Lycan King’s Captives novel Chapter 5

I can hear King Xandros arguing on the phone. It is nerve-racking trying to pee when the door is wide open, even though he is standing side-on and not even looking in my direction. After finally relieving myself, I desperately want to shower. Peering out the door, he is still on the phone. I want to close the door. Instead, I hide around the corner, ripping the last remnants of clothes off my body, which is just a shirt. My hands are covered in blood, and so am I. It smells sickly sweet and bitter at the same time. My skin feels sticky and gross.

My skin itches and crawls. One thing I’ve always hated about being scared is how itchy I become. And a shower seems a good enough reason to get away from him. So I turn the shower on, checking the temperature with my hand before stepping in.

Hopefully, he leaves, so I can try to find a way out of here. Maybe I can shimmy down a drainpipe. I conjure up multiple ways to escape when the shower screen door opens.

The draft is cold against my back, and I instantly jump, twisting as I do and moving away to see his intimidating form step into the shower. I glance up at him with wide eyes as he towers over me.

His eyes run the length of me, and I take another step back. Becoming drenched in the scalding hot water when my back hits the tiles. His gaze is intense, scrutinizing me from head to toe with a piercing stare that makes me feel exposed and vulnerable.

I cover my chest by folding my arms. His eyes flicker at the movement, and he steps closer, caging me in against the wall as he puts his face under the water. I stare at the hard plains of his chest as the water cascades down his sun-kissed skin.

The hot steam fills the small bathroom as I admire his body. His strong, toned muscles look like they have been crafted from marble, each line and ripple perfectly placed. The more I take him in, the more I become aware of my heart racing. I look him over, feeling an unfamiliar yearning to touch him writhing through me.

His scent is tantalizing and thick in the air of musk and earth, with a hint of sandalwood; he doesn’t just look manly and intimidating, he smells it. His scent is intoxicating as it overwhelms my senses. I want to move closer to him, thankfully the rational part of my brain holds me back. The foreign instincts scare me, making it difficult to comprehend what is happening.

He takes a step closer toward me, his deep dark eyes staring into mine, framed with thick lashes I am jealous of. His hand reaches out to cup my cheek. Instead of pain and anger, he is quite gentle, and I gasp, feeling slight tingles prickling my skin with heat.

“It’s the mate bond,” he tells me softly. “The closer you get to shifting, the stronger it will become.” The thought frightens and excites me simultaneously, leaving me confused about what lay ahead. I don’t want to be with this man. I don’t even know him, but with his scent clouding my mind in this closed-in space, all I want to do is give in to the foreign urge to touch him.

The steam-filled shower seems to amplify the scent of his body. As I look him over, my gaze travels across every hard-cut muscle, I feel desire so strong stirring within me it makes me hold my breath.

He must sense the tension between us because he steps closer, leaning in until our faces are only inches apart. “You don’t know if you want to run to me or from me,” he murmurs in a low voice that sends a shiver down my spine. His hand on my face moves as he runs his thumb along my lower lip before tracing his fingertips lightly down the line of my jaw.

The air seems to spark and zap around us as we stand there, locked in each other’s gaze. The energy between us slowly builds until it feels like it will consume me. His hand then moves slowly down my arm until it finds its place on my waist, where it begins to trace circles around my hip bone in an almost hypnotic rhythm that has my senses on full alert.

His voice then drops another octave as he steps closer, and his breath sweeps over my neck. My heart races erratically at his closeness, my mind foggy as my senses become overloaded by his mere presence.

Instinct wins over me as I blink rapidly, trying to fight the urge to move closer, to touch him. He seems to be enjoying watching me struggle by the smirk on his lips. The next second I slam against his hard chest, and tears prick my eyes as my lips crash against his chest.

His hand slips into my hair while my brain fights with my body, which suddenly feels alien to me. My nails rake down his flesh like I’m trying to carve my way inside him. It didn’t feel like this when I woke up. Only fear enveloped me then. Now burning lust has taken over.

A strangled noise leaves my lips, caught between a moan and a whimper of frustration.

“It is natural for you to feel this way. My scent is strong in here from the steam. You’ll learn to fight the urges. By then, you won’t want to fight them, though.” He chuckles.

My heart races as he pulls away slightly. He leans down so our faces are still close together as I peer into his eyes, searching for answers I can’t find within myself. He gently caresses my cheek with the pad of his thumb before speaking again.

“It’s normal, Sienna. If you want to touch me, you can,” he whispers softly before leaning closer and pressing his lips to my forehead. The action sends shivers down my spine without warning. “Don’t worry; I feel the same. It’s distracting and antagonizing. I want you more than anything. I can barely control myself around you.”

His words are both darkly seductive and frightening at the same time. This causes a rush of emotions I don’t know how to process or express except through the intense heat pooling in the pit of my stomach. When he steps away, I step closer, and he chuckles, reaching for the soap beside me.

The smell of the soap replaces his scent, and the effects of his addictive scent fade away like background noise. My mind’s fog lifts instantly, and my eyes go to his. He watches me for a second. His eyes scrutinizing.

“You’ll get used to it. Get used to me,” he tells me. Now, with some distance between us, I see him for what he is, the monster that kidnapped me—poisoned me, turning me into a monster like him.

