Page 17 of The Unwanted Mate of the Lycan Kings (Unwanted #1)

Gnash sits patiently between my feet, staring at his bowl in my lap.

Grabbing my knife off the coffee table, I slice my palm, fisting it and letting my blood drain into the bowl.

Gnash licks his lips, and I run my tongue over my palm, healing it with my saliva.

Patting his head, I set the bowl down and he instantly drops his head into the bowl, licking it up.

Leaning back in my chair, I watch him for a second.

Relief at having him back settles within me.

I could hardly sleep last night without him hogging the bed and crushing my legs.

Or his constant whining for pats and affection.

He annoys the crap out of me, but he is my oldest friend.

Gnash sits back when he is finished, and I pat the couch when my door suddenly bursts open.

Growling, I turn my head to see my brothers stroll into my quarters. “Have you not heard of fucking knocking?” I growl as Zeke falls into the armchair across from the fireplace.

“You’re the one who wanted to see me!” Zeke retorts, and I hear the door click shut and see Lyon move toward us.

“What are you talking about?” I retort. I never called for him. Zeke turns his gaze to our brother, and so do I, wondering what is going on. I have to get back home, so I have no time for whatever drama they have going on.

“He was going to kill the human. I needed to get him out of her room before he fucked everything up.” Lyon explains, glaring at Zeke.

“I was not going to...” Zeke shakes his head, and by the look on his face, Lyon is right, and Zeke knows it.

“You kill her, you’ll ruin things, and not just for yourself. Father said we if we kill her, we forfeit our kingdoms.”

“Should have let him. He would have lost his kingdom, not us,” I deadpan. What was Lyon thinking? Zeke could have solved all our issues. Zeke growls, glaring daggers at my willingness to sacrifice his kingdom.

I shrug, uncaring, and Zeke mutters under his breath. “She has my wolf!”

“Not my issue!” I tell him, wanting them to leave.

“It will be if he dies. I haven’t given him my blood in three days!

How do you think Gnash will cope? You know they’re all linked!

” My eyes flick to my wolf. He’s right. They are all linked.

My mother was the one who had them bonded to us.

Our blood just reinforced it and gave their lives longevity, yet bonding them to us also bonded them to each other.

When my mother and her wolf died, it took Gnash months to recover.

All our wolves refused our blood, and we had to force it down their throats.

“We’ll have to speak to Father,” I tell him, looking at my wolf.

“He’ll take her side. He has this stupid idea in his head, and now that he has seen our wolves take a liking to her, I know that old bastard will use it against us!”

“So, what do you suggest?” I ask.

Zeke smiles wickedly and sits forward in his chair. “Dad said we can’t kill her!” Lyon snarls, and Zeke’s eyes flicker challengingly to his lycan side.

“Yes, we can’t kill her, but it wouldn’t be our fault if she killed herself.” Lyon looks between us, and I sit back in my chair, pondering what he said.

“You want to break her?” Lyon asks, moving to sit on the lounge next to me. “Aren’t either of you the least bit curious as to why our wolves took to her?”

I was curious, but if it meant marrying her, I could remain curious and live without knowing if we could get rid of her. Gnash whines and yaps at me. Picking up on my thoughts, he tilts his head to the side, watching me with calculating eyes.

“They will be an issue. We’ll have to lock them up,” Zeke suggests, and Gnash growls, turning his deadly gaze to Zeke.

“I’m not locking my wolf in a fucking cage,” I snarl.

Zeke shrugs. “If he gets in my way, I won’t be held accountable for what happens to him.” He glares down at Gnash.

I chuckle and shake my head. “You touch my wolf, Zeke, and Gnash will be the least of your problems. Besides, what do you think will happen to Hunter if you hurt his brother?”

Zeke grits his teeth and curses, sitting back.

“Do what you want to the girl. Either way, I leave tomorrow. I won’t be here.”

“Neither of you have heard?” Lyon asks, and we both turn our attention to him.

“Father said we are to remain here.” Lyon shrugs, not seeming the least bit bothered by that information.

“I can’t. I have a meeting with King Slavic in two days. I need to prepare.” Lyon shrugs.

“The Bloodtaric Kingdom?” Zeke asks curiously.

“Yeah, trade issues, but I also need to speak to him about something else.”

“Oh for the love of God, you’re not still chasing down that damn oracle! Give up on that already. The curse can’t be broken, and even if it could be, there are no female lycans left and haven’t been in twenty years! When are you going to give up on finding the old witch? She’s dead!”

“She’s not!” I answer, she has to still be out there.

“You’re chasing a ghost, brother,” Lyon adds, making me glare at him.

“Mom said—”

“Mom is dead. Your hunt for that woman got her killed, and it will get you killed, too. Fucking give up on it already,” Zeke growls. I glare at him when Lyon suddenly gets up, drawing our attention to him.

“Well, I am going to see the conditions of this stupid arranged marriage. You can wait here and fight over the oracle or come with me, but either way, I have a throne to take.” Lyon laughs, walking out the door.

As we watch him go, my eyes move to Zeke before we both jump up to follow him.

As I shut the door, Gnash tries to follow, but I point at him, telling him to stay.

Zeke has already lost his wolf. I’m not losing mine to her too.

Stepping out and into the corridor, we pass the human’s room to see her door open and the room empty.

Zeke walks in to quickly see if Hunter remains, coming back out angry when he realizes he went with her.

Leaving our wing, we make our way to the dining hall, only to find her and Shelley on the main floor. I just can’t seem to escape this woman.

