Unwanted Mate Of The Lycan Kings (by jessica hall) novel Chapter 108

~Zirah~

“I’ll do whatever you want, take my kingdom, take everything, don’t take this from me,” he pleads. My lips quiver as I peer down at him, but I can’t risk the curse; he has not redeemed himself, and I won’t risk Lyon, who has.

But he’s not the only one breaking at my actions; I love him, but sometimes love is not enough. We all have a part, and mine is to choose, even if it kills me doing it. Regan presses his face into my stomach; I can feel his tears soaking my top, just as the ones sliding down my face soaking my cheeks.

“I, Zirah, Queen of the high seat of Arcana Empyreal Dominion, reining heir of the four founding Kingdoms, reject you, King Regan of Lupine Kingdom.” I stammer out.

“No... no.... no!” Regan bellows, his claws slip out, slashing my legs as his sin comes out, the true monster he was cursed to be, but I am expecting it, and as my hand falls to his neck, my magic flares, stunning him. His claws sink into my thighs like hooks, yet I ignore the pain; it’s nothing compared to the pain burning through my chest. Peering down at him, Regan’s eyes are dead, yet filled with agony. He shakes his head violently as the tears spill over, sliding down his cheeks in streaking rivulets of agony and grief.

“Under the moon’s ethereal glow,

King no more, I strip you so.

My mark, once your saving grace,

Now fades from its sacred place.

My mark, his virtue, erased from his skin,

Leaving only the trace of his echoing sin.

My wrath upon Wrath, a poetic slate,

His kingdom falls; his death I dictate.

By the power of the moon, I hereby decree,

Your death is near, so mote it be.”

Regan’s agonized scream is enough to make my stomach twist on the ceiling as he writhes, clawing at his throat with his claws while my mark burns and fades. Alone and abandoned, he screams until his voice cracks and his throat is raw. Finding myself unable to listen to his wails, I turn away. His agony is fiercer as he drops to the ground, my mark searing from his skin. Gnash whimpers and I pray; I hope I didn’t just seal his fate along with his owners. Yet unable to listen to his agony, I move toward the door to find Zeke waiting.

“You didn’t leave?”

“You really rejected him.” he breathes.

“You didn’t think I would?”

“I had a feeling you would, but I hoped you wouldn’t,” he tells me, opening the back door of his car.

“I can’t leave with you; I have to sort out the mess here.” I tell him.

“I’ll handle it; Malachi has buses on the way,” comes James’ voice.

“And what of your mother’s rapists?” I ask, looking at Zeke before peering at the dungeon.