Lycan's Prey by Jessica Hall

Chapter 12

The news hit me like a physical blow, forcing the air from my lungs. “Lycan King?” I echo, my voice barely a whisper. I don’t remember the Lycan King in this area, but then again, I haven‘ t seen granny in years since mom, and she had that huge fight over Brielle passing, We were in my grandmother’s care after all, my mother never did forgive her for what happened, she blamed Granny, but it wasn’t granny’s fault, she couldn’t have predicted a drunk driver.

“His castle isn’t far from here. He’s very strict about rogues in the kingdom, so we’ll need to figure out how to register you, or maybe get you an exception.”

Panic surges within me, sending my heart into a frenzied beat. I press a hand against my chest, trying to calm the wild thumping. “So, I’m not in Rhett’s territory anymore?” The thought brings a twinge of relief but also a fresh tide of anxiety. Rhett’s suffocating grip was familiar, a known threat. But this… this proximity to a King I’ve only met once fills me with dread.

“No, you’re in King Soren’s district now,” Granny says, turning back from the window. She gnaws on her bottom lip, deep in thought. “We’re just inside the kingdom grounds here, which is why you’ll need to register.”

“Maybe I can get you a temporary registration as my carer?” she suggests, looking at me with a mix of hope and trepidation. Her hands are trembling slightly, betraying the concern etched into her wrinkles.

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11 288 Wouchers

My breath catches as Granny’s words sink in. Lycans–rulers of our kind. My mind races. Lycans are a different breed- more powerful, more structured, more sinister. They rule over werewolves, create our laws, and govern us. Knowing one is close while Rhett is hunting me is not a good thing because if there is a bounty on me, that means he’ll notify authorities soon then.

Just Granny lying about me being here could get her executed. And if the King’s guard finds me, I am dead meat.

The idea of being in King Soren’s territory, especially knowing Rhett has sold me to him, is terrifying. My thoughts go to the King, how he seemed nice when I met him after saving his son. The gratitude in Soren’s eyes had seemed genuine, so I am struggling to associate the man everyone fears with the man I met.

sol

Granny seeming to notice my hesitation and leans closer. “Listen, the King’s guards are not to be trifled with. Beryl, my neighbor… her grandson was living with her for a while. He tried to hide his new girlfriend here–she was wanted for a felony. She failed to register and the King’s guard took her, and nobody has seen either of them since.”

Her words send shivers down my spine. I recall the kind man who thanked me profusely for saving Max.

“From what I know of him, he seemed…nice,” I say, trying to reconcile the image of the ruthless King with the grateful father who had once looked at me with warmth. But Granny’s humorless laugh cuts through my feeble attempt at optimism.

“Yes, as long as you don’t anger him, he is a good King. But trust me, you don’t want to be on his bad side, the man has a

Chapter 12

temper.”

ominously around the room. I stand there, feeling the walls closing in on me. The man who had shown kindness was also the one who could order

sharp and perceptive. She’s always been able to read me like an open book, even when I was a child

a whisper, “I…” The words lodge in my throat, fear wrapping around them like choking vines.

hands reach out, steady and warm against my

the storm inside me. They blur my vision as I

payment for Rhett’s debt. The complexity of my situation is overwhelming, and as I ponder my next

of fear crossing my face, the way my eyes dart around nervously. “You need

what choice do I have? I can’t stay here. I nod, feeling the weight of like a stone in my stomach. “I have to go,

Chapter 12

safe for me here.” The words tumble out in a rush.

283 (Vouchers

has no jurisdiction

my

confession burning on my tongue, “Rhett… he sold me to the King. I was framed for stealing money that Rhett owed to King Soren.” I confess, the words tasting bitter with the betrayal

knots. “You can’t just leave, you just got here. But maybe, perhaps…”

yet firm, easing the weight off her brittle bones. She leans on me, her body light in weight making me worry even

you, dear,” she murmurs, pointing a finger across the room. I nod

shuffle across the room, her steps tentative against the creaking wooden floor. Granny’s eyes are fixed on an old cupboard, its varnish cracked and peeling. She pulls open a

fingers

56.32%

ค

*+

III

Chapter

208 Vouchers

dusty keepsakes. Then, as if by chance, a

free, a paper ghost caught in a draft. It dances its way to the floor, and I lunge for it, catching it before it can touch

our bikes, hers was bubblegum pink, mine cobalt blue, both gleaming beneath the sun. That same bike

to pull me under. The memory of that day is a wound that time refuses to heal, the edges raw and sharp in my

roughened by years, slices through