Lycan's Prey by Jessica Hall

Chapter 85

“Of course, Soren. I am grateful for your… understanding,” he says, though the gratitude seems to claw at his throat on its way out.

“Good.” My gaze doesn’t falter as I fix him in place with a look that brooks no argument. “Then we are clear. Your debt will be settled, and the alliance can proceed without further hindrance.”

“Thank you,” he mutters, the words barely audible.

With a nod, more to myself than to him, I prepare to disconnect the call, knowing full well that while today’s agreement might pause any pack wars for now, it’s the actions that follow that will decide if these two packs ever come to an alliance again.

*****

~Aubrey-

I stagger out of Damian’s car, wincing with each step as if I’m navigating a minefield in my trousers. The raw aftermath of my waxing session makes every movement feel like I’m rubbing sandpaper between my thighs–or what’s left of them. The castle looms ahead, its ancient stones suddenly mocking my very modern pain.

My pants chafe with every step, a cruel reminder of my now too–smooth situation. It’s like walking with two angry, hairless ts fighting in my underwear. With no protective buffer,

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Chapter 85

every seam feels like it’s plotting against me.

Soren is waiting, his smile quickly turning to a puzzled frown as he watches