Page 43

A zalea was in a strange mood. She was scared, not that she would admit it.

I was kind of glad to get out of the castle with her.

At least she would be safe with me. Or so I hoped.

I hope bringing her back to this place doesn’t dredge up unwanted memories for her or haunt her, especially after this morning.

She knew I was keeping stuff from her, but I was only doing it to protect her, though some of it was for selfish reasons.

“Are you worried about returning here?” I ask her, but she shakes her head. Which only confirmed my original thoughts. She feared being at the castle. I was struggling to figure out who I could trust myself.

Every lead we had was a dead-end, and I knew this one would be too. They always were, yet still, we investigated.

“What are you worried about, then?”

“Everything,” she murmurs. I could feel the weight and pressure on her.

She had been thrust into a world she knew nothing about.

Laws, kingdoms, and her own family history were a mystery to her.

Then, on top of that, she was worried about Abbie.

She was always worried about Abbie. Concerned about who was trying to kill her and why.

But most of all, she was curious to know who she was, and as determined as I was to keep it from her, I knew she also needed to know.

So I would start teaching her to use her Alpha voice even if it means hers would one-day overthrow mine.

Yet feeling her through the bond, her nervousness and anxiety worsened the closer we got, and the overwhelming urge to comfort her grew stronger. I wanted to touch her, put her mind at ease, and let her know she was safe with me.

“Come here.” I couldn’t stop the edge of a growl escaping me, but she turned her head to look at me, pulling her attention away from the window.

“Seatbelt, Azalea. Sit up, Azalea. And now, you want me to remove my seatbelt to come to you?” she spits at me sarcastically while shaking her head. My little mate was growing more cunning. Her attitude I always found amusing until it was used against me.

I growl and unclip my seatbelt before moving toward her.

Sliding onto the seat beside her and slipping my arm across her tiny waist and undoing her seatbelt before looping my arm around her waist and dragging her onto my lap.

She growls, and I purr back at her. She would not escape me so easily.

My hand snuck under her shirt to rest on her lower belly.

The slightest bump fit in the palm of my hand.

She sighs and relaxes against me as I caress it.

I couldn’t wait to watch her belly grow with our child, I couldn’t wait to see what sort of mother she would be.

I wanted a big family, and I wondered ?whether she shared the same thoughts.

To me, her scent was like a balm, soothing yet also teasing, making my mouth water. She smells sweet, cherry, and vanilla, and I can’t explain the strange urges her scent enticed. I have never liked sweets, yet her scent was addictive and inviting. She smells delicious.

So I can’t help the purr that slips out and vibrates against her back. My calling works every time, and I love how she melts under it. At least, that is one thing I will always have that she can’t resist. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply.

My cock grows hard beneath her, and I am glad Abbie didn’t come.

I felt like I hardly got time with her alone anymore, so having her so close and all mine, I can’t resist the temptation her flesh is offering.

My fingertips draw circles on her skin before teasing the waistband of her tights.

My purr grows louder, and I can feel the effect I am having on her.

Her arousal through the bond is intense and perfumes the small space in the limousine.

Her scent becomes overwhelming. I am supposed to be distracting her and calming her, and all I managed is to work myself up.

“Kyson! Damian and Trey are in the front!” she hisses, gripping my wrist and trying to stop it from slipping lower. Ignoring her, I slip my hand beneath the waistband and cup her warm pussy with my hand.

“Kyson!” she squeaks, while squirming on my lap. I groan as her ass brushes against my erection. Stroking the seam of her wet lower lips, she could deny me all she wants, but she can’t hide the feeling I am enticing out of her.

Azalea squirms as my fingers tease her folds, drawing out moisture with each brush across her slit. “Hmm,” I hum before shoving my finger inside her.

Any words of protest she did have, die off as my thumb gently rubs against her swollen clit.

Her legs open wider for me, and I chuckle, kissing her shoulder and withdrawing my finger that is slick with her arousal before sliding it back in and curling it deep within her.

Her inner walls clench around my finger, and she moans softly, and her head rolls back against my shoulder as she gives in to the feeling I was building up with the friction.

However, it is short-lived when I hear the screech of tires, and the limo slows.

