Unwanted Mate Of The Lycan Kings (by jessica hall) novel Chapter 120

~Zirah~

Later, as the deepest parts of night take hold, an unusual time for me to wake, Gnash's whimpering rouses me from my slumber. My eyes open to see Gnash by the fireplace. A wave of panic crashes over me, seeing him looming over his brother, Shadow. Hunter is frantically tugging on the blanket trying to wake me, stopping when he notices my eyes open. Sitting up, Hunter looks at Gnash and whines loudly. Shaking off my sleepiness, I stumble towards them, my body swaying under a sudden bout of dizziness.

“Hey boy, what's wrong?” I try to sound soothing, my fingers gingerly sweeping through Shadow's fur. His panting fills me with terror. Gnash nudges him, trying to get Shadow up, but nothing he does works, not even when he nips his ear. Shadow just huffs a breath out, his lungs making a rattling noise as if he is struggling to breathe.

Lurching back towards the bed, my hand falls onto Zeke's chest. “Zeke! Wake up!” I urge. He snaps awake, the panic in his eyes mirroring the fear gnawing at my heart.

“Zirah?” he whispers, his voice raspy from sleep.

“Something's wrong with Shadow,” I manage to utter. Suddenly, vertigo washes over me, and my vision blurs as I tumble onto the bed.

A veil of perspiration clings to my forehead, salty droplets streaking down my face. My heart is hammering relentlessly against my ribs. The room morphs into a dizzying carousel around me while Zeke's words seem to be drifting from a distance. He taps my face as I stare up at him, and a look of relief crosses his features. “Shadow?”

“The same. Are you alright?” he asks. “I think I stood up too fast,” I admit.

“Dammit, where is Lyon?” His voice resonates with unmistakable worry, and his brows knitted in a deep frown. A storm of queries whirls within my mind, spinning relentlessly as I try to wrestle focus back from the disorientation. “He was only supposed to be an hour and a half away!” Zeke says, dialing Lyon's number. “And why isn't Regan answering, damn it!” he growls.

Zeke's voice dwindles into an echo as I stagger into the adjoining bathroom, each step a monumental task. I manage to fill a bowl with water, my hands trembling like leaves in the wind. Zeke paces nervously. “I sent some scouts out to look for Lyon, I can't believe we slept so long,” he mutters, punching in numbers into his phone. Reentering the bedroom, I urge Shadow to take a sip. His panting breaths strike like arrows at my heart. “Come on, boy,” I coax, my voice a mere wisp of sound, shaky and fragile. “I tried already,” Zeke says, coming over to me.

“Still no answer?” I ask, and he shakes his head.