Filed To Story: Traded To The Lycan King Novel (Colette & Merikh) by MG Wattsons
“Maybe silence is the best route for us.” He grits out.
“My thoughts exactly.” I grumble. “Follow my lead and try not to get yourself and me killed.”
The tension between us is thicker than it was before I gave into the pull of the bond. I can feel every look he gives me, as if his eyes were a stream of fire from a dragon’s mouth on my back.
“What do we do when we find Ezrah?” I ask him.
“You don’t have to worry about that.” He says, not happy with me. I exhale, showing him my dissatisfaction.
“Well, the last time you saw him, you went crazy and nearly got us both killed. So forgive me for wanting to know what the hell to expect.”
“You know, I kind of thought fucking you would make you a little less uptight and snarky,” he snarks from behind me.
My emotions swirl in a mixture of homicidal rage and disappointment as my body responds to the thought of us having sex earlier. I had hoped it would lessen the desire to be in his arms, or at least put it off for a while longer. And yet, his anger only sets me off in a blaze of desire.
“Can you not say things like that?” I hiss at him, whirling around to shove at his chest. He stands, unmoved, looking down at me. “What part?” He teases.
“The part where you said you guys fucked.” I hear behind me. Hayes grins, his arms crossing over his chest as he looks over my shoulder.
“I wondered if you would find us first,” He says with a chuckle. I refuse to turn around, my face blazing red with embarrassment. The last thing I want to do is look at Marcos and everyone else.
“Well, we didn’t exactly sit and twiddle our thumbs after watching you two go into the water. And here we thought you guys were in real danger.” Nisha says, a teasing lilt to her voice.
“Well, it wasn’t exactly a fantastic adventure.” Hayes says before he smirks, his eyes meeting mine before he winks. “Other than the quickie, of course.”
Anger blooms and I glare up at him, tears threatening to fall down my cheeks. It’s not that I like Marcos exceedingly well. I may have played it off that way to Hayes, but the truth is. That wasn’t just sex to me, to him it was. I know that now.
He used me, and now I am the butt of his joke. Just another fallen woman at his feet for him to laugh at with his war buddies. Shame on me for giving in. Shame on me for still having an ounce of feelings for him.
“Fuck you, Hayes” I grit out, low.
“Sounds like you already did,” Koda teases and I inhale deeply, spinning to look at everyone, my shoulders squared.
“Enough.” I hiss, looking back at Hayes. His smirk falters as I shake my head. “You can share details and laugh all you want when I am out of earshot.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Dean offers, clearly trying to be nice.
“No, I’d rather be alone.” I grumble, yet again finding my heading and walking away.
*Hayes*
“No one goes anywhere alone,” I remind her, my voice threatening as I take two steps after her. Her red hair flips around, loose strands brushing over her flushed cheeks as her eyes bore into mine.
“Send someone with me and they will come back with a black eye.” She says. It almost sounds like a warning, but the more I see the anger burning behind her glare, the more I realize she is making me a promise.
“Even Marcos?” I murmur low enough for her to hear, then I quirk a single brow in retaliation for her attitude.
“I don’t discriminate when I am angry.” She says, taking two steps away before she turns on her heels and walks off into the trees.
I watch her with my stomach twisting in knots as my fingers twitch and my jaw clenches. She walks off gracefully with her head held high and yet, my eyes fall to her waist, watching it sway from side to side like a sex crazed idiot.
Should I have stopped myself? Maybe. Did I want to? No, and therein lies the problem. Nisha used to scratch an itch. For many of us, but that is why Koda does not care about her past.
We meant nothing to her, and she meant nothing to us. She is a friend, someone who was as broken as the rest of us, just seeking comfort for a night, a way to forget and not look back.
But Kyra…She tastes like my past and somehow my future. I restrained myself long enough to make sure she was willing and okay with what happened…but beyond that; I was selfish, and I didn’t need another reason to hate myself. And yet, here I am, crossing off another mark. Reason five hundred something for why I deserve to die.
“Everything all good?” Dean asks, stepping up next to me.
