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The Lycan King’s Playtoy 133
Dane I had no idea what the hell was wrong with me. I searched every damn inch of the castle: her chambers, the gardens, the training yard, the east wing, and even the goddamned kitchens. Luisa was nowhere to be found. No whispers or sounds; just disappeared. And I was losing it. My hands faintly trembled, though just enough for me to notice but enough to kill it. My wolf stirred under my skin, restlessly growling. But it wasn't just him. It was all about feeling—there's this tightness and suffocation that's gnawing at the edges of reason. Like something has really been torn out from my insides. Like something is going to snap inside. What if she is injured? What if I can never find her? The thought punched the air out of my lungs. A memory surfacing without being recycled-his sprawl of a mother died on cold stone, staining blood like ink under her; eyes turned sober with life going out, silence; silence, crumpling, total silence. "Not again," I muttered hoarsely, fists curling
The Lycan King’s Playtoy 132
LusiaThe masked words floated in the air they felt like drops of poison going in and deep into my chest and spreading slowly and surely like venom through my bloodstream. Kiara was having Dane's child. The thud seemed to echo--cold and leaden--in my heart, and I felt it--like a sharp finality of a door shutting hard. Everything in me scrambled madly to piece together what I had just heard. My already tilted world tilted even further. I blinked once, twice, rapidly, and desperately, as if it were a possible cure to blinding those words off me as if the very act of vision could ever be altered in its most persecuting form to erase the very embittering truth. I gasped; my lips somehow managed to part, jagged laughter bubbling thinly, slicing right through before I could make sense of it. "No way," I stuttered, feeling the very cold disbelief creeping down my arms and legs like frostbite. My eyes were kept on the sight before me: the naked woman squatting in the moonlit clearing, tre
The Lycan King’s Playtoy 131
LusiaThe woods thickened, dark, and impenetrable, swallowing any light that the moon threw into the desolation in its jagged gulps. I was crouched very low in the underbrush with my claws digging into the soft earth, the form of my wolf. Bristling fur accompanied a low growl rumbling in my chest as I stared across the clearing at the lone figure: a woman dressed in a rough, gray servant's smock with, a black mask across her face. The scent was wrong: sharp and pretty foreign, cutting the pine and damp moss like a knife. My wolf wanted to hurl and leap at this threat, but I held my muscles coiled and my eyes tracing every move she made. She was still standing, arms folded in front of her, that mask glimmering slightly where the edge of the moon caught it. "Easy, Lusia," the voice was soft and steady enough to carry above the clamor of rustling leaves. "I just want to help." My snarl grew deeper, lips curling back to display my teeth. Help? I did not trust it—not after Kiara, not a
The Lycan King’s Playtoy 130
DaneMy claws dug into the earth, pinning the squirming figure beneath me, stopping its movement by the sheer weight of my wolf. My snout was inches from their throat, my hot breath huffing against their skin, deep in my chest a growl threatened to erupt. The woods were alive around the wind hissing through the pines; an owl's low hoot cutting into the night my focus was razor-sharp, locked on the hooded shape I'd chased down. Their scent was sharp, unfamiliar, laced with sweat and something else—guilt, maybe. I bared my teeth, ready to tear answers out if they didn't come willingly. "Who are you?" I snarled, my voice a rough scrape through my wolf's maw.The figure stiffened before shimmering like sunlight on water. Fur retracted; limbs stretched and transformed while moments passed, revealing a man lying below me—not the unknown I had expected but a familiar face. I narrowed my eyes as I looked him over: sharp cheekbones, graying hair pushed back, a faint scar curling under his j
The Lycan King’s Playtoy 129
