Filed To Story: Traded To The Lycan King Novel (Colette & Merikh) by MG Wattsons
“Hey Merikh,” I say, struggling to keep the quiver from my voice. “I am going to have you sit here for just a minute, okay?”
“Where are you going?” he asks, growing clingy and nervous. I press pull his head down to meet mine and nuzzle my nose against his, taking a deep inhale of his scent.
“I just need to talk to my dad for a minute.” I whisper, and he groans in annoyance.
“You are always speaking time with him and not me,” he pouts. “I miss my little luna.”
I grin to myself, “And I miss you, too. I promise it will only be a little bit.”
“Fine,” he groans, rolling his eyes.
I ease him to the ground and rush over to my parents, dragging them aside and looking them in the eyes.
“Tell me there is something water can do to heal him, or maybe cleanse his blood?” I ask, placing both hands on my head as the air grows thin, making it harder to breathe.
The panic attack is coming, the one where I become a sobbing mess and am of no use to anyone. Merikh is the stable one, the one who holds me when I break down or just break in general.
“That’s not how a vampire bite works, sweetheart.” Caspian says with a frown.
“Could it hurt to try?” my mom asks and he frowns.
“Colette is not strong enough to even attempt something like that.”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes.
“I wasn’t referring to her. I am referring to you Caspian.”
He arches a brow and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Oh, so we are on speaking terms again?” he asks, and she narrows her eyes.
“This is my Alpha, my daughter’s mate. I will speak to who I need to and ask for favors when I choose for their sake,” she snaps out, and he stares at her, stone faced and unmoving.
“I may be of service.” Ezrah says sauntering over to us, his hands in his pockets as he looks like he glides across the sand.
“I want nothing from you but explanations.” I hiss my lycan, coming forward and making my words morph into a command rather than a basic statement.
“And what should I explain?” He asks, looking confused.
“I am a messenger. I delivered the message via way of the person I was told to bring.” He protests.
“You brought a fucking fox into a henhouse, Ezrah. Either you are working for them or you are a coward and I can’t decide which one you are yet.” I scream at him.
“Go the fuck away.” I growl and he exhales.
“He can help him.” Caspian says gently.
“Bullshit.” I grit out.
“You either let me try or you wait for him to die. You don’t have to trust my motives, but trust I will help him.” Ezrah says, and I groan in anger. “Fine.” I mutter, clinging to Merikh’s hand. “Hurry up.”
I pace the old wooden porch of the small cabin we have been staying in. Well, where I have been sleeping and Mom, Merikh and Calvin have been living. Guilt runs rampant in my mind, tearing apart a decision I have made in the last near week.
Should I have come? Should I have allowed Merikh to even stay with me, or would it have been wise to send him with our pack, insist he be where he should be?
“Stop doing that,” Caspian says, sighing heavily as he pushes himself up from the swing hanging from the old rickety ceiling.
“I can’t sit still,” I say, shooting daggers from my eyes in his direction. A frown tugs at his lips as he shakes his head.
“That is not what I mean, Letty.” He says, his gentle father’s voice turning on. “You can not change what happened by standing here and thinking about how you could have done something differently.”
“What would you prefer I think about? A life without him? Preparing for a world where he does not exist-” I pause, my voice cracking as my eyes water. Then I clear my throat and roll my shoulders. “You are right. I can’t change what has happened in the past. But staying out here, waiting and doing nothing doesn’t help anything either.”
“You should be training.” He says, simply. My eyes snap to his, my blood boiling at the mere suggestion of leaving Merikh alone and at the hands of fucking Ezrah.
Ezrah who has been at every turn when shit goes down. Ezrah who works for no one yet everyone at the same time. The damn messenger who seems to think his neutrality wins peace when all it does is bring war to everyone else’s door steps and he delivers it.
“I do not trust him.” I hiss out, unable to tone down the anger that oozes from every part of me.
“He is in there, of his own accord, trying to help,” Caspian says with a frown.
“He is in there fixing the fucking mess he created by bringing the fucking abomination to our doorstep under the guise of ‘I am a messenger, this is what I do’,” I scream at Caspian. His eyes turn dark.
“Ezrah has been a trusted friend for many, many years,”
“As was your mate, yet now that you found her, you ignore her and suspect she is a plant among us, while your trusted friend delivers a messenger who might have killed a council member, the lycan king. MY FUCKING MATE!”
His lips twitch and his nose flares as he breathes through it heavily and looks away from me.
“I did not say your mother was a plant to spy on us,” He whispers and I snort a sardonic laugh.
Caspian avoids the topic of Melody at every turn. I ask when he will speak to her, but he changes the subject. I ask him to come to the cabin but he was too injured and still recovering. He is near her and he can’t seem to find words to be civil.
He doesn’t have to say what I already see on his face when he looks at her. Caspian wants her to be the bad guy, so he doesn’t have to bear the guilt of her suffering for ten years while he sulked and blamed her for my proclaimed death.
“You don’t have to say it for everyone to know what you are thinking.” I scoff, shoving past him. I pace over to Zale, who sits in a rocking chair, an exasperated expression on his face as he watches everything unfold.
“Zale?” Caspian asks, looking at the siren male, who clears his throat and lifts his hands.
“I wish to remain out of this, my king.” He says, bowing his head.
“Fine.” Caspian whispers. “Fine. Yes, there is a fear that they got to your mother. Can you blame me? You are taken, your gamma killed, and they place you next to your mother and somehow you escape with her? Why? What do they gain from that? It feels too convenient, all of it does.”
I take a step away from him, then turn and lean on the white railing of the deck. He makes valid points, but convenience doesn’t equal guilt, just like fear doesn’t foster loyalty.
“Mom is not a spy, and they did not turn her.”
“How can you be so sure?” he whispers, and I see the conflict in his eyes. For the first time since recognizing him as my father, I feel a flicker of disappointment.
“Her body is beyond repair, even for her wolf to heal, even now after being freed. She was locked in a damp, dirty cell with bars of silver. When I cried, she let those bars burn through her skin with no thought to her own pain so she could touch me, comfort me.” I say, pushing off the railing.
“I can’t hear this,” he says, that inner conflict turning to sheer agony.
“That means you need to.” I say in a low voice. “Mom was beaten regularly, bones broken, meals skipped and no sun in ten years. They toyed with her by playing tricks with magic and using a fake version of me as bait. And yet when I was there, she was so willing to trust me, to believe me because she was desperate. She needed something to live for.”
“Colette Lynnae, that is enough.” My mother’s voice says from the doorway. I spin to see her holding the door frame for stability, her eyes watery. “Melody,” Caspian’s voice breaks, and my mother avoids looking at him.
“That is not your darkness to share.” She says, her voice trembling. “Alpha Merikh is awake and asking for you.”
Then she turns and walks back into the cabin. I rush in behind her, watching as she slips into her room, closing it behind her, the lock slipping into place. Caspian footfalls stop following me as I hear him knock on a door, only to be met with silence.
But I don’t have time to focus as I fly through the hall and through my room to find Merikh sitting up in the bed, looking pale and ghoulish.
I swallow the dryness in my throat, and then lick my lips as I take a few steps toward him. He tilts his head, confusion on his face as he looks over at Ezrah, then back at me.
“How is he?” I ask Ezrah but I don’t look at him, my eyes are glued on the man staring at me.
“He is doing well. Thankfully, you are here and he will heal much faster with you at his side.”