Traded To The Lycan King by MG Wattsons novel Chapter 144

*Kyra*

“What the hell?” I mutter, rushing to my feet, slipping my arm back in the holes of my shirt before tugging it over my stomach with a wince. My shoulder is still sore from where Marcos had to dig into my skin to get a grip on what I assume was a massive splinter.

My eyes grow wide when I see Hayes on top of Marcos, his hand hammering into his face as Marcos tries to protect himself. Dean is on them yanking at Hayes while the woman with us checks on Marcos. I feel caught in the middle, unable to figure what to do or feel in the moment. What the hell just happened?

“Hayes!” Dean screams into his face as he struggles to hold him back. “What the fuck has gotten in to you?”

“Is he okay?” I ask, my voice trembling as I look at Marcos’ already bruised eye and sliced lip.

“Nothing that a few hours won’t fix,” Marcos gives me a grin before turning an angry scowl to Hayes. “Mind explaining what the hell that was that for?”

“Don’t play dumb, Marcos,” Hayes hisses, his lip curling in disgust as he looks down at Marcos like he is dirt under his shoe. It is clear this has nothing to do with me. The way the two scowl at one another makes it seem like this is an issue they deal with often. Even if Marcos looks as confused as I feel.

“You don’t think you could have at least waited to jump him,” I scoff, dusting the front of my pants off, annoyed.

Marcos didn’t have the time to finish looking at my injuries and my ribs are killing me still. All I want is to move without having every part of me ache and sting. It might have been nice if Marcos could give me something like some ointment for the pain.

“What, you weren’t finished yet?” He spits the words at me like I am disgusting and my nose scrunches in complete bewilderment. Is Hayes not the one who told me to get checked out? Is he not the one who stormed off and left Marcos to take care of me? What the hell am I missing here? Why is his anger suddenly pointed at me?

“Uh, well, not really.” I say, looking over at Marcos, who seems as lost as me. “What the hell is going on?”

“Wow,” Hayes scoffs, finally shoving Dean away from him as he takes a step back. “I expect a lot of things from you, but dense and easy were not on that list.”

My mouth falls open, and I snort a half laugh.

“He got the thing out of my shoulder, but my ribs are still hurting, so he told me to turn over so he could get a closer look.” I defend myself, not sure why I feel the need to explain anything, but for some reason, I do.

Hayes freezes, his eyes darting around as he takes a step closer to me. He almost looks frantic, as if he might not be able to breathe if he doesn’t ask me what is on his mind. It’s strange to see him look like he might care or at the very least need something from me.

“What was he doing to you? Just now,” he whispers, his voice demanding, all the while sounding desperate. My brows furrow as I swallow, unsure how to feel about his closeness.

“I just fucking told you. He was tearing a massive splinter from my shoulder, then he was going to put ointment on my ribs…” I say the words slowly, watching how his face changes from anger to relief, then straight to embarrassment. Then, in the blink of an eye, he goes void. All emotions gone and hidden as he clears his throat and stands up straighter.

“Get some sleep.” He mutters before he turns to walk off.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Marcos bellows after him, but Hayes continues to walk. “Does someone want to explain that to me?”

“From our angle it looked like you were…” Dean pauses, then clears his throat. “It looked like the two of you were–”

“It looked like you were fucking.” The woman says, dropping onto a log next to the fire and sending me a wink. “Can’t say it didn’t look hot, because it got me feeling some type of way. Not angry, but something.”

“Wait, so it looked like Marcos was having sex with me? And Hayes got pissed off?” I ask. Truth be told, I am not sure if I’m more upset about his reaction or the insinuation. I just let people take me randomly in the middle of the woods with others around.

“He has a strict no sleeping with crew members policy.” Marcos says standing up and gingerly touching his face. “But damn, I got hit, and I didn’t even break the rules.”

“Someone should go talk to him.” Dean says, looking around.

Marcos snorts as he settles in next to the fire.

“Sure as shit won’t be me,” he mumbles.

“Nisha?” Dean asks, and the woman rolls her eyes.

“What? Because I’m a female, you think I want to talk with the grump? No, thank you. He will walk it off and come back later like nothing happened. We all know Hayes. He explodes and asks questions later.” She waves her hand in the air like it’s no big deal, but by looking at Dean, I can tell it’s a huge deal.

“I’ll talk to him.” I exhale, my stomach twisting sharply as Dean gives me a look, then nods.

“Probably best it’s you.” He says.

“What? Because of our history?” I ask, and he shakes his head.

“No, because he owes you an apology.” He shrugs and Marcos roars in laughter.