Unwanted Mate Of The Lycan Kings (by jessica hall) novel Chapter 3

“Last one,” a deep snarling voice calls from somewhere in the distance. Groaning, I try to lift my head and find it takes every ounce of strength I have. My head pounds to its own, and I lift it where my chin is pressed to my chest. My ankle is still throbbing, and my eyes flutter open, and go to wipe them, only to find my hands restrained.

I blink rapidly, yanking on my binds in panic while looking out the huge doors to where Lycan and werewolves are coming in my direction. The ropes are extremely tight, and it is tied to the bench seat I am sitting on. I glance around, taking in my surroundings, my vision still a little blurry, when I realize I am in the back of a cattle truck.

Looking up, the moon is high in the sky peering back at me, almost as if it is taunting me.

Hearing a scuffle, I peer around once more, when yelling and screaming makes me turn my head to see a girl whose name I do not know get tossed heavily into the back of the truck. Her body makes a loud thud as she lands on her stomach, her head bouncing on the wooden floor between my feet. A whimper far at the back of the truck makes me turn my head to see three men huddled in the corner like scared rabbits. I recognize their faces, yet I also do not know their names.

“That's the last one!” A man yells out to the driver as he grabs the handhold and steps into the back. The girl, whose name I do not know, scrambles for the back of the truck, where the three young men are huddled.

The man who tossed her takes a seat across from me after shutting the back of the truck and caging us in. It stinks heavily of blood, sweat, and what smelt heavily of cow crap. I stare at the wooden grated walls ahead. My thoughts drifting to my grandmother and how I couldn't save her. Everything in me is screaming out for her, yet I do not cry, I do not plead for my life or fight against the situation because I no tears won’t bring her back, I know fighting is pointless, and my pleas will go unheard.

My mind keeps going back to the strange smile she gave me, I know it will forever haunt me. Her parting words are permanently seared into my head. “They found you, but they'll regret it.” She had chuckled before she turned and ran for the ledge, her body careening over the side. It is almost as if she knew her fate was sealed and took life back into her own hands.

The truck's engine rumbles to life, loud in the dead of night. Yet it didn't drown out the whimpers at the back of the truck coming from faces I knew but people I didn't.

This place was supposed to be safe, out of reach of civilization's clutches, and far away from any harm. I grew up in these mountains, grew up in the sprawling fields of wildflowers, the rocky terrain of the mountains was my training ground, and flowing rivers were my escape. Out here, we were far from the four Lycan kingdoms. Yet all the that training is for nothing now that I am being hauled away to what I can only describe as hell.

The mountains were not far enough away, apparently. They came in the night, surrounded our home, and ripped us from where we slept. We are no longer safe or free of the King's rule. And that becomes abundantly clear when what was left of us was loaded into trucks only moments ago. I stare idly head, my hands tied behind my back. The bumping road jostles me as it navigates the off-road track. I feel queasy until we reach the flat surface of the roads we were always forbidden to go near.

The mountains were all I knew, the only place I remember, and now it is gone, just like those of us that lived in peace for so long. Now I realize my grandmother was right. She tried to warn everyone for years that our place of sanctuary would be one day found. They wouldn't listen. Even I was skeptical despite dreaming this scenario plenty of times, yet in my dreams Grandma was beside me not dead and floating away in the ocean's current.

She warned them our rising population put us at higher risk, too many coming and going like we were untouchable. She warned the elders that someday one of those they let leave would be caught and give up our location. And she was right.

Crying sobs and pained moans fill the back of the truck that has seats running along each side. Which I know aren’t part of the original design. I may have never left the caves, but I know some things from granny or from the books she would find when off searching for supplies. I am the youngest in our little cave village. Everyone is far older. I have no memories of a world outside our small community, only that cave and the mountains surrounding it.

A feral snarl makes my eyes move away from the crack in the wood I am staring out of. My eyes move to the man sitting across from me. Only he isn't a man at all. No, he is a monster.

Despite his glare's coldness, his amber eyes seem to burn into me. Once there were fifty of us, now only five of us remain. The others must have been considered too old and killed instantly. Turning my head, I peer at the three boys and the other girl, all older and in their twenties, while I am only eighteen.