I growl, peering out my window, and Azalea scrambles off my lap.

My hand slides out of her pants, and an angered growl leaves me as the car comes to an abrupt stop.

We are stopped by the side of the road, just outside the pack borders and men surrounded the vehicle.

Snarling, I hear Damian get out of the car and listen to him talk to Alpha Dean’s men, who are trying to refuse us entry.

Reaching for the door handle, I toss it open and climb out.

Six werewolves are arguing with him about there not being any announcement of our arrival.

My aura slips out as I stare at the man with his gun pointed at Damian’s chest. Damian snarls, unflinching, and daring the man to pull the trigger.

“Issue?” I ask, shutting the door behind me. The other men were smart enough to back up, but one sniff of the air, and I could tell this man was the Beta. His scent was more substantial than the others.

“I would have thought after your Alpha’s experience with stepping out of line and giving my men orders, that the rest of you would have more sense.

Apparently not!” I tell the man while coming up behind Damian.

His mud brown eyes flick to me over Damian’s shoulder and he swallows.

The other five had scampered off, leaving the Beta to fend for himself when they realized they were dealing with Lycan’s and not random fleabag werewolves with no authority or rights.

The man glances around, his curly brown hair blowing in his face when he realizes his pack members had abandoned him.

“No issue, my King. I didn’t recognize you,” he stammers. Lie, the flags on the front of the limo showed our immunity.

“Did you have trouble recognizing my Beta too?” I ask. He pales, glancing at Damian, who held his signature smirk.

“I um… The Alpha, he…” the man babbles like an idiot.

“Your Alpha what? Told you to ignore hierarchy? To hold a gun to a Lycan’s chest?” I ask the man.

“He said not to let anyone in without notifying him first,” the man stammers. Damian glances at me.

“Even the king’s guard?” I asked. The man nods his head.

“Yes. Said that we must be prepared after last time. Two of your men killed the butcher and Mrs. Daley and kidnapped two rogue children,” he says.

“You mean the pedophile I sent them here to kill? And the headmistress that mistreated your Queen?” I ask the man. The man shakes his head.

“They were good people,” he claims, and my eyebrows rise into my hairline.

“Good people don’t rape and sell little girls!

” I sneer, and he opens his mouth and closes it quickly.

His hand tremble and I snatch the gun from his grip before he accidentally set it off.

I tuck it down the back of my pants before punching him, Damian whistles and leans against the hood.

Nothing angers me more than this twit thinking he can deny my men from entering pack lands that are under my rule.

He grunts, clutching his nose as blood sprays out everywhere.

“Do not forget your place, Mutt! And it will always be beneath a Lycan’s feet!

You dare tell my men they can’t enter on the ground I own again and I will have you tossed out and made rogue.

Then you will see how your Alpha treats rogues,” I tell him.

He nods, his eyes darting to Damian before he mutters an apology, and I turn, shaking my head and climbing back in the car.

Now, why are Alpha Dean and Alpha Brock so worried about my men and me coming here? Maybe this trip wouldn’t be so pointless after all.

I slide across the seat, muttering to myself, and my temper ripples just like my aura. “What’s wrong?” Azalea asks me. “Just border controls, forgetting who they are speaking with,” I answer.

She nods, and we starte moving again, yet the further we get into the sleepy town that is in the middle of nowhere, the more anxious Azalea becomes. My earlier mood is gone and replaced with anger for their Alpha, thinking he can tell me I can’t enter without notification. Who does he think he is?

“Abbie told me Katrina took over the orphanage?” Azalea asks, snapping my attention to her and out of whatever mood I slipped into.

“Yes, after Mrs. Daley left,” I tell her, not wanting to tell her Gannon skinned the woman alive and hung her in the basement. The pictures he took made my stomach turn; Gannon was one sick bastard. I shake the thought away and watch as she chews her lip.

“What are you thinking right now?” I ask her, and she rubs her belly without realizing it. I try not to smile at how she cradles the slight bump in her hand.

“I wondered if the children would still remember me,” she says.

“You want to go back there?” I ask, a little shocked. She shrugs, chewing on her fingernail, looking unsure.

“I think I do,” she finally answers.