Unwanted Mate Of The Lycan Kings (by jessica hall) novel Chapter 109

~Zirah~

Zeke’s brooding quietness fills the car like an oppressive fog, matching my own turmoil. Regan's deeds echo in my mind like a vile melody, the images of the detained citizens forever imprinted on my eyelids and my brain, I know it will haunt me. The wound of my severed bond with him throbs with every beat of my heart.

Anxiety gnaws at me. Not for Regan, not for his doomed reign, but for what's next. What horrors lie ahead in Zeke's kingdom? What sins lurk in his shadows? Of all the brothers I find I worry about the condition of his kingdom most. He never tried to hide the monster he is, instead I've seen it in full force.

The road ahead unwinds like a black ribbon, stretching through the heart of the wilderness. The only sound is the low purr of the car engine, punctuated by the occasional sigh from Zeke. Lost in thought, he absentmindedly pats the head of his pet wolf Hunter.

"Are you upset I rejected him?" I venture, my voice cutting through the thick silence.

Pulled from his thoughts, Zeke shrugs. "I don't know, I think I am numb," he admits.

Numb. The word hangs in the air, fitting for our shared state of mind. It's as though we're on the precipice, teetering between the known and the unknown, waiting for the inevitable plunge.

I remember my conversation with Zeke's father, his scornful words. "Your father said none of you were worthy of the high kingdom. I understand why he said Regan wasn't. I also understand why he would believe Lyon wasn't. His kingdom doesn't flourish in an economic sense. What about yours?"

"We are all slaves to our curse, Zirah," Zeke replies, his gaze focused on the darkness outside. "No matter what, in some way, we can't escape it."

"But Lyon isn't," I counter, remembering the simplicity and peace of Lyon's kingdom.

"He is," Zeke insists. "He lives with the guilt. We all do. Only he managed to twist his into something good, but also something miserable. He sacrifices his own wants and luxuries out of a deep desire to redeem himself, yet he also punishes himself for it. His people may be happy, but they're also without."

"Without what?" I probe, struggling to reconcile his words with my memories of Lyon's kingdom.

"For one, they live happily, content in a sense, but much is old-fashioned. They live off the land when they don't need to. They work from sun up to sun down, hard labor. Yes, there is freedom in that, but the children are uneducated. They don't have the required medical needs. All they know is how to harvest, and how to do hands-on work. They wouldn't survive or would struggle to in a normal world."

I mull over his words. On the surface, Lyon's kingdom appeared ideal, a stark contrast to Regan's. But beneath the facade of peace and contentment, a different story unfolds. The world is complex, twisted by the sins and shortcomings of those who rule.

"And your kingdom?" I ask, turning to face Zeke. "What sin is it ruled by?"

"Gluttony," Zeke answers simply. My confusion must show because he adds, "You'll find out soon enough."

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I awake to the sounds of hollering, the limo's abrupt stop jerking me from my restless sleep. Rubbing my eyes, I peer out the window. Zeke is out there in the darkness, talking to a silhouette I can't quite make out. My wolves frolic about, their playful howls echoing through the silent night.

Clambering out of the limo, I step into the chilly air, its cool caress waking me further.

Zeke hears the car door and turns to look at me. He shrugs off his jacket, draping it over my shoulders as he approaches. The sudden blast of floodlights forces me to squint, the harsh brightness revealing a quarry of sorts. The moonlight is swallowed by the floodlights that line a worn path down the center of the mine entrance. Behind the floodlights is a chain link fence, barbed wire running along the top. Yet, looking at the mountain, my lips part as the lights reveal it.

A monstrous valley of coal and metal stands before me, the ground littered with discarded pieces of metal. From ore carts to broken bits of machinery. The mine's entrance is a yawning black maw, a dark wound in the Earth, a gaping black hole carved into the side of the mountain.

"Zeke?" I whisper, my voice thick with confusion and fear. "What is this place?"

"You asked what sin my kingdom was ruled by. Here's your answer," he gestures toward the mine shafts.

My heart thumps wildly in my chest as I strain to understand. Suddenly, hollering erupts once again, followed by cries, "They're coming!" I whip my head around, my breath hitching as figures begin to emerge from the darkness of the mine. The moans and cries and whimpers of the people echo throughout the mine, sounding more like wounded animals than men, women, and children.

I gasp as recognition hits. It's them. Regan's people, those condemned to die. The surrounding air is thick with despair. My skin tightens and crawls at the ghostly touch of what I witnessed back at Regan's broken kingdom. The dark figures emerge from the mouth of the mine like candle flames in the night. I see their faces, their eyes wide with horror and desperation as they take in the trucks.