“Yep.” I lie and from the corner of my eye, I can see him nodding.
“So we are going to lie to each other now?” He asks, and I look over my shoulder for the others. Koda and Nisha chat with Marcos, who watches the place where Kyra disappeared as if trying to will her back.
“Does it count as a lie if I’m lying to myself about it, too?” I mutter, my chest rising with a deep inhale before I blow the air through my nose, trying to center myself. Kyra seems to weave her wed around me in every damn way possible, and I am tethered to her. Everything about her just…sets me off.
“Maybe you should go after her,” He offers and I scoff.
“Are you kidding me? She will one hundred percent punch anyone who goes after her.” I snort. “No, I will let her calm down and when she comes back, everything will be fine.”
“Or it will be worse.” Dean says, and I scowl at him.
“Well, that is not fucking helpful.” I mutter and he slaps me on the back.
“Didn’t say I was trying to be helpful, just trying to be someone you can talk to.” He grins.
“Hayes…” Marcos says, walking up to me and Dean with a look of worry. “Can I talk to you?”
I furrow my brow and look at Dean, who puts his hands up and steps away, leaving me with the only person I feel like beating to a pulp for no reason. Well, perhaps there is a reason, but not one I am ready to acknowledge yet.
“What’s up, Marcos?” I ask him and he clears his throat.
“Did you or Kyra have any injuries that needed to be looked at?” he asks.
It is obvious he is disappointed, or at least forlorn. Clearly, he likes Kyra as much as she likes him. Well, maybe more, considering she ended up in my arms and not his.
I smirk to myself, relishing that little nugget of information. She chose me, even if she didn’t mean to. Even if I don’t deserve it or her, I was the one she sought comfort and pleasure from.
“Kyra was struck pretty hard and knocked out for some time, but she seems fine now.” I tell him. His eyes widen.
“She seems fine?” He asks, disbelieving. I adjust my stance, turning toward him as I cross my arms over my chest and look him up and down.
“Yes, she seemed fine. She was banged up pretty good, but I could see her wounds healing as she slept.” I tell him, my voice harsh, to remind him I am still the person in charge here, even if he doesn’t like me very much right now.
“And you didn’t think that maybe her agreeing to have sex with you might be a part of her injury?” He asks, again, like I am some idiot.
“I assure you, Kyra was given ample opportunities to say no and stop, and yet she chose not to.” My tongue rolls over my teeth when realize he is insinuating I took advantage of her in some way, that she might not have been in the right state of mind to make the decision she made.
For a second, my heart stutters… is he right? Did I take advantage of her when she was injured? Had she seemed like she wasn’t in control of her thoughts or actions?
Truthfully, I can’t recall. I was too caught up in her and the way she looked at me. The way she kissed me before I had the chance to close the distance. And the spark…the one I can still feel at my fingertips. My hands clench and I scoff, chuckling dryly as I pace away from him, only to turn my rage on him.
“Are you saying you think I took advantage of her, Marcos?” I grit out. He blinks at me, his body unwavering as I get in his face, ready to tear him to shreds.
“I am asking.” He says. “Did you take advantage of her, Hayes? Are you certain it was what she wanted?”
Fuck.
I drag my hand through my hair, taking a few steps back before I shake my head.
“No. No, I did not take advantage of her.” I say, certain. Well, mostly certain. “I know Kyra better than I know myself. Not only would I never do anything to hurt her, I would have been able to read her enough to know she wasn’t being herself.”
He exhales deeply, looking comforted by my answer. “This may sound off but, how did she look? Skin wise, was her chest discolored or her side?” “Uh,” I think back, trying to recall how she looked before I pulled the shirt over her body.
She was bruised nearly instantly. But she was covered in dirt and mud, so verifying what was bruising and mud wasn’t exactly easy. And when we had sex, I didn’t exactly undress her. It was unromantic, and quick.
Hell, it was more than scratching an itch like I made her feel. It was a need. Like a traveler lost in the desert for days who just found water. It felt like it was life or death.
“You don’t remember?” Marcos asks, “I suppose it must not have been that bad if you can’t recall it.”