Page 35 of The Unwanted Mate of the Lycan Kings (Unwanted #1)

His eyes are pitch black and his canines are extended.

His grip tightens, and I choke, my legs kicking at him as he growls louder.

The next second, Gnash bites him. Regan roars, the sound turning my blood to ice as his grip tightens, making me thrash against the weight crushing my throat.

He glances down at his wolf while I claw at his hand, needing him to let go so I can breathe.

“Gnash?” Regan blinks at him, and his crazed expression disappears.

His facial features soften, and Gnash growls, snapping his jaws at his owner.

Desperate for my next breath, I dig my nails into his hand, which draws his attention back to me.

He looks at me and blinks, almost like he’s not sure if he’s seeing correctly or if I’m a figment of his imagination.

My lips part, suffocating in his tight grip, and my head feels on the verge of exploding.

“Human?” he murmurs, and his brows furrow. His eyes go to my fingernails digging into his hand, and he gasps, eyes widening, and lets go.

I land on my knees at his feet and clutch my throat.

Sucking in huge lungs full of air, trying to catch my breath, but I can still feel his lingering grip, like his fingers are etched into my flesh.

Seconds felt like hours while trapped in his hold.

Regan moves, “Zirah you can’t—” he moves to grab me, but I slap his hands.

My heart pounds erratically. “Don’t touch me!” I rasp out while Gnash whimpers, nudging me with his nose.

“Let’s go,” Regan says, ripping open the door and walking out. I stare after him, wondering what came over him, when Gnash whimpers, nudging me once again. I pat his head, my fingers trembling as I clutch his fur, pulling myself to my feet.

Regan doesn’t wait for me. Instead, I lose him and have to rely on Gnash to show me the way. Gnash leads me to the dining hall where I hear quite the commotion. Regan is screaming at his brothers. Glass shatters. A loud banging sound.

Upon entering, I find Regan has Zeke against the wall by his throat, and Lyon is trying to get between them.

“Regan, calm down.” Lyon’s tone of voice is softer than I have ever heard, and he’s got one hand on Regan’s shoulder.

“I could have fucking killed her,” Regan screams back at Lyon.

“You said to watch her. You never said how long!” Zeke shouts.

“You knew I was drinking wolfsbane. You were hoping I fucking killed her,” Regan snarls, slamming Zeke into the wall again before he grunts, staggering back and clutching his side.

Zeke shoves past him. “Well, it appears I now have to do the dirty work for us. You’ve never been a team player, Regan. Instead, once again, I will have to be the fucking bad guy.” Zeke’s dark eyes fall on me.

Regan snarls, looking down at his side, and my eyes go to the blade stabbed into him. His shirt turns a deep shade of red.

Regan pulls the long blade out and grits his teeth.

When Lyon moves to lift his shirt and check his wound, a feral sound rips from Regan’s throat.

Lyon backs away with his hands in the air, and I watch, wondering what happened in the few minutes it took me to get here.

Whatever this is, it has to do with me and what happened when I came up behind Regan in the bedroom.

Zeke smiles. “She looks perfectly fine to me,” Zeke says, and Lyon and Regan’s attention is drawn to me. Regan mutters something but takes his seat, Lyon throws a nervous glance at him but also takes his.

Moving into the room, I drop into the closest chair, and Gnash sits at my feet.

The table is set with every food you could think of and I wait, glancing at the stupid board that is now attached to the wall with all the rules that Zeke is intent on following when it regards me. Yet is willing to break their own.

Regan drops the blade on the table and reaches for a cloth napkin.

He curses, lifting his shirt a little and pressing it against the wound that is spilling blood down his abs and side, and soaking the waistband of his pants.

Shaking his head, he growls, snatching up another knife, but he quickly tosses it aside.

“Fucking dick, you know I can’t heal properly right now.

” Zeke waves him off and passes him a clean butter knife.

Regan snatches it, holding the tip of the blade over one of the candles.

Bile rises in my throat, knowing exactly how much burns hurt.

He waits for the tip to glow red when he presses it against the wound.

He grits his teeth, glaring at Zeke, who only serves to mock him more by smiling at him. When he’s done, he drops his shirt and sets the knife on the table. He grabs his food from the platters, loading his plate. After a few minutes, a servant brings out a bottle of whiskey.

Regan snatches the bottle, not bothering with a glass, and drinks out of it while Zeke raises an eyebrow at him and asks for wine. The servant moves toward Lyon, but he holds up his glass to say and sips his water. My eyes go back to the board when Regan speaks.

