CHAPTER THREE

No one knew the true name of the Lycan King. He was known as the barbarian king to the werewolves. While, the witches called him, the devil incarnate. 

To his people he was likened unto Apollo, the Sun God. Partly because he was so handsome, all the ladies swooned when he entered into a  room. 

He was the lycan king, the most powerful creature in the realm and the one responsible for putting an end to the Great Supernatural War. It was rumored that no outsider had ever seen his Lycan beast and lived to tell the tale.

Cruel, merciless, wicked….

Those were some of the adjectives used to describe him. And now kneeling at his feet, Esme could agree with all that and more.

The man standing before her was the very epitome of dark power. A red scar slashed across his eye gave him a tough, fearsome look. But it was his eyes that grabbed Esme’s attention the most.

Arctic cold, blue eyes. Just like the general’s eyes had been just before he had let go of her. 

The king cocked his head, his eyes running over her body. “So,” he began, his voice as smooth as honey, “you’re the other daughter of the traitor alpha. The one that ran away.”

His mocking words were the last straw for her. He didn’t even care that he’d just killed an innocent man trying to protect his pack.

“You killed my father!” She cried hoarsely. “You killed my father and hung him for the birds to eat, you devil!”

The Lycan king was coldly amused at her outburst. “She does speak after all. I was beginning to think you were  dumb.” His icy gaze pierced her. “And as for your accusations, the  only person responsible for your father’s death was himself.”

Esme hardly heard him, boiling in her rage. “What kind of king are you? You killed an innocent man in cold blood. You’re nothing but a cowardly king.”

“How dare you?!” Slade stepped forward, furious at the way the runt dared to speak to his king. He raised his claws to strike her when the king stopped him.

“A coward?” The king’s voice was soft and dangerous. “That’s interesting considering you were running away to save your own life while your pack was in danger.”

Esme’s face flushed at the rebuke. She wished now that she’d never listened to her father. Perhaps now, he would still be alive.

The king continued. “Do you know what happens to people like that? People who abandon their pack to save their own lives?”

Esme’s heart thudded in her chest. 

“Their legs  are cut off so they can never run anywhere ever again.”

The king chuckled coldly, seeing Esme’s face pale. “Don’t fancy that, do you?”

Esme raised her chin up defiantly. “I don’t care what you do to me. I’ll never beg you.”

“Won’t you?” The king tilted his head, then he flicked his finger and a door opened.

“Isabella! Mother!” Esme cried out, when she saw two lycans dragging their weak bodies into the hall. Isabella was still in her wedding dress and she had mascara streaking down her cheeks.

“What did you do to them?!” She screamed at him, chafing at the ropes tying her hands. “Let them go this instant!”

The Lycan king arched a sardonic brow. “And I thought you were supposed to be the docile daughter. Give me one good reason why I should spare them and if it’s good enough, I will.”

“They are innocent. They haven’t done anything wrong.”

The Lycan king laughed cruelly. “Not good enough, princess. Your entire family has blood on their hands. Innocent blood.”  He turned to his guards, “take them outside. It’s going to be a public execution.”

Dragging them to the pack square, Edme pleaded for the king to have mercy. “If you want to punish anyone, punish me!” She sobbed. She didn’t want any more of her family members to die because of her.

“Oh, don’t you worry, your turn is coming.”  The king promised her grimly.

Dazed, she watched as they prepared the noose that  would be used to hang then.. The most shameful death a werewolf could suffer. 

“Please. Don’t do this. I beg of you. I’ll do whatever you want. Just spare them.”

“You have nothing of value that I could ever want,” the king snarled.

Little did he know, he  would later eat his own words.

As they were about to put the noose around their necks, several things happened at once. 

First, Esme, panicking, launched herself at the king, catching him off guard and they fell together, Esme landing on top of him.

Then the lycans, seeing their king being attacked, made to protect him.

“Esme!”  Catherine shouted. “Don’t touch him!” Her hand stretched out as if she could cause time to move backwards and stop her daughter from touching the king.

But it was too late. Because the moment Esme had flung herself at the king, their skin touched and the matebond sparked to life between them.