Traded To The Lycan King

"I don't know what to say," I admit, his honesty catching me off guard. Since the second he laid eyes on me again, he has been nothing short of rude and cold. Every word has been a stab at me in one way or another. But now he suddenly racked with guilt and

apologizing?

"There is nothing to say, Kyra. You asked for your apology and I gave it to you," he says matter of fact.

"And that's it? We go back to constant fighting and bickering?" I ask, arching a brow. He pauses, then lets out a low sigh, his good hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I don't know," He admits. "What do you want from me?"

I scoff. "For starters? Maybe you not trying to sabotage me at every turn."

He frowns like I am speaking some untruth, and I give him a stern look.

"Fine. But in my defense, I wasn't the one to drug you." He says.

"Did you tell Marcos to do it?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. He looks away and shrugs, refusing to answer, and I roll my eyes. "Of course you did."

"I didn't want you to get hurt." He tells me, and I see how sincere he is, but sincerity doesn't matter when you mess up.

"Yeah, that worked out really well." I scoff, throwing my hands up in frustration, and he winces.

bad decision." He admits. "Dragons are not known for being in this area, even scouts. We are still close to the water and they

near fatal one and I know I am here in one piece, but it

he admits he was wrong. What I understand now is that I want to know why he thinks so little of me. Was loving him back then, asking him to choose

voice matches mine in volume. "All I can do is apologize

throw my hands up in defeat. "And what

freezes, swallowing hard

want to move on from this? Fine. How do you envision that happening?" I ask him, my hands finding my hips as he looks around, his brows pulled

nearly pressing against his

I am not going back." I hiss, "The girl you remember and the woman standing in front of you are very different people. I do not cower and I do not run. You need to find this Fae? I am your

actions and reactions point to one thing: hatred. Hayes has learned to not only hate life, but he has

breathing hitches, his closeness catching me off guard as his warm breath tickles over

as my eyes flick to his lips, watching too eagerly as his tongue

says. His presence is damn near overwhelming. The scent I didn't pick up

my face. My breathing hitches and I can feel the heat in my cheeks. I need to cut this tension, obliterate it to smithereens. I can't allow

me?" I ask, my mouth still dry, my body light as if it is floating. It doesn't matter how much I want this pull to go away, it tugs me in

words full of bite as if remembering the moment in his mind. What he thinks he saw must have been something far more devious than

flash as he seems to wake up from a daze. Hayes takes a step back from me as he drags a hand down his face. "Marcos was helping me, Hayes. Just

tell him, and he watches me expectantly. "The rest of the

head, a laugh breaking from his deformed,

to give me space," he says, then he