Traded To The Lycan King by MG Wattsons novel Chapter 152

“Let go of me!” I grit out, throwing my elbow back, my funny bone tingling up my arm and into my fingers as I hit something solid. The hand on my neck releases me and I stumble forward into the wall, whipping around, ready to fight. I stop, blinking as I look at Hayes, who frowns at me and rubs his solar plexus.

“Ouch,” He says, looking unimpressed. “All of that so-called training and you went with an elbow jab?”

An amused laugh bubbles up my chest as I allow my body to go lax and lean onto the rock surface for support. The cool stones soothe my aching muscles from my falling and I sigh heavily.

“Forgive me, but I’m not in the mood for any verbal sparring at the moment.” I huff out, my stomach pinching and churning violently as I lean forward, hands on my knees.

“What the hell were you thinking, running off like that?” He asks, but for once, his words aren’t demanding or condescending.

“I was tracking.” I say, turning my head to look up at him from my bent over position.

“Looked more like you were falling.” He says with a grunt.

I don’t have the energy to fight with him. Going from the high of tracking to near death and then to the scare of being attacked does something to the nerves I can’t quite explain.

My heart is in my throat still, the bile burning the back of my throat as I try to bring my blood pressure back to normal. Hell, fighting that damn dragon felt way less taxing.

“Ezrah is close.” I whisper, standing up again before hunching back over and hurling out the acid that had settled in my throat and around the bitter taste buds around my tongue.

My muscles contract painfully, tugging at my injuries and making me groan in near agony. I have now fallen off two cliffs since starting this mission. If this starts to become a habit, I may have to send myself home.

If I had a home to go back to.

“What do you mean?” Hayes asks, his body going rigid as he steps in closer to me. I slide my forearm over my mouth, cleaning it as I swallow roughly.

“I caught the scent of the egg, and then when I looked closer I could see signs they went this way–”

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low as he reaches out and takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to meet his intense questioning eyes.

“Of course I am sure.” I tell him, trying to struggle away from his touch, the sparks flooding through me and calming the painful storm of my wounds.

“Look at me, Kyra.” He says seriously, moving his face closer. “Say it again.”

“Ezrah is near. I bet my life on it.” I say, making sure to say my words clearly so he doesn’t question it again. “He is over that cliff and I was trying too—”

“That’s what I thought you said.” He mumbles, dropping his hand before he turns away, a flash of confliction on his face.

“Why do you not seem excited?” I ask, hating how much it disappoints me to not please him with my work. Isn’t this what he wanted for so long?

“Why did you rush off on your own?” He asks, his words soft before he turns and glares at me. I stutter under his look. A small shrug the only thing I can think to do to answer him.

“I- uh- wasn’t thinking about it. What it came down to is I picked up the scent, and I followed to verify. That’s what I have always done in the past with Tyler.” I try to explain, but a sinister smile takes over his lips as he clicks his tongue.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I am not your ex-mate. He is dead” His words have a bite to them that makes my brows furrow. His mood seems to shift faster than the wind in a raging storm, and his words feel like a punch to the gut.

“I know that. There is no way I could ever confuse the two of you.” I snap at him. “What I mean is, this is how I was trained. This is what I do, Hayes. I track, I follow and then I report and we proceed from there. In a sense, I am a spy.”

“Kyra, you left without so much as a look back. Nisha thought you went crazy and freaked out.” He says, a glimmer of guilt in his eyes.

“Definitely crazy, but I wasn’t freaking out.” I say as a sound rustles over my head, distracting me.

A rock tumbles from above us and Hayes snaps his head up, his reflexes moving quicker than mine as he grabs me, tugging me into his chest before he spins us to the right, just under a small ledge.

My back presses into the rocks, his body glued to mine, his chin touching my hair. My stomach, once revolting, now calms and butterflies emerge, dancing amidst a field of a love they want so desperately to live freely in.

“Hayes,” I whisper, my lips barely moving. His chest vibrates softly, sending a shockwave through my body.

“Hush,” he utters and I press my lips together, closing my eyes as I try to keep tears from forming.