Chapter 4: The offer.

Xefia’s pov:

My mouth dropped to my feet, agape and in surprise. I found it adversely hard to mutter up any prayer, I was too stunned and scared to conjure up any thoughts other than, what’s going to happen to me.

The older man dragged me through the stoned hall of the Lycan palace as he led me to his king. “Where are we going?” I asked as I took one a sharp peek behind my shoulder and forward to peer at him.

He didn’t answer, rather he muttered in a rasped tone. “Keep walking.” And I did. I followed, unable to keep my fear from rising.

After a moment of walking up a winding hall, I was pulled into a grand throne room.

The person before me wore a long tunic garment, one that stretched against his broad shoulder and though there was a respectable distance between us one look from him made me feel like I was slammed against the grand wall of the Lycan territory.

I was in Lycan territory.

That sudden realization made me force a lump down my throat.

“Your highness, king Maelor,” the older man that was in the cell with me curtsied in respect, bowing. And I realized a little too late he was glaring at me to do the same.

Immediately I followed suit, my manner abrupt and lacking every grace that it was supposed to.

With a wave of his hand, the older man and I stood up erect, my back my straighter like a ramrod. When my eyes mistakenly passed the king Maelor’s eyes, my breath hitched and I felt heat rise on my cheeks. Swiftly with the speed of a viper I looked away.

When the king turned to his subordinate, my eyes darted back to him. He was tall, and although I couldn’t see his body  beneath the tunic he wore, I could see all the jagged muscles, bronze skin, sharp jawline like a glacier, so sharp and defined that it competed with the edge of crafted glass. His eyes were expressionless, holding no emotions to them, like an empty glass.

When his attention returned to me, he eyed me with curiosity, like one would studying a specimen. When he spoke, his tone was calm, refined, but carried sheer power that resonated through me. “What were you doing in the woods alone?” He demanded with sharp and accessing eyes.

I was slow to answer, chewing my words inside my mouth as I churned my answer, deliberating on lying or telling the truth.

“You are a rogue wolf.” He stated, his words carrying a conviction to them that made my knees tremble.

“No!” I said a little too sharply, then one look from his subordinates made me nudge my head and clear my throat, “no, your highness.” My side still burned from all the assault I was subdued to, however, I forced myself to hold up.

He didn’t seem to buy my words for it, and I ascertain that his patience were running thin. Recalling where I was I took a deep breath as as I made up my mind. “I’m Xefia, an omega from the Bloodhowl pack and I fled.” It took all the courage inside of me to say that.

“We were having a moon festival when I slipped away, fleeing, but close to the border I was caught by——

“Do you know Alpha Ryker?” He demanded with a bite to his tone, his eyes twitched even as he mentioned his name.

“Yes…your highness. He was my mate but he rejected me,” I said, the humiliation from the rejection as well as how naive I was made me curl back like I tasted something sour.

The Lycan king laughed, snapping me from my self loathing to him. When I lifted my eyes to him, I noticed that even as he laughed, it never reached his eyes.

“I’ve been waiting years to deal with Ryker,” he said, eyes fixed steely on me.

That explained the bite to his tone when he mentioned his name. Before I could ask what he meant by that, he filled it in for me. “The Bloodbowl alpha wronged me many moons ago.”

I saw something akin to glazed evil flash in his eyes and I scooted back an inch back. “And I’ve been setting traps ever since for him.”

His words sent a trickle of chill down my spine. What could he possibly be setting for Ryker?  It looked like I wasn’t the only one that had a score to settle with Ryker.

I stood silent, eyes abjectly avoiding him. When I heard his sultry and agile footsteps approaching me. My back straightened like a rod and I dared to look up.

Upon closer look at him, my breath was snatched from my lungs and might I add I forgot to breathe. His eyes, ever sharp, roamed my face like I was a piece he was trying to decipher or understand.

His gaze, though steel-like, felt like a feather to my face in every spot his eyes landed. “What a shame.” I heard him say.

Our eyes met and I felt a zap travel through me.

“Ryker must be a fool to reject someone so beautiful.”

Then he turned sharply, with a fluid grace to his subordinate, “leave us.”

The guards as well as the older man that had led me inside here saluted and marched out.

Now alone with the Lycan king I felt my fear rising. The silence was heavy like a wet cloak suspended by a pin waiting to drop. The silence stretched between us and I grew antsy, fully aware of every nerve writhing and curling inside of me.

He didn’t mention anything as he turned around and stalked to his throne. He sat down with so much grace and poise. Yet his eyes never derailed from me, never darted elsewhere.

It was the way he watched me that made me uneasy. Like I was prey under his penetrating stare. Biologically speaking, Lycan were stronger, smarter and faster than a werewolf and I was not alone with any Lycan but the king of Lycans. My throat bopped and I sought ways to rid myself of my nerves before I passed out as I felt the pain of standing still creeping into my bones.

The wait was excruciating, it was killing me so I spoke up, though with caution, “what are you going to do to me now? Are you going to kill me?”

My voice dropped at the latter question. And I couldn’t explain it, but I found that I was more relieved if I was killed here than to be killed by Ryker.

But the Lycan king let out another laughter, this one held a spark to his eyes and he was genuinely laughing. I didn’t know whether to join in or feel bad about it. With this Lycan it was hard to decipher what he was thinking, though I would confess understanding people hadn’t been my strongest forte.

And then as if I was already bereft of words with his actions, he made a shocking offer. “You can either return back to Bloodhowl pack, to Ryker, your alpha and his claws, or…..”

He trailed off purposely, making me itch to hear his other offer, the other choice I’m left with. Our eyes met, my heart beat in my throat as I awaited what he had to offer like he was holding a water to me after being dry and dehydrated in the desert.

“….or stay on DAGHA and be my queen through a contract marriage and give me an heir.”