the price for his loyalty and love.

The sound of teeth and claws tearing flesh fills the air as Zeke throws himself in front of me. The metallic tang of blood mixes with the musky scent of lycan, thickening the air and adding to the chaos.

Cries and grunts mix with growls and snarls, the sound reverberating off the walls of our damp, dark cell as Zeke fights to subdue his brother without causing serious harm. His lycan form is scarred and broken, but he fights with all his might to protect me from harm.

Blood spatters across my face as I struggle to get between the two brothers before they kill one another.

Only I make it about two steps before my ankles snap, stealing the air from my lungs.

Teeth and claws clash, blood spraying the cell.

Lyon’s rage fuels his strength, and Zeke’s desperation to subdue him dampens his own.

I scream, the sound echoing off the stone walls of our prison until it feels like it’s shattering the very foundations of our confinement. “Stop it! Both of you, stop it!” My voice is raw and hoarse from the pain as I throw myself at them, desperate to end the senseless fighting.

But it’s too late, and Zeke kicks Lyon into the metal bars with one final shove of his legs.

Lyon stumbles backward and crashes to the ground, half dazed by his rage.

I throw myself in front of him before he can recover enough to attack again, my canines slipping out as a low growl fills my chest. I feel my vision changing abruptly as lycan senses settle over me like a blanket.

Lyon stares at me in shock, struggling against himself to return from the dark depths that consumed him moments ago.

Although I’m no match for them, my presence seems to be enough of a distraction that both Zeke and Lyon are pulled out of their violent frenzy. Their eyes meet, and the realization sets in that they nearly killed one another. Zeke collapses before me, exhausted from their fight.

Lyon is quick to shove me away as another wave of agony tears through me.

My spine realigns, and my bones harden and lengthen.

As I cry out under the pain of my body reshaping itself, Zeke hesitantly gathers me into his arms, his strong frame shaking with silent sobs as he once again muffles my cries.

His words become the anthem of our pain.

“Your first shift should never have been this...I’m sorry, Zirah, so sorry.

Shh...baby. You need to be quiet, please.

” I let his words anchor me as I feel Lyon’s confusion.

Zeke growls, but instead of attacking this time, Lyon lays down and presses closer.

A deep purr rumbles from his chest, and after a few minutes, I feel Zeke finally relax.