Page 18 of The Unwanted Mate of the Lycan Kings (Unwanted #1)

The three kings leave, and once they are gone, I feel like I can breathe a little easier. The king watches me, then turns sideways in his seat, giving me his full, unwanted attention while leaving one elbow on the table. His fingers drum against the mahogany wood.

“What is it you want?” King Theron asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Nothing you can give me unless you know how to raise the dead,” I tell him, and his eyes flicker black, his lips pursing as he raises his chin slightly.

“Think of something else. I will give you whatever you want. I’m offering you the four kingdoms, a lavish life full of riches and anything you could possibly desire.

” The king’s calm demeanor fades quickly, and his canines elongate.

Shelley clears her throat awkwardly next to the king, and he turns his gaze to her and sighs.

“Shelley dear, fetch me a glass of water, my throat is feeling a little dry and it is making me crabby,” the king orders. Shelley shoots me a worried look but quickly obeys, and I wonder if this is the king’s unstable side she mentioned earlier.

The king turns his calculating gaze back to me. “I will ask once more, what do you want?”

“Nothing, I just want to leave,” I tell him, and he grits his teeth as I continue.

“I don’t care for your riches or your sons.

I can’t be bought. You had me ripped out of my bed, killed my Granny, and you think I would just agree to marry your sons?

” I laugh. This man is insane. What person would agree to such terms, and who in their right mind would marry one of those insufferable men?

“Fine, have it your way. You want your freedom, I’ll grant it, but on one condition.” I lift my chin, wondering what this condition is, yet by the darkening flicker of his blue-gray aura, I can tell his condition is quite sinister.

“Malachi!” The king yells, and Malachi jumps in the room’s corner where he stands. He takes a step forward, and I watch the two exchange in some silent conversation.

Malachi clenches his teeth. “But My King—”

“Do as I ask. I won’t be questioned. She won the maze, she gets to choose her prize, and if that is freedom, so be it.” Malachi’s eyes flick to me, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He quickly bows to the king.

“Ten minutes, make sure it is done!” the king orders as he turns.

“Yes, My King.” Malachi rushes off just as Shelley returns to the dining hall. She nervously hands the crystal glass full of ice water to the king. He takes it and motions toward the table.

“Are you hungry?” I shake my head. I was starving before, yet after seeing Malachi’s nervousness and the way he ran from the room. My appetite is suddenly gone.

“Shelley, go to my safe, fetch a bag of gold, and prepare a bag for Zirah here. Tell my sons they can enter,” the king says, and her eyes move between me and the king.

She bows her head and quickly rushes off, and as I turn to the king, the doors fly open.

Regan, Lyon, and Zeke saunter into the room and retake their seats.

“So, are we allowed to have any input about this?” King Regan asks.

The king shakes his head. Reaching for some grapes.

He pops two red grapes between his lips and chews slowly, watching me.

Butterflies swarm in my stomach nervously under the intensity of his gaze.

Something is off. My intuition tingles violently, and I don’t like the way he watches me.

“No, Zirah here refuses to marry any of you and has asked for her freedom. Since I am obligated to grant her a prize, I shall free her,” the king tells his sons. I glance at them, and King Regan smiles and folds his arms across his chest while leaning back in his chair. However, Zeke leans forward.

“Fine, but she can’t leave with my wolf.”

My eyes flick down to Hunter sitting at my feet.

“I’ll ensure she gives him back. We leave in ten minutes, so if you’re hungry, eat.

We’ll be going on foot,” the king says. The three kings glance at each other, looking confused, but they don’t argue with their father.

I pick at my food, mainly feeding it to Hunter while Zeke glares daggers.

When Shelley returns with a leather pouch in her hand and a backpack over one shoulder, the king rises from his chair, signaling the end of the meal.

“One condition, then you’re free to leave,” the king says. My brows scrunch, and the three kings look at me in question.

“What is this condition?” King Lyon asks.

“You’ll see when we arrive. Malachi is organizing it,” the king states, his eyes straight ahead. He walks toward the huge double doors and stops. Shelley rushes to fit his cape to his shoulders and hand him a huge golden staff. The three brothers whisper among themselves as I rise from my seat.

“Follow Zirah. You have a choice to make, then you’re free to leave. So hurry along, dear. I have not got all night,” the king says. I pat my leg, and Hunter follows me. When I approach the king, he offers me his arm. My eyes move to Shelley, and she inclines her head, telling me to do as he asks.

Slipping my arm through his, I walk alongside the king. As we pass through the castle, I find it is deadly silent. Guards watch us as the king leads me out the grand front doors and down some steps. He then leads me down a narrow cobble path through the gardens toward the tall, pointed fences.

As we approach the guards, they open the enormous iron gates that are wrapped in vines with blooming pink flower buds.

“Where are you taking us, Father? I must leave soon,” King Regan questions.

“I told you, leaving is out of the question. Now be quiet, son,” the king growls. We walk for another five minutes along a private path when I hear hushed voices. Then the sounds of sobs and pleas reach my ears.

Looking toward Shelley, she has her head hung, and I can see she is trying to hide her tears. I swallow, wondering what it is that upset her. I am not left wondering for long when I am led through giant sandstone pillars onto a stage in what appears to be a massive town square.

Guards line the streets, and people are crying and begging. The king lets go of my arm and raises his hand in the air. The moment the people notice him, they drop to one knee, heads bowed.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’ve been called upon today.” The king’s voice booms out loudly. When I look at the crowd, I realize the guards have barricaded the streets, trying to stop people from getting near the stage. Looking down, I find all those kneeling before the stage are women.

