Traded To The Lycan King by MG Wattsons novel Chapter 167

*Kyra*

I scoff, giving Hayes’ chest a gentle shove. How long have I waited for him to want me? How long did I grieve and now he thinks his words, his empty, useless words, are going to what? Make me swoon? My lycan craves him. Hell, all of me wants him. But I refuse to be used again other than what my alpha has asked of me.

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl weak in the knees.” I tell him, and he frowns.

His hand extends out like he might try to touch me again, but he stops, making a fist before he exhales and looks away.

“I’m not trying to make you weak in the knees.” He says, his tone flat and expressionless.

“I don’t want to be your reason to live, Hayes.” I tell him honestly. ”What I want is for you to stop almost getting yourself killed.”

“Because you are worried about potentially dying if I don’t try my hardest?” He asks.

I have lots of reasons why I don’t want this dense beta to just stop trying and die. But what I also have is a little bit of pride and I refuse to tell him it is because I care about him. What I need is for him to keep his distance and stop touching me so I can think straight.

“Something like that, now. Can we go?” I ask, motioning to where the other two have disappeared.

“No.” He grits out. “I do not want that dragon in my camp.”

“Then Teiran and I will go on our own.” I shrug, as if leaving Hayes wouldn’t be the hardest thing to do right now. Not when I can’t trust that he won’t just up and die.

“Over my dead body,” He grinds out, taking a step toward me.

“Oh? See, so willing to die and unwilling to cooperate.” I tut at him, waving my finger in his face as if telling him no. “Teiran and I are a package deal.”

He roars in laughter, throwing his head back as if I have told him the funniest joke he has ever heard.

“You go where I go, end of conversation,” he finally says after a few moments of shaking his head with an amused grin.

“Then I guess we are a trio.” I smile at him sweetly.

“Kyra…” He growls low, his eyes meeting mine, all his emotions unmasked as he captures my full attention.

I swear I can see into his soul. The torment he lives in and the way he looks at me makes my mouth go dry. Instantly I am flushed, my lungs screaming for air and my heart so loud in my ears that when his mouth moves I can hear nothing but the pattering away.

“W-what?” I ask, licking my dry lips as I blink and break from his intoxicating hold.

“You stay next to me. You will never be alone with him or anyone else. I say we can not trust. Is that understood?” His entire presence is intimidating, the glint in his eyes informing me he isn’t messing around this time. So instead of provoking him anymore than I already have, I swallow roughly and nod my understanding.

He struts past me, looking over his shoulder when I don’t follow closely, and he arches a brow.

“We are done talking now.” He says, pausing when I don’t move, standing frozen in silence. I have more things I want to say, things I want to do now that I see he is okay when earlier I was so damn worried. “Do you plan on fighting me the entire way?”

His shoulders slump a little, his intimidation tactic slowing as he turns around to face me.

“No. It is exhausting fighting with you.” I admit. He smirks.

“So no more smart ass comments and bickering?” He asks, and I snort a laugh.

“Not a chance.” I smile, a genuine one that makes my eyes squint as I walk to his side. He gives me a gentle elbow and I wince in pain, my shoulder still sore from that damn tree, but at least my ankle seems to be happier now.

“How badly did you hurt your arm?” He asks, concerned.

“It was a deep cut, but I also messed up my ankle, which seems to be healed already.” I tell him, looking down at my dirt riddled leg, a shiver running through me. A shower would be extremely nice about now.

“It’s healed already?” He asks, sounding shocked.

“Yep.” I nod before I pull my bloody sleeve up and look at my bruised skin. A long pink jagged line runs through the deep purple and green bruise. “Looking much better here, too.”

“Have you always healed this fast?” Hayes asks, tilting his head to the side in thought. I don’t have the heart to tell him it is because I am near my second chance mate. That his presence is what is making my lycan work in overdrive to fix my injuries.

“I don’t think I have ever actually timed it,” I chuckle, trying to brush it off and drop the subject.