Page 26 of The Unwanted Mate of the Lycan Kings (Unwanted #1)

She drops her gaze when he grips my wrist and tugs me out of the door.

He leads me back into the busy street and down a few stores, stopping at a building with dark windows and a beaded entrance.

I glance up at the sign moments before Regan pulls me through the beads and opens a glass door.

A bell chimes our arrival, and a woman wanders out from behind the counter.

She glances between Regan and me, yet the moment our eyes meet, I know there is something more to this woman. Her energy radiates power.

“My King, what brings you here?” she asks, yet her eyes remain on me, and her lips tug in the corners. Looking around, I see she has pants!

“This one needs clothing,” Regan tells her, nodding in my direction.

The woman nods and purses her lips. “Size?” I almost groan, having not paid attention in the last store, so I am shocked when Regan gives her my measurements.

She hums and nods. “Well, we have this section, which should be mostly your size. What are—”

“Something with long sleeves,” Regan says, as he runs his fingers over the racks. The woman nods and grabs some stuff, holding it up, but everything is...floral. What is it with people wanting to look like a flower around here?

I am about to shake my head but freeze as Regan plucks a few things off the rack that are free of embellishment and busy prints. The clothing he chooses looks more like what I would make myself.

“Try these on, and leave whatever that crap Shelley has you wearing here so she can burn it,” Regan orders, thrusting a dress into my arms.

The woman motions toward a curtain, and I pull it back to find it is some sort of booth with a mirror taller than me.

Slipping inside, I hang the new clothes up and get undressed.

Folding Shelley’s clothes into a neat pile, I can’t help but wonder why I can’t give them back to her. Why must I throw them out?

Shaking my head, I pull the black dress on.

It flows to the floor, hugging my hips, and the neckline plunges rather low in the front.

Seeing my breasts on display in the mirror, I tug and twist the open front, trying to tuck them in and pinch the top closed, but the style of the dress doesn’t allow it.

Despite having long sleeves, it fits like a second skin, and the stretchy material hugging my curves makes me feel more exposed than when I wore Shelley’s short tops.

Yet the longer I stare at it, the prettier it looks, especially when I see the straps on the back hanging down.

I hold them up, wondering why I have tails.

Walking out of the dressing room, I am about to ask the woman what to do with them when I find Regan sitting on a bench holding a heap of clothes across his lap with his phone in one hand.

“Does it fit?” he demands, looking up as I am stupidly holding out the bits of fabric that make me feel like a bat. His eyes roam over me and flicker black. He suddenly stands, and as the woman rushes over to help me, Regan steps in her path, grabbing the pieces of lacy fabric from my hands.

He begins crisscrossing them over my waist and hips before spinning me around and tying them at the back.

Great! How am I supposed to tie that by myself? Regan then spins me around to face him. Looking down at my feet, he clicks his tongue, then wanders off to grab a pair of heels.

“I’m not wearing those.” I shake my head, and he presses his lips in a line before finding these strappy sandals and another pair of silky flats.

He nudges me to sit in the chair he was in before he lifts my skirt.

As his hand skims up my bare leg, I nearly slap his face, but he catches my wrist before it connects with his face.

“If I wanted to fuck you or touch you sexually, I wouldn’t have added that rule to your side, Zirah,” he snaps, letting my wrist go.

“So you do know my name after all. That’s the second time you have said it.” He silently laces the shoe up my leg before moving to the next, but his hands linger far too long.

He leans closer, his face barely an inch from my mine, and sniffs the air. “You really are pure, aren’t you?” he questions, leaning back to look at me.

“Excuse me?”

“Untouched. You’re a virgin.” My face heats at his words.

It’s not like I don’t know what sex is. I heard the echoes in the caves, but I wasn’t sure if they were cries of pain or ecstasy—not that it mattered at the time.

Granny and I were very much alone in those caves.

Yet my face heats under his judgmental stare.

Is being a virgin something to be ashamed of here? Regan raises an eyebrow at me.

“You can really tell? I thought the king was just saying that to make the women fear lying.”

“Virgins smell different. Their scent isn’t as potent.”

“How so?” I question.

He thinks for a second. “I don’t know.. .just different. For example. ..” He grabs my hand, brushing his thumb over the back. He then holds my hand to my nose. I can smell his touch on my hand. It’s a masculine scent, like the smell of the woods after a storm. Refreshing.

He shakes his head. “Of course, you’re human.

You don’t have the same sense of smell. You’ll just have to take my word for it.

You smell different from other women. I can smell their lovers on them, but it’s different than just me touching you.

” He frowns before continuing. “I can smell they’ve lost their innocence. ”

I nod, but even as a human, I can still smell his scent—even before he touched me.

Regan pulls my skirt down. “How do they feel?” he asks, and I wiggle my toes.

“Fine.” He nods once, grabs the other clothes, and passes them to the woman. She wanders off, and Regan turns, plucks the tag off the dress I’m wearing, and moves to follow her.

“I got the other stuff you asked for,” she tells him, pointing to a stack of lacy undergarments and pajamas. There is also a pile of pants and socks. I hold up the bra with furrowed brows.

“It’s a bra,” Regan deadpans, and I shoot him a look.

“I know what it is. I’ve just never worn one before.” Though this breast contraption would have come in handy for storing crystals. Instead of Granny pulling my hair so tight she could shove them in my hair or the bracelets she used to make that I always lost when hunting.

“It helps keep things where they should...Not that you need it ye—” His eyes dart to my breasts. He clears his throat but doesn’t finish what he was going to say.