“Gnash come!” He calls his wolf, who gets up, Gnash huffs and wanders over to him and I see Regan grab a steak off one of the platters that sit in the center of the table, he gives it to Gnash and pats his head only for Gnash to come to me.

“Gnash, what are you—” his words cut off when he realizes Gnash was coming back to me. Gnash drops the huge steak into my lap and I pull a face.

“Ew, Gnash. No, you eat it!” I tell him, I definitely don’t want it now that he’s drooled on it. Gnash nudges me with his nose, and my stomach sinks at the thought that their wolves have better instincts than they do. At least his wolf cares enough to feed me.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Regan questions, pulling my attention to him.

“One of the rules, brother,” Zeke states while cutting into his steak.

“What fucking rule says she can’t eat?” Regan snaps, and Zeke rolls his eyes.

“The rules are behind you. She can only eat what we give her, and miss Goody Two-shoes over there is too much of a chicken to break the rules. I tried to get her to,” Zeke taunts, his eyes flicking to me.

“Don’t worry. She will eventually, and I can’t wait to punish her for it when she does,” he says, sending me a cruel smile.

Regan turns in his seat to look at the rules before he growls and turns back to the table.

“Who made that rule?” My eyes move to Lyon, who is now glaring at his plate, and Regan presses his lips in a line.

“So she didn’t eat lunch?”

“She refused her lunch, but don’t worry, brother, you didn’t break the rule to ensure she eats three times a day.

I’m always looking out for you. It’s not your fault if she refused to eat.

Though I’m sure her refusal is fitting of a punishment, don’t you think, Lyon?

” Zeke mocks, turning to look at his brother.

Lyon doesn’t meet my gaze but offers nothing on the decision to punish me for not drinking poison.

“Why? What did you order for her?” Regan questions.

“Nothing, I sent the servant to ask, but you slammed the door in her face. I told the servant she could have the same as you, but I find the human to be quite stubborn about dying, unfortunately.” Zeke chuckles.

Regan grabs the bloodied knife. “I’d think twice, brother.

You wouldn’t want to piss me off, especially given tomorrow is my day with her.

I will make it even more painful if you lay another damn finger on me.

” Zeke warns. Regan’s eyes go to me, and he reluctantly drops the knife while shaking his head.

“So do you want me to punish her for you, Regan? I don’t mind, and I think a good throat fucking will teach her the error of her ways.” I gulp, the action making my crushed windpipe hurt.

“By the look of her neck, she’s already been punished,” Lyon states. His head tilting to the side.

“Always ruining my fun,” Zeke mutters.

“One day, I’ll fucking kill you,” Regan snarls at Zeke.

“Such morbid talk for dinner, brother. Choose a topic that is not so depressing. Besides my death, you’ll never manage, not unless you’re suicidal.

Should I call the family therapist? Do we need to have another heart-to-heart?

” Zeke asks, twisting in his seat. Zeke drops his elbow on the table, propping his chin on his hand.

“And how does that make you feel? Did little Zekey hurt your feelings?” he teases.

Regan shoves him, plops back into his chair, and turns to me. “Eat whatever you want,” he tells me, and I glance at the table.

“Make sure you eat well. Goddess only knows what the fuck Zeke will feed you.” Lyon growls, glaring at Zeke, who only shrugs.

Taking their advice, I pile my plate with vegetables before looking at the plate of burned steaks and scrunching my face.

The steaks on their side of the table look much more appetizing.

Standing up, I steal a piece of meat from their side of the table, and they all stop eating to look at me.

Dropping it on my plate, I sit back down and cut into it.

Blood oozes out as I slice the tender piece.

Popping it into my mouth, I chew slowly and try to swallow, wincing when I do and clutching my throat.

I glare at my plate, my stomach growling, yet I know it is going to be torture to eat it.

Regan also won’t wait around for me to do so.

However, when I take another bite, Lyon drops his fork, and Zeke gives me a strange look while Regan tilts his head to the side, watching me.

“What? Have you changed your mind about what I can eat?” I snap at Regan, my voice coming out hoarse, and my eyes dart to my plate.

I didn’t add that much, although it is more than what I would normally eat.

There is enough here to last me a couple of days back in the cave if I rationed it, but Lyon is right.

Zeke will probably give me a damn lettuce leaf to eat tomorrow, so I should try to eat what I can.