I step away from him slowly, my back hitting the wall as I stare at him. He gazes at me with something akin to disappointment and understanding; it quickly passes, leaving only the monster in his place once again. He offers me a small smile before turning around and stepping out of the shower without another word. Xandros snatches a towel off the rack on the wall, tying it around his waist

While I’m left feeling confused and scared of the intense emotions coursing through me. It feels like something inside me has changed or is missing. My eyes dart to his back. No, whatever that missing piece is, he took it.

Something twisted and dark has awakened within me, something unfamiliar, almost seductive. All I can do is stand here as my mind reels from it all.

“I’ll send for someone to get clothes for you. Don’t leave the bedroom, or there will be consequences,” he says, his voice returning to cold and authoritative.

He leaves without another word, and I’m left struggling to wrap my head around what just happened. I had been so close to succumbing. Had he not stepped away from me, I’m sure I would have done anything he requested, drunk on his presence.

The memory of his touch still sends shivers down my spine, like a reminder that something inside me has changed irrevocably, awoken by some carnal desire I’m not sure would save me or end me.

The shower runs cold by the time I finally emerge from its depths, more determined than ever to fight against these newfound urges. I just need to survive long enough to escape.

I step out of the shower. The bathroom is bright and airy, with white tiles on the walls and floor. I wrap a fluffy white towel around myself, and I can feel the fabric’s softness against my skin. The room is filled with steam from my shower, and the air is heavy with the scent of my body wash.

A large mirror hangs over the sink. I wipe my hand across it, removing the steam, and peering into the mirror at myself. Only the moment I do, I take a step back. My eyes burn brightly back at me, almost glowing.

“Where is Xandros?” comes a feminine yet harsh voice that has me jumping to look at the door. I find a woman in a flowing white gown that hugs her curves. She is tall and beautiful, and I suddenly feel like a gutter rat in her presence. “Are you mute?” she snaps, her face twisting in disgust.

The feral growl that leaves him at her words gives me goosebumps.

“Fine, just leave. I will return to the room in a minute,” he tells her, and I blink up at him. He will let her feed off him?

She looks at me one last time with an expression that says I am trash before turning and fleeing. She leaves and my heart’s still pounding in my chest. When I turn to Xandros, I cringe as he glares at me.

His face is filled with anger and disgust, and I can feel the tension radiating off him. He takes a step forward, looming over me, and I am frozen in place, unable to move or speak.

“Did you hit her?” he snarls at me. I stare at him in disbelief before glancing at the door she just left through. He growls and grabs my face, forcing my gaze back to his.

“I asked you a question. Yes or No! Did you hit Princess Dresden?” His tone is menacing, and his grip on my face is tight. His eyes are burning into mine, searching for an answer.

“Yes… she attacked–” my words were cut off when his grip grows impossibly tight, my cheeks pressing into my teeth like they may snap under the pressure of his grip at any moment.

“Do you know what you’ve done? I leave for ten minutes, and you fucking provoke her. What you’ve done is punishable by death. Until you mark me, you’re nothing just a fucking commoner, a…” he screams in my face while his twists into that of a Lycan. Sharp canines protrude, and his claws stab into my cheeks.

“A side whore,” I barely manage to answer for him. A whimper escapes me, my lips trembling when he gasps, letting me go. He sucks in a deep breath while I stare at the floor. How is it possible that I actually want to go home back to my uncle? I never thought I would see the day when I would welcome his fists.

“Sienna, I didn’t mean it like that.” He exhales loudly, and I wipe my cheek, my blood smearing over the back of my hand when he moves with those inhuman movements and jerks my face up. Only this time, his grip is gentler. He curses, licking the pad of his thumb and moving it toward my face. I jerk my face out of his grip.

“I’m trying to heal you,” he snaps at me, reaching for my face again, only I pull away. His hand falls away, and he stares at me, his face a mask of frustration. He takes a deep breath and steps back, turning away from me. I watch him silently.

“Go feed your wife,” I tell him. Those words pierce my soul as I speak them. How is it possible to feel so strongly about someone I hate?

He turns to me, his eyes full of pain and anger. He stares at me for what feels like an eternity, then he turns and leaves without a word. My chest tightens, and he slams the door behind him. I stare at the door before hearing it lock. Forcing myself to my feet, I quietly approach the door, only to discover he has locked me in like a prisoner.

Turning back to the room, I move toward the large mahogany dresser with a huge mirror attached to it. Peering into the mirror, I can see her finger marks etched into my neck. I touch the bruising indents before my gaze moves to my face, four puncture marks on one side. However, the one where his thumb was, is the deepest, blood oozing and trickling down my cheek and neck.

Seeing those gashes reminds me of the monster that has me in his grasp. I look down at my hands, like I can still see my uncle’s blood coating them. My hands are now clean since I showered. I can’t help but think I will become the same monster Xandros is. What I did to him was no better. I killed someone, and I killed my family. I’m no better than my parents.

I rummage for some clothes, anything besides the wet towel making me cold. Digging through a drawer, I find an old shirt. I slide it over my head. Then I remove the towel and wander back into the bathroom to hang it up.