Traded To The Lycan King by MG Wattsons novel Chapter 151

*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.”

Then I spin on my toes and walk toward the front of the group. I catch up to Nisha, sliding up on her right side as she looks amused by my presence. Neither of us speaks. Why would we when there isn’t much to say?

It is obvious she hates me and looks down on me for some reason. But if we are going to be stuck together for a while, then I may as well familiarize myself with her snide remarks.

“Are you lost, Tracker?” She muses, her deep brown eyes blinking slowly.

“No, Nisha.” I tell her. “Just coming up for some air.”

I mutter the sentence, not even realizing how much I mean them until I hear them in my own ears. Being around Hayes is entirely suffocating and when he isn’t around, usually there is Marcos drowning me with his closeness and his overwhelming presence. Two entirely different men both successfully making me uncomfortable and want to hide from them.

Nisha shakes her head before she points up ahead, where Koda saunters, ducking under a branch.

“You could walk with Koda.” She offers and I admit her immediate desire to send me off ruffles my skin and my lip twitches with annoyance.

“Did I do something to offend you?” I ask, tired of the shitty attitude.

“No,” She arches a brow.