“As you all heard last night, the maze trials were won for the first time in thirty years. Howe ver...” The king motions toward me, waving me closer. Malachi nudges me when I don’t move.

I stagger closer, and the king offers me his hand with a stern look of warning. I take his hand, and he tugs me closer.

“Your winner, Zirah, has refused her prize and asked for her freedom.” The crowd lifts their heads, all looking at me with curiosity.

“Now I am sure you are wondering what prize she turned down.” Following his silence, murmurs break out, and my heart races in my chest.

“As you all know, I am trying to choose my successor, and all three of my sons are eligible to claim the High Kingdom’s throne.

The prize she turned down was a marriage.

Now, since she asked for her freedom, I am obligated to give it.

” The crowd’s murmurs grow louder, and the king raises his hand and stamps his golden staff on the stage, making them fall quiet.

“I have granted Zirah her freedom, on one condition, which is why I have had your partners and daughters gathered here.” The king speaks clearly, and I see the three kings step forward, casting confused glances at their father.

“That condition is, Zirah must choose twenty women to survive The Maze Games in exchange for her freedom.” My heart nearly leaps out of my chest as I take in the sea of faces watching me.

The women wail, and parents and men fight to get past the guards.

The king smiles and turns to me, yet the unruly crowd grows angrier.

After a few minutes, the king grows tired and growls, making the town square fall silent.

“Malachi, take Zirah down to pick her twenty contestants.” King Theron orders, and Malachi climbs a few steps toward me and offers me his hand.

“Oh, and Shelley dear, hand Zirah her bag and the gold.” Shelley steps forward with tears in her eyes, and I shake my head, not wanting his blood money.

“You refuse?” the king questions, and I glance out at the crowd, all watching me with tear-stained faces.

“I don’t want your blood money,” I sneer, and the king smiles.

“Very well, now choose!” he growls. Malachi seizes my arm and pulls me down the steps to the rows of women.

With a closer look, it’s easy to see how young the women are. Some of them barely look fifteen. They all shake and whimper with tears streaming down their faces. Malachi leads me past each one and makes me stop. I shake my head at the first row.

They are far too young—just young girls. I glance over my shoulder at the king, who has an unreadable expression on his face. Malachi waves the first row off, and they rush to their loved ones.

The second row is no older than the first. The girls whimper and plead, and their parents plead in the background as Malachi leads me to the end. He dismisses the next row and motions toward the next, but I shake my head.

“You must choose,” Malachi states, but how do I choose who dies for my freedom?

Turning, I see the three kings watching me, and I move toward the stage. “Are you confused about whom to choose? I can ask my sons if they have a preference?” King Theron asks. I glance at the three kings, who look furious with their father but remain quiet.

“I know Zeke likes the innocent ones. All virgins, come forward!” The king orders, and the women whimper.

“Remember, my guards can tell who is pure or not. Now step forward!” The king orders. The girls stumble forward, clutching each other and crying. They are all so young, but some of them moving forward are a little older.

“Let me help narrow it down for you,” the king states, looking at his sons.

“Lyon has a thing for brunettes. All brunettes step forward,” The king orders. Around twenty women step forward at various ages, while those with blond or red hair are led away. The king then turns, looking at Regan.

“Regan is harder, though. He’ll fuck anything with a hole that is willing to die on the end of his cock.” The king ponders, steepling his fingers under his chin.

“Regan likes curvier girls, tits and ass, Father,” Zeke sneers while glaring at me.

“Fine then. Guards, grab the bustier girls.” The girls scream as they are ushered forward and the rest are released. “Now, that should make it a little easier. Go ahead, Zirah. Pick twenty to enter the trials. They will enter tonight and be put through the three tests.”

I gulp, turning to face the human women. Most look defeated and have given up hope. Around forty remain, and most of them are younger than me.

“You have ten minutes, or they all enter the maze,” King Theron states. The women wail and cry, and my heart breaks for them.

Walking around, Malachi orders each to state their name and age. Knowing their names makes it harder to decide, but if I don’t, they will all be forced to enter. Looking at the crowd behind the guards, I see tearful parents and lovers watching in horror.

The girl who steps forward whimpers. Her lips quiver, and her blue eyes shine with tears.

“Leila, ma’am. I’m sixteen,” she murmurs, looking to the side of me.

I follow her gaze to see an old woman who reminds me of Granny, though she holds a walking stick and looks rather frail.

A young boy sits at her feet with his knees pressed to his chest as he sobs. He can’t be more than six years old.

“Please, they have no one else to take care of them,” the girl whispers, and I turn my gaze back to her. She’s in a maid’s uniform, not just any uniform either, one that matches Shelley’s. I swallow when the king calls out.

“Time is up. Since you failed to decide, the guards will lead all of the women to the maze.” The women scream as the guards move in, and Chaos ensues. Families cling to their daughters and lovers as the guards pry them away.

Panic floods my system. I don’t know where to go or who to help. The king watches me with a smug smile, and his sons watch on with gritted teeth.

Regan steps forward. “Father, some of these girls are children. Send them home!” Regan snarls.

“She was given a chance!” King Regan shakes his head and balls his hands into fists.

“You’re signing their death certificates,” he snarls at his father. The guards force them to the cobble passageway behind the stage that leads to the castle. As the first one climbs the steps, I feel sick to my stomach.

“Wait!” I call out. Everyone quiets, and the guards stop while everyone turns to me. The king raises an eyebrow at me.

“I’ll do it!” I snarl angrily.

I can’t force these girls to their deaths for my freedom, nor could I live with knowing any survivors would be left to suffer at the hands of the three kings.