Filed To Story: Traded To The Lycan King Novel (Colette & Merikh) by MG Wattsons
“I agree with Koda,” Nisha chimes in. “If we are finally on his tail, we need to keep moving, catch up to him. We could end this within a week.” “The rest of you travel southeast. Kyra, I want to speak with you alone.” I say, commanding her attention. My anger quells under her curious gaze and her head tilts slightly to the side like it always has. If I weren’t trying too hard to keep a straight face, I would almost smile at the little reminder of her before the world went to shit between us.
“What?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest, a quick gaze up at Marcos that makes my heart skip a beat before he gives her a tight smile and follows along with the others. Kyra looks almost more comfortable with his arms removed and it gives me such a sick form of satisfaction.
“You mentioned there is nothing left to be done here,” I remind her and she nods. “So I must ask you now, in your opinion, tracker, which way do you suggest we head in?”
She blinks, walking directly toward me. Kyra’s steps are slow and measured, her eyes focusing on me. It’s not until she is nearly pressed against me that she stops, my stare rivaling hers as she reaches up, the heat of her fingers brushing over my cheek as she reaches up and retrieves an item from behind me.
I don’t know how it happens, or why my body responds this way, but I lean toward her, my very soul just needing this closeness, craving it for these years as I lower my head. My cheek presses to hers.
The softness of her skin does not go unnoticed as something moves inside of me. Maybe it’s the ice around my heart or the rock I have my soul buried under, but it moves, proving that maybe there is life still there.
She gasps, jumping back, her hand on her cheek and eyes focused not on mine, but on my cheek. The scar that had touched her perfect, unblemished skin freckled skin. For a minute, I think it was the shock of our closeness until she clutches her stomach and turns away quickly like she might vomit.
Embarrassment rolls through me, snowballing into a burning disappointment. My lycan whines in emotional pain as I clear my throat and stick my hands in my pocket, trying to not let her know she has hurt me. Why the fuck did I do that? Why did I feel compelled to just…touch her…be closer to her when I know we hate each other?
But I know that is a lie. I have never hated her. How could I? The Kyra I remember was bold and daring but she was kind and always put everyone else’s needs before her own. I didn’t just love her as a friend.
I wanted her.
In every way, a beta should want his mate. I wanted Kyra. I wanted her hand in mine, her lips on my lips, and I wanted her soul entwined in mine. It had nothing to do with the desire to wrap my hands in those fiery red locks of hair and tilt her head back as I leave a barrage of tender kisses up and down her most sensitive skin. I wanted her heart, her soul, her smile every day and to memorize the freckles on her cheeks.
But then I saw everyone with their mate. I watched all of them fall out of love with the people they thought they wanted because of a bond, and I knew it would break her. The mate bond is a gift to those who have never loved, and a stab to those who have.
“I am sorry,” I rasp out, clearing my throat. “There was a rock I was standing on. I lost my footing.”
“No, I should have told you I saw something in the leaves behind you.” She says, her eyes still turned away from me as she kneads her stomach and covers her mouth.
I retract my damaged hand, looking regrettably at the way my flesh twists and shimmers around the tendons and clings to the untainted muscles. Can I really blame her for her reaction? My hand it the least disgusting part of my burns. The side of my face looks as if I have been chewed up and spat out back out for being ill tasting.
“What did you find?” I ask, turning my back to her, trying to calm my anxious, beating chest and force the hurt from her reaction down.
“The leaves match the ones used for the bedding.” She whispers. “Which means he either stood over here or climbed the tree. I was hoping I would be able to see a section where a lot of leaves were missing.”
Kyra clears her throat and steps up next to me, but I notice she stands on my good side. I can’t lie and say that her action doesn’t sting a little, but instead of frowning, I find myself smiling. What I need when I am around Kyra is a solid reminder of what I am doing here. And knowing how much I disgust her, well, it makes it easier. Kind of.
“Then you should have a look up in the tree.” I say, taking a few steps back.
“No,” she shakes her head.
“I thought…” I say, furrowing my brows, my partially burned forehead creasing.
“I can see the section from here,” she points up. But I am already too far from her to notice. “He clipped off a whole branch. I guess he used the wood to burn. Though it would have been green would, so maybe he didn’t…”
She drones off, her words growing more quiet as she circles the tree and talks to herself. I watch as she glides over the rest of the area, moving back to the ashes and then placing her hands on her hips in confusion. It’s adorable how her nose scrunches or she chews the inside of her cheek in thought before moving to another spot again.