The woman chuckles. “I think he approves.”

I glance down at my chest. I’ve never understood why men get so excited over lumps of fat on a woman’s chest created to feed a child.

Regan growls at her, but she does not seem to be bothered in the slightest by him. He looks down at me, and his eyes flick to my cleavage before he smirks, not even caring that I know he is looking at them.

I shake my head, fighting the urge to cover myself before remembering the coin purse Shelley gave me. I hand it to the woman, not sure what to do with it.

She shakes her head. “No, take them. Your money is no good here, Zirah.”

I tilt my head to the side. “You know my name?”

“The entire city knows your name, dear. You saved my daughter from entering the maze. I owe you a great debt, and so does half the kingdom. We look after our own.” Her eyes go to the king.

I shake my head, trying to push the bag toward her. “Please take it,”

She shoves it back at me before bagging the items.

“Well, if you won’t take her money, take mine.

She is stubborn and won’t leave until you have been paid, and I have work to do,” Regan tells her, pulling a card from his wallet.

I watch in curiosity as he inserts it into a machine and moves to press buttons on a number pad.

He raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re not supposed to watch. ”

“Sorry, Shelley gave me one of those things, but she never told me what to do with it.” I look away, wondering why it is a secret if everyone has one. Regan clicks his tongue and pulls me in front of him.

“The chip goes in here. You slide it in.” He pushes the card into the device again and points to the screen.

“Then you choose credit or debit.” He points and shows me. “You press the button, then type the pin in.” He presses four digits. “Hit okay and done.”

“Shelley never told me about a pin,” I mutter, and Regan sighs, grabbing the purse and pulling it out. “She wrote it on the back. This one is different, see?” He shows me.

I nod, still confused. He grumbles and tucks my card into his pocket. “Just use this one. I’ll order another,” he says, handing me the one he just used. It is a different color than the one Shelley gave me.

I raise an eyebrow. “Won’t you need it?”

“I have other cards I can use.” He shrugs. I have so many questions, like how the money went into the machine and how it got in the card. Granny may have left a few things out of her teachings.

He grabs my bags and my hand, tugging me toward the door. “I thought you said that your brothers are going to kill me. If that’s the case, I don’t think I need money.” I taunt.

“They will eventually. That’s why I’m not worried about you sending me broke.” He laughs. I shake my head as he opens the door.

“Zirah!” the woman behind us sings out, and as I stop and turn, Regan growls.

The woman rushes over. “Stay where you are, but lift your hair for me.” My brows furrow, but I do as she asks.

She moves her hands in front of my face, revealing a leather and lace choker with a black obsidian stone nestled into the center.

Hanging off the choker on the first drop-down tier is a smokey quartz stone, and the last tier is black amethyst.

“We look after our own,” she repeats, and my fingers brush over the inside of the leather before she places it around my neck.

I glance at her in awe, but it’s not the choker that shocks me, it’s the runes that are inscribed on the inside where no one will see.

Runes mean protection. They won’t work the same as Granny’s, but I know this is her way to tell me what she is and that she knows what I am—one of her own.

“Tell Shelley I said hi,” she smiles knowingly as I glance at her aura, tilting my head while she finishes tying the necklace in place. She’s a mystic, like Granny. My lips tug in the corners. “The kingdom has waited a long time for someone like you.”

Regan scoffs. “Yes, because a human ruling will really keep you safe from the Bloodtaric Kingdom,” Regan sneers.

“No, but she will keep us humans safe from the lycans.” Without waiting for a reply, she walks away.

I turn back to find Regan staring at me.

He pinches the choker, running his thumb over the black obsidian that sits in the center, then down to the smokey quartz before his thumb brushes over the last stone nestled between my cleavage.

“It’s black amethyst,” I blurt stupidly, and his eyes flick to mine.

“You know about crystals?” He questions. I bite my lip and nod my head.

“Yeah, we would find all sorts of crystals in the caves,” I tell him, and he nods absent mindedly while looking back toward the counter at the woman now folding clothes.

“Come on.” He grabs my hand, leading me out. Regan is quiet on the walk back to the castle, but his grip on my wrist is firm as he tugs me along after him.

When we arrive at the castle gates, he passes the bags to one of the maids and stomps off immediately into the massive entertainment room Zeke was in earlier.

Walking past the entrance, I notice Zeke lazing in the armchair with a drink in his hand, watching his brother.

Lyon has his feet on the coffee table and a drink in his hand.

I immediately notice Hunter isn’t with Zeke, and I am about to ask where he is when Lyon speaks, making me freeze.

“What happened to your suit?” I had completely forgotten about the currents I mashed on his pants. Zeke tilts his head and then snickers.

“That explains your mood! Wrong time of the month, brother?” he laughs, and Regan looks over at him. Noticing them looking at his pants, he twists, and I duck behind the massive vase that is as tall as me in the entryway.

He growls furiously. “That fucking brat!”

Lyon snickers, and I hear a glass break before stomping footsteps. Holding my breath, I press against the wall, trying to hide behind the vase more.

“Where are you going?” Zeke laughs.

“To deal with her,” he growls, stomping off toward the stairs. I cover my mouth, trying not to laugh. When he is out of view, I step out from behind the vase, but someone clears their throat, making me jump. Lyon is leaning against the wall just in the entry.

“Run, human. I’d hate to be you when he gets his hands on you.” He laughs, wandering back into the room. I peer in, and when Zeke smirks, I quickly rush off to look for Shelley since I can’t go back to my room.