Traded To The Lycan King

I stare at Merikh's back; the moonlight filtering in and highlighting the jagged raised scars that litter his skin. My fingers itch to touch them, to trace it down under his shoulder blade and across his spine, but I don't.

He wasn't wrong when he said he carries many scars but not on his face. A deep gash catches my attention, and I sit up slightly, leaning in to get a better view. It looks like teeth marks and a chunk of his flesh was torn out.

My hand gently flutters across it, his hot skin sending a thrill up my arm and straight to my chest. What had he done to get these scars? Who had he fought and how awful was his pain? Questions rush to the forefront of my mind and I realize. Even with everything going on, the rejection, being mated-well, verbally mated to the scariest guy in the lycan and werewolf realms, he is just a man.

"Do they gross you out?" He asks and I jump, my hand recoiling from his skin as I blaze in embarrassment at getting caught.

"Where did you get them?" I ask him. Merikh sits up in the bed, his back muscles rippling around the scars that make up the majority of his skin.

"Do they gross you out?" he asks again and I frown.

"Of course not." I tell him, though he doesn't seem to believe me as he scoffs and reaches for a shirt. He tugs it over his head with a heavy sigh, then looks over his shoulder.

"When do we leave?" I ask, changing the subject as I watch him slide on a pair of denim pants and move toward the dresser.

"Are you eager to leave?" He asks, pausing and looking at me over his broad shoulder.

"yes..." I admit.

"Then we will leave now." He says. "All your stuff was packed and placed in the vehicle up last night." "But it's two in the morning..." I tell him, my mouth gaping open, the thought of not being able to say goodbye to Grady, rejected mate or not. He was the only light spot in my life for so long.

"I just want to be home with my Luna." He levels me with a stare and I gulp. "The pack will be excited to meet you."

I feel that thick sludge of shame creeping back up in my mind, and I look away. His pack will hate me when they sense how weak I am. Will I be some joke there too? Or worse, am 1 just the means to an end for a political statement and he has someone else back in his pack?

It would explain his desire to get home. His lack of wanting to be intimate as the mate bond dictates and even as we kissed I could feel His hesitation. My chest burns at the thought and I tuck a hair behind my car, trying not to think about it. I know I have no right to be upset. I'm barely a real werewolf. Of course, that is why he selected me.

I am weak, easy to manipulate, and less likely to comment on him having a preferred mistress. And why shouldn't he? It's not like I would promise him any strong heirs. No, I'm a pawn.

then why does the thought make me want to throw up? "What is going on in that mind of yours?" He asks softly and I lift my

leave this place."

in a moment to take you to

"Percy?" I ask

says and I nod like I know what that means. I've never understood the role of a gamma as not all packs have one,

him and he chuckles. "Is it not a sign of disrespect to

and I

from the silence filling the

can walk Luna Colette out, so you can go say the cordial goodbyes?" He

Bentley takes issue with our leave, he will reach out to let me now and then I can inform him of his daughter's

the little sparks from our new bond rippling through my skin as he urges me along beside him. It's not entirely easy keeping up with a man about a solid foot or more taller than me, but

up as we exit the front door and clamber into the black vehicle. Percy hops in the passenger's seat, and Merikh slides in next to me, his body imposing as it takes up more space than a normal person would. Again, he is a

landscape dusting it with a

by separating me from the pack that I called home. The pack that looked

firmly, knowing for a fact I will never miss

Goosebumps erupt over my arms as I think about what life has a head for me. What my new pack will be like and if I will ever be accepted as their

frowns and his arm lifts, swapping around the back of the seat, his hand resting on my shoulder and gently easing me into his open chest. My eyes roll to the

you." I offer, but he doesn't respond. He then clears his throat, his thumb rubbing circles on my upper arm as he seems to

do, Colette?" he asks, and I drop

read." I offer,

You

hoping for, but I have

To you I am just Merikh," he

I say and I

you not draw? Or garden or even