After a few minutes, she seems to finally stand still, her head moving side to side as she scans around some more with a frown. Then she lifts one of her hands and drags it through her hair, pulling it from its ponytail. Red locks flutter down her shoulders and over her back midway as she shakes it out and groans.
I clear my throat and she freezes, turning to look over her shoulder slowly. A smirk crosses my lips as her cheeks blush and she quickly lifts both hands, tying her hair up in a quick tight bun.
“You forgot I was here, I assume?” I ask her and she nods.
“Sorry, I got caught up.” She admits.
“And you said there was nothing else to look for here.” I tease her as she frowns.
“There isn’t,” she admits. “But I want to commit this enough to memory to recall things that are a little strange and see if we find them again.”
“So which way should we head, then?” I ask her and she looks away.
“I don’t know, Hayes.” she exhales, sounding defeated. “This is his previous camp. Of that I am certain, and it’s around four days old. But I can’t find any indication of what way he went.”
“Then we travel south east for the time being and you are on alert for anything, and I mean anything you pick up.” I tell her, turning and walking the way I sent the others.
She doesn’t say anything, but after a minute her footsteps speed up and she lands next to me, matching my pace. I notice her attention keeps sliding up in my direction so I heave out an annoyed sigh.
“What?” I ask her and she snaps her gaze forward.
“Nothing.” She says and I frown.
Kyra walks on my bad side, my slight limp tossing more to her side with each step, so I move around her, shifting her to my good side, and she looks at me curiously.
“Why did you just switch sides?” She asks, confused.
“I did you a favor. Just like I will do when I tell everyone you agree with our choice of travel direction.” I exhale, trying to avoid the topic.
“A favor? By switching sides with me?” She asks skeptically.
“Yes, so you don’t get grossed out.” I bite out and she goes rigid.
“Because of your face.” She says matter of the fact and it fucking cuts right into my heart.
“Yes, now shut up and walk. We need to catch up.” I grumble, picking up speed, suddenly feeling like I might suffocate in her presence.
“Thank you,” she whispers from behind me. “For trying to make me more comfortable.”
I snort a laugh. “It’s a tall order when you are stuck with me. But if it gets us to Ezrah faster, then I can be a gentleman from time to time.” Even if it just means making sure she doesn’t have to look at my fucked up face.
*Kyra*
I catch myself constantly stealing glimpses of Hayes’ injury. The way the scars seem to crawl up his neck and into his cheek like a thorny rose vine creeping up a trellis. It twists and dips, spots shiny while others are dull and deep. My fingers itch to touch it, to trace the tendrils that caused him so much pain as they dance up the side of his head, burning off half his eyebrow.
It’s mesmerizing, almost beautiful. A map of his sufferings. He finds it appalling, convinced I could only feel the same way. But I don’t avoid his touch because of his injuries. I run from the sparks he seems immune to.
The explosion that rips through my body and tries to urge me to follow what the moon goddess has given me. It’s not about moving on from what I lost, but accepting what I am being offered. But I’m not sure I can or that I want to.
“Ask me,” Hayes sighs heavily, the annoyance clear in his exhale as he remains looking forward. My brows pull together, the left corner of my lip pulling down in a confused frown.
“What exactly am I asking you?”
“Did it hurt? Does it still hurt? How did it happen?” Hayes says, his voice flat and unaffected.
“Is that normally what people ask?” I watch him closely as he clears his throat and looks in the opposite direction. “Because I got the feeling people avoid you.”
“Because of my burns?” He scoffs, and I snort.
“No, because you’re an asshole now.”
Dean and Marcos chuckle ahead of us, both of them shaking their heads.
“Yeah, well, if I look like an asshole people don’t ask me annoying questions,” He grumbles.
I arch a brow and smirk up at him, regardless of how much he tries to look away.
“I didn’t ask you any questions. You demanded I ask you what you assumed I wanted to know.” I remind him and he nods, a small smile forming before he pushes it away.
“You were staring at me,” He says. “I assumed you were curious.”
“I’m not here to be your best friend again, Hayes.” I say, lengthening my strides to distance myself from him. After three steps, I spin, walking backward as I face him. “Every warrior knows what creates those burns, and I know the pain they bring the bearer of them.”