We follow the human to the dining hall. My eyes trail over her. The clothes she is wearing reek of Shelley’s scent. I hate it. I can’t stand who Shelley became after my mother was killed. She blames me. They all do. Just none of them are willing to say it to my face except Zeke.

For some reason, smelling Shelley’s scent all over the human repulses me. Something about the girl intrigues me, something I can’t explain. Something has been nagging me from the moment I laid eyes on her.

Hunter walks close to her, and Zeke eyes his wolf and glares. Lyon is too busy checking out her plump ass to notice anything else, but I don’t blame him. Her skirt hugs her waist, showing off an hourglass figure, and I must admit, she is quite attractive.

I want to run my hands over her body to map out her curves, wrap her long, sun-kissed hair around my fist and teach her the manners she so desperately needs.

My eyes roam over her indulgently. The clothes she’s borrowed are a little too tight, but that isn’t surprising.

Shelley is like an ironing board, no curves, pencil straight just like her boring personality.

As we enter the dining hall, the human turns and meets my hard stare, but she doesn’t look away nervously the way the rest of them do. She doesn’t appear to fear me. Maybe that’s what intrigues me the most. Only my siblings and father ever meet my gaze. It’s jarring.

My father looks up from his newspaper, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he does. His legs are crossed as he leans back, laying his paper down on the table.

It is a little too early for dinner, but we’re long past lunchtime. Still, an entire feast covers the long table. No doubt my father asked the chefs to cook everything they can think of to appease our intruder. He has been pushing us to take mates for the past decade without success.

“Come, come join me, Zirah. Boys.” He motions to the chairs but pulls out the one beside him and pats the seat, nodding toward Zirah.

She watches him for a second, looking unsure, before glancing at Shelley, who nods and urges her forward.

Zirah hesitantly takes a step forward, as if she thinks it is a trick.

I don’t blame her. No commoner eats in the dining hall, and especially not in our presence. Let alone sit near the king!

Zirah takes a seat, and my father nearly shoves her into the table as he tucks her chair in, and I roll my eyes at his so-called chivalry. “Dig in. You must be starving,” he urges.

Zirah waits for him to take his seat before calling Hunter to her. My father looks at him. He never allows our wolves at the table, but he says nothing when she calls him to sit beside her.

Zirah glances around at us, and I can tell she feels out of place, and she certainly looks it. Her eyes come back to mine as I sit across from her and motion for the servant to bring me a drink. If I have to endure this shitshow, I may as well get comfortable.

“Can we get this over with over, old man? I have places to be and people to torture back home,” Zeke states as the servant places a glass in front of me.

“You won’t be going home anytime soon, so get comfortable, Zeke.” Father shoots him a pointed look.

“I have meetings with the Bloodtaric’s vampire king in two days, Father,” I remind him.

“You can go to the meeting from here. I am closer to the Bloodtaric Kingdom, anyhow. I will hear no excuses; you can speak with King Slavic from here. No one leaves. Until you can be trusted to go home with her, you will all remain under my watch.”

“Excuse me?” Zeke asks, outraged.

“If you will shut up and let me explain, Zeke, it would be much appreciated,” Father growls at him in warning. Zeke presses his lips in a line.

“Your wolves chose her for you. Now it is up to her who she chooses.” Zirah makes a face, and her eyes move to each of us.

“I am not marrying one of your sons. I don’t care what the so-called prize is. I’d rather die,” Zirah sneers, glaring at us.

“I am offering you a chance to be Queen of the High Kingdom, dear. Most would die for this opportunity,”

“Not me. I was happy enough in my cave away from the kingdoms. Do you think we lived there because we wanted to be part of this elite society? What makes you think I would marry into it? I may have survived the maze, but that doesn’t mean I want the winning prize, King Theron.

And I would hardly call your sons a prize.

They are more of a punishment in my eyes. ”

My father glares at us. “Do you see the reputation you three have? I can’t even give you away. Offer a woman a chance to be queen, and she still turns you down. The women who agreed to marry you in the past, you all killed!”

“We don’t need a bride to rule,” I tell him.

“None of you are worthy.”

“And what, she will suddenly make us worthy?” I deadpan. My father rubs his temples in annoyance.

“No, but...It doesn’t matter. My word is law, and this marriage is going ahead.”

“And if we refuse?”

“Then you refuse my throne and forfeit your kingdoms.”

“And if I refuse?” Zirah speaks up, and my father gapes at her.

“You would honestly refuse a position of power, a position humans have spent decades longing for?” he questions.

“Yes, so if you would show me the door, I will gladly leave and find my own way back home.” My father’s fist comes down on the table, making everyone jump.

“This wedding will go ahead.”

“If death is the only thing you are holding over my head, forget it, Theron. I want nothing to do with your kingdom’s politics or your sons.

I was not born into your world, therefore I care very little for it.

Nothing holds me here, not even death. So your threats are empty because I don’t fear that option either. ”

My father’s jaw clenches as he turns in his seat to look at her. Seconds pass, and we all hold our breath as they stare each other down.

“Sons, give me a moment with your bride,” he says without taking his gaze from her. Zeke scoffs.

“You are seriously dismissing us?” Lyon asks.

“Out!” my father orders, and I grit my teeth, snatching my drink off the table and walking out, only to stop at the door when he speaks again.

“Don’t wander far. I will send Shelley for you in a few moments. I just need to speak to Zirah here for a moment,” he says.

This is ridiculous. His plan is falling apart in his hands. She doesn’t even want us, and we certainly don’t want her, so why is he so insistent to force our hand?