Unwanted Mate Of The Lycan Kings (by jessica hall)

Lycan Queen's Prey Chapter 40

~Zirah~

“And yet your father believes he isn’t worthy of ruling in the high seat.” I shake my head.

“Yes, because he believes Regan is cruel and merciless, like everyone else believes. He’s painted

himself as the villain, but he is only a villain to his people that live in his kingdom. My father doesn’t

believe I can rule because of my gluttonous ways for supplies we need. He thinks I can’t rule, not

realizing the size of my population is larger from saving Regan’s people. And Lyon, well, he has kind of

turned into a hippy and lives off the land, he is free-spirited with his people. And he gives no rules to his

people; Lyon has become his people.”

“But why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, annoyed, knowing I just rejected him for no reason.

“Would you have believed me without seeing them for yourself, or would you believe I was covering up

for my brothers, for the sake of breaking the curse?” I chew my lip, knowing he’s right. I probably

wouldn’t have believed him without seeing them for myself, and by that time I had jumped the gun and

already rejected him.

“Then why does he hate you so much?” I ask him, remembering how much they fought when I first met

them.

“Regan hates everyone. Lyon a little less, but Lyon also hasn’t got the past I have with Regan,” Zeke © NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

answers.

“What do you mean?’

“I punished him for her death. I made sure no woman would go near him, and I made sure they knew

what he was. It turns out I was no better; I made sure he remained alone for taking you from me, I

thought he had killed my mate,” he answers guiltily.

"What about Lyon, he didn't seem like he was on your side either?"

"Because he thought I was poisoning our father, they both did. Not even I thought my father was linked

to us. We thought we were his curse."

"Well, your father also hasn't fixed his ways, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," I tell him.

"Yeah, dad's never been one to get his hands dirty, that's what he has sons for," Zeke sighs.

"Regan?" I ask, and he nods.

"Yeah, Regan always took the jobs we didn't want, he's always taken care of us. We weren't paying

attention, though."

“Yeah, you were no better. Regan’s anger killed them. Your inability to stop did."

“We are all as bad as each other. Lyon hides his sins better. Regan tries to control his sin by controlling

everything and everyone around him.”

“And you?” I ask.

“They have learned to control aspects of it. I never did. As you can tell by my kingdom, I collect people

as if they are trophies.”

“You saved people,” I tell him, and he sighs. “You are not understanding,” he replies.

“Lyon and Regan, for the most part, have control with you around, whereas me, I feel like I am losing

mine more,” he tells me. “What do you mean?”

“I’m gluttony, the addiction, the hunger for more, and you’ve become my vice.”

“If that is your way of explaining past behavior, it’s a poor excuse,” I laugh. Although there is nothing

funny about my words, I can’t seem to find it in myself to curse him out for it, either.

“Your refusal of me makes me crave you more because I’ve never denied my sins. Your rejection

brings out the urge to take. Wanting the one thing I can’t have triggers me. You trigger me.”

“You looked in control with Regan,” I remind him.

“He’s Wrath and Lust; I am not stupid enough to die, have you seen the size of him?....but--” he trails

off.

“I didn’t exactly deny you,” I breathe, looking down at him. But I did a second ago when I tried to shove

him off, even if it wasn’t intentional.

Zeke’s grip loosens after what feels like an eternity, and I scramble off him.

“I... I am sorry, Zirah,” he starts, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything that happened. I

would take it back if I could,” he tells me as he gets to his feet.

The sincerity in his voice stirs something within me. I look at him, this man - this king - who is so

complex, so filled with contradictions. Yet still, I feel a strange pull towards him, a desire to understand

him, to see through his hard exterior and into the depths of his soul. And I wonder, as I watch him

retreat, whether that’s possible... or if I’m just deluding myself.

“I’ll let you shower,” he murmurs, avoiding my gaze, opening the shower screen. “Or you can join me.

You’re already in here,” I add with a shrug, glancing back at him.

Zeke freezes at my words, his eyebrow lifting in surprise. “I can stay?” he asks, sounding slightly taken

aback.

I nod, turning my back to face the wall, waiting to see what he would do. After a few seconds, the

shower door closes and I turn back to see Zeke pulling off his wet shirt. My breath hitches as I see his

chiseled torso, his muscles rippling with each movement.

Our gazes lock, and the air between us crackles with an unspoken desire. I reach out, my hand

skimming over his chest. Zeke inhales sharply, his muscles tensing under my touch.

My fingers trail lower over his abs, stopping at the waistband of his pants. The intensity of his gaze, the

silent desire in his eyes, sends my heart racing and I’m left wondering how much more intense the

tension between us can get.

“Zirah, don’t tease me,” he growls, his voice thick with barely restrained hunger.

“Who said I am teasing?” I challenge, tilting my head to meet his gaze. There’s an intensity in his eyes,

a primal hunger, that both scares and thrills me.

“I just told you I struggle most with control around you and you want to test that?” he rasps, his grip on

my waist tightening.

“You can’t break me, Zeke,” I say, my voice soft but firm. “You said it yourself. I’ve become your

obsession, your vice because you cannot have me... so why not get me out of your system?”

His eyes widen slightly, taken aback by my suggestion. He’s silent for a moment, studying me intently.

“After all, I am made for you," I tell him, and his eyes flicker dangerously. Without warning, he crushes

his lips against mine, pulling me against him with an intensity that steals my breath away.

Our bodies collide, heat against heat. The thin barrier of his pants is barely enough to contain the

electric charge between us. His hands grip my thighs and he hoists me up, my legs wrapping

instinctively around his waist. Zeke steps forward until I’m pressed against the cool tiles of the shower

wall.

His lips are rough, demanding and there’s an urgency to his touch that leaves me breathless. His hand

explores my body, tracing my curves and igniting a fire under my skin wherever he touches.