Page 11 of The Unwanted Mate of the Lycan Kings (Unwanted #1)
Zeke staggers forward, stopping as he takes in the scene before him. The confusion is evident in his features as his eyes go to the wolf beside me, then to me.
He also has gray sweats on with a black tank top. He isn’t covered in the same ink. His markings look more like tribal designs down his arms, but they have the same runes look as his brother. It’s like the runes blended and morphed into the tribal pattern that covers his arms.
The third brother, Lyon, catches my attention.
He’s dressed in jeans and a shirt, though it is drenched in blood, making me wonder what trap he stumbled upon within the maze because I only stumbled across a few traps, though I am grateful I did by the state of him.
He has a huge cut across his chest that has sliced through his shirt and across his chest.
They all stand there, glancing at each other and at their wolves at my feet. Lyon tilts his head to the side, while Regan still looks at me in shock.
His shock soon dissolves when he smirks. “Out of all them that entered, of course, it had to be you that lived,” he sneers, his eyes flickering dangerously with a predatory glint. “Maybe I will get to have my fun destroying you after all.” He chuckles darkly.
King Zeke growls, eyeing one wolf in anger. “You had one job, Hunter, and you couldn’t even complete it. You useless wolf!” he snaps.
“None of them did. Doesn’t that make you question why?” Lyon asks, his eyes roaming over me from head to foot as if he is looking for what is so special about me.
Well, I’ve pondered the same thing since the moment my eyes opened this morning, so if he figures it out, I hope he lets me know. His words seem to go unnoticed by his brothers.
Glancing down quickly, I make sure my arms are still covered, remembering Malachi’s comment about them hating witches, and one glimpse of my skin and I might as well pick my pillar to burn at.
Maybe the fates don’t hate me after all because my arms are still covered, and no breeze moves across my back, so I know it is covered too. There are no markings on my exposed legs, but they are painted in blood and dirt.
Regan takes a step into the center toward me, and the wolves tense, their eyes going to their masters. Zeke watches his brothers, his head turning from side to side in some silent challenge, and all their eyes fall on me.
My heart thumps erratically at the sudden attention, much preferring their wolves’ growling and sharp teeth to the predators that now watch me. Within seconds of the silent, nervous glances they send each other, all three rush at me. One of the wolves lunges at Zeke’s face in my defense.
King Zeke moves quickly, diverting the attack, but judging by his shocked gasp, he clearly did not expect the wolf to react this way. The wolf latches its powerful jaws around his arm, and its sharp teeth rip through his flesh while he shakes his head viciously.
Zeke roars, shaking his arm furiously before punching the wolf. Still, the wolf hangs on, biting down harder. Regan and Lyon freeze and back up as the other two wolves snarl and snap their mighty jaws at their masters in warning.
A sickening crack sounds, followed by a yelp, and the wolf attacking Zeke hits the ground. Zeke swings a swift kick to the wolf before his enormous body flies toward me.
A whimper escapes me when I see the wolf skidding across the ground and stopping a few feet from me. He whines and tries to get up before collapsing again.
The other two wolves snarl louder, and I notice Lyon back up and put his hands up in surrender. “Settle down, boy,” Lyon tells the wolf, forcing him back while Regan growls at his wolf, Gnash, who is facing off with him.
“Fucking try it, Gnash, I fucking dare you!” Regan snarls at his wolf. Zeke curses, exam ining his arm where his flesh looks like it has been torn apart. Blood gushes out of his arm, dripping from his fingertips and spilling onto the grass below his feet.
“Hunter!” he screams, stalking toward the injured wolf, and my eyes widen when I see him raise his fist. The wolf shakes his head, getting to his feet, just as I stupidly grab him and yank him back.
The wolf rears back onto me with a yelp, and I wrap my arms around Hunter’s wide chest just as fur brushes across my face on one side and my arm on the other.
Gnash and the other wolf growl furiously at Zeke, who stops dead in his tracks with his fist still raised.
“Regan, Lyon, call ’em off!” Zeke snarls.
Regan and Lyon look at each other as the two wolves stalk Zeke, pushing him back, heads dropping and teeth clashing together as they stalk the king.
“Shadow, here now!” King Lyon calls, yet the wolves do not respond. Their eyes remain on Zeke as they protect their injured brother.
“Gnash, come!” King Regan calls to his wolf. Gnash doesn’t even look in Regan’s direction. He’s too focused on his target.
Zeke’s wolf, Hunter, is on top of me, and he crawls off with a slight limp as I shuffle toward the exit behind me. As I do, I watch in horror as each wolf stands off with its owner.
“They aren’t protecting Hunter, Zeke, look. They’re protecting her!” Lyon snaps, pointing at me, and I freeze from my slow escape.
“Where she goes, they follow!” Lyon points out, making me realize that with each slow move backward, the wolves back up with me, but their eyes watch their masters.
King Regan glares at me, and so does Zeke, while Lyon cocks his head to the side. A low growl emits from Regan, and his surrounding aura grows darker, more sinister.
“Fuck this. I’ve had enough of this shit. Gnash now!” King Regan orders his wolf.
His aura floods out like a storm cloud, his eyes turning to pits of onyx, and Gnash whimpers under the command.
His legs shake as he tries not to drop to his belly under the pressure of the command.
I know if I was standing, his command would drop me, which I find odd, auras and commands have never affected me.
Yet, saying that, I have never met a lycan until I came here. As a child, I stumbled across a werewolf once, but Granny killed it quickly. I’ve even seen vampires and pumas, but never a lycan. Granny said they were the worst of fate’s creations.
She told me they could command werewolves, normal wolves, any form of canine, and even weak-minded humans. However, she told me my runes would protect me from a lycan command or vampire compulsion, even help me to see through vampiric glamours.
It makes me wonder if my runes are failing, though they haven’t faded over the years at all.
Now and then Granny touched them up, usually only one here and there, or she added another, not like the first time when I received the biggest all at once.
Gnash whimpers as his legs threaten to give out from under him, and the wolf’s aura trembles and falters under the pressure of its master.
A normal wolf wouldn’t stand a chance against a full-grown lycan.
But these wolves are fed with the kings’ blood, which appears to give them some form of immunity to fight them.
Regan moves toward us, and Gnash and Hunter both drop their heads. At first, I thought to submit, but instead, they bare their teeth as their huge shoulders roll, ready to pounce while they growl menacingly. King Regan stops mid-step when Gnash snaps his teeth at him.
All three brothers look at each other and growl in unison before charging at us. The moment they do, they’re attacked by their own wolves. The kings are trying not to hurt their pets, yet their wolves don’t hold the same fear as they tear through flesh and rip into the kings.