Traded To The Lycan King



*Kyra*

I wonder what it feels like to lose two mates. What happens to me after losing Hayes? Do I just not get to have happiness again or will I slowly waste away and die?

Second chance mates are commonplace, but second chance mates aren't rejected. Rejectable? Yes, and sure it has happened before, but it's so rare that no one really knows much about the aftereffects.

If that is the case, then this mission, whether or not I die, is my last just as much as it is Hayes. Or would he choose me, even knowing that a rejection places me in an unknown place?

My stomach falls and I press my hand to it, feeling the pang of disappointment deep. Would I even want him to choose me just to protect me? Old me would have had him anyway I could have.

But I know what it feels like to be truly loved now. The woman I am now knows how I should be treated, how a man should adore me the way I adore him. The last thing I want is a bond with a man who not only doesn't want me, but doesn't want to be alive.

I scoff, shaking my head at the nonsense running through my mind. This bond is weaving into my thoughts, trying to control my emotions and me. "What is so funny?" Hayes asks, causing me to look at him, startled, as I blink at him.

“Oh, I was just thinking in my head, that's all.” I tell him.

"Can I ask you something?" He asks, clearing his throat.

"Depends on what it is, I guess," I shrug.

"Did you have a good life? I mean, after you left me - uh, I mean our pack. Were you happy?"

His question surprises me, but the tenderness in his voice catches me off guard. It sounds like he not only wants to know but that he cares to know I lived a good life without him in it.

"It was rough the first couple of years." I admit. "No one is all that keen on letting a lycan with no family into their pack."

He frowns as he exhales. "I was worried about that, but it seems like Tyler was very accepting."

"Tyler was..." I pause, smiling as I remember the first time I met him, the way his eyes lit up and he looked ready to scream to the world I was his mate. Regardless of his alpha being wary of the lonely lycan in the woods. "He was different from everyone else."

"You loved him then?" He asks, and I chuckle.

"How could I not?" I say, a giddy grin still on my lips. "Tyler was...he was loveable."

"Can I ask how he died?"This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

The smile falters on my face and I glance away, my hands growing clammy and my heart pulsing.

“I'd rather talk about how he lived than how he died, Hayes." I whisper, clearing my throat from the lump that tries to form.

"Right. Sorry." He says.

Awkward silence fills the air between us. It feels like we don't know how to talk anymore. There is too much between us to be anything other than hotheaded or complete strangers. Yet, the comfort I feel when I am near him is unmatched by anyone else.

I don't know how to navigate a life without Tyler or the hole in my heart. But being around Hayes again, it feels less daunting, facing it all. And I hate knowing that soon, I will lose this too.

“Looks like the rain is finally stopping," I mutter, looking up at the small clearing above my head, hoping to clear away the remnants of our failed conversation moments ago. When I look forward again, I come to an abrupt stop, looking at the others who are standing at a raging river of water. “Well, I suggest finding a different way over," Marcos says. "There is no way we are making it across that, not even in lycan or werewolf form."

"I agree," Hayes groans in annoyance before letting out a muttered string of expletives.

But I refuse to give up, not when I can feel it in my bones that this is the way we need to go. My lycan is on edge, snorting and snarling in my head as I move toward the edge, scanning the river and the bank across from us.

Movement catches my eye and I see

an elf with his hands looped into the straps of a bag as he stands, relaxed, smirking at us. I want to launch myself across, to grab him and end this now, but no one else seems to see him. My eyes meet his as he gives me a courteous nod and takes a step back into the shadows.

"Yeah, you better run, Ezrah." I murmur and everyone around me goes silent.

“Are you going crazy and talking to yourself?" Nisha asks.

"Ezrah is over there. I just saw him." I say, rolling my eyes and I lull my head to the side, looking at her unimpressed..

"Are you sure?" Dean asks, and I scoff.

"Yes, I am sure." I grit out at him. "He knows we can't cross, and he must know there is no way to get over there until he is already gone." "Ezrah!" Hayes roars in a taunting manner.

"Hayes." His voice is soft, masculine and airy. "You have finally caught up. Took you long enough. I thought you would want revenge quicker than that."

"It wasn't you who killed my mate." Hayes scoffs. "You were busy tricking Colette and Merikh."

"No, you are right. But I have the only thing you can use to get into the dragon kingdom and get your revenge."

Hayes' body goes rigid, his neck muscles rippling and his jaw clenched. My stomach twists with questions as I look at Hayes and the fury on his face. Revenge is always a pipe dream. Something that we cling to in our grief to keep ourselves going.

Not that I am above it or that I am not also hunting for it in a way. But my revenge is ending this war. Hayes' revenge is killing the bastard who killed his mate and then getting himself killed in the process.

"We just want you dead." Nisha says, popping her hip out to the side, her hand propped up on it.

"Fair enough. But you have to catch me first." He shimmers before his body seems to just disappear, and I bite my lip in annoyance. Hayes remains still, everyone watching him, waiting for our next move before he lurches forward toward the river.

"No, Hayes!" I scream, reaching out and grabbing hold of his arm. When he spins to look at me, his nostrils are flaring in anger and his eyes are full of murderous rage. "We need to be smart now, Hayes. He wants you unhinged. This is a game to him now."

"Then what do you suggest?" Koda asks, his anger barely restrained.

"We need to split up. One group goes that way, the other this way." I point to my right. "We need to find a way across, and quickly."

"I said no splitting up." Hayes barks out and I step in front of him, trying to talk sense into the fury riddled lycan beta.

"I can track our group easily." I tell him, "Finding them will not be a problem, letting Ezrah get a lead on us because="

The ground creaks beneath my feet; the earth dropping a centimeter, making my heart lurch into my throat. Hayes falls silent, looking at me and then the others. Waves rage louder and I take a step away from the edge.

"I don't like how the ground feels," Marcos says, stepping further back.

Then Ezrah steps out again, and there is no calming Hayes. He bounds toward the edge, my hand still in the crook of his elbow as he drags me forward and suddenly the earth falls out beneath us. The dirt seems to disintegrate into the harsh current, grass twisting and folding like cream into a mound of mashed potatoes.

“Hayes!” I squeal, panic flooding me as I twist away from him, my foot catching in the water pull me all the way in with him.

Someone clutches the back of my shirt. The water feels like it is pulling me apart. Sticks and various debris strike my legs and side as I grunt with effort to drag Hayes to the side. Hayes groans in effort as he reaches out and grabs hold of Dean and Koda's arms and they pull him up.

My shirt rips and I'm torn away from

Marcos as he screams my name and I go under the water. Hayes sprints down the muddy water's edge as fight to stay with my head

above the water. Then I see a look of determination flash over his face as heshouts something and jumps into the water just ahead of me.

His arms wrap around me and I gasp, clinging to him as we careen down at an astronomical speed.

"Hayes, what do we do?" I ask him, sputter out the dirt and water in my mouth.

"I will get us out of this, Ky. I just need you to stay above the water line long enough for me to think." He growls as he lifts me up higher, forcing my legs around his waist. "Hang on tight."