DaneThe room felt strange—too empty, too clean. I stepped in, the heavy oak door thudding shut behind me, and stood alone in the middle, boots cold on the stone floor. The place was absolutely sparkling. It was clean. The guards had scrubbed it clean of blood, bodies, and all signs of the night's chaos. Bolt torchlight now added soft shadows along the walls, but my eyes were fixed on one point: on the spot where he fell, neck opened wide by Lusia's desperate thrust. Polished from his blood-soaked form, the stone waxed gleaming, yet I could still see it—blackening from under him, with slow-motion life leaving him and his twitching empty palm remaining one last time. Gritting my teeth, I tried hard to stare until the truth would rise from the cracks.Who was he? What had Kiara promised him? The questions gnawed at me, sharp and relentless, while the floor beneath was a mockery of silence.A flicker of movement brought me back from the abyss—a shadow darted fast and fleeting past the
The Lycan King’s Playtoy 128
Dane There was blood everywhere. Blood flows on the floor, blood on her hands, blood all around her. Lusia lay sprawled, gasping for breath, ungainly, suspended, with uneven breaths. The other body's corpse lay nearby, neck laid open, and the sword she had thrust in him sprightly glinting under torchlight. My head hurt. Unconsciously, the image of my dead mother flickered behind my closed eyes, but I crushed it and focused on the task ahead. The healer lay dead outside; Kiara was gone. Lusia—damn it, she was something! I kneeled beside her, the cold stone floor chilling me through the trousers, and slid my hands beneath her shoulders. She was limp and slack against me as I hoisted her upright to a sitting position. Her head lolled forward, dark strands of hair sticking to her sweat-slicked face, all too in tune with her dying strength: slack muscles that seemed barely able to hold her together. I braced her all the more firmly in my grip, her blood warmly flowing into my palms. S
The Lycan King’s Playtoy 127
KiaraThe piercing night air brushed against my skin as I ran across the castle grounds with silent boots on the humid dewy grass. Like a ghost, I had slipped out of Dane's chamber. I left Lusia, bleeding and shattered. The corpse of the stranger lay cold on the floor. The chaos I had brewed was still rippling with the sounds of guards shouting from afar and the deliciously dull roar of the enraged mob. Perfect. Dane would be chasing shadows while I drifted into the dark. My dagger felt heavy, the blade clean yet eager for blood. I had accomplished my aim: first, a chink in his armor, second, a wound to Lusia's mind. Now to simply vanish. Halfway to the outer wall, when a hand crushed down on my arm and yanked me back hard. My breath hissed, anger flaring as I spun with my dagger, slashing viciously upward. Whoever had the nerve to touch would soon rue it—the blade was a silver flash traveling in an arc right to the flesh, but the firm grip caught my wrist with vicious force haltin
The Lycan King’s Playtoy 126
Dane As I stormed down the castle's halls, the darkness engulfed me as my heels kissed the stone floor, and my heart thumping frantically in my chest. The air was thick with stale smells, the flickering light from the torches scarcely piercing the dark wall of shadows before me. I had felt it: the invitation, the diversion. Now, every unhurried step toward my room was punctuated by a frantic race against something that I could not name but could damn well feel. Kiara's presence lingered in my mind mostly as a sharp scent, venomous in intent, telling me she had been here. The rabble outside was nothing compared to what she could have done here indoors.I rounded the last corner, my stride quickening, more forceful when I saw it—smeared dark and wet blood—just outside my doorpost. Glistening dully in the halftime gloom, the jagged line of blood froze me in place. I caught my breath in a hard hitch, with a snarl on my lips as I took in the gruesome sight splayed before me. A body cru
The Lycan King’s Playtoy 125
DanePresent day. A shivering man bearing a flickering torch in the darkening courtyard as his only illumination asked one weak and irrelevant question. Had you come to kill my father? That little spark fire of defiance was already extinguished by the weight of my presence. Looking into those erstwhile broad watery eyes, I lost all hearing from the murmurs of the crowd behind him. What did a hundred fools with torches and borrowed rage stirred up by Kiara's lies mean to me? My patience went over the edge like a dry twig yielding under pressure."You know nothing" rolled out of me, deep and cold, like a blade of sound cleaving through the night. It wasn't deafening, and it needn't have been. It settled like lead into their bones, visibly sending shivers down their spines. I could see their shoulders hunched; I could see the gasping breaths."And therefore, you have no right to stand before me and spill filth." Before the words finished drifting away, I was practically there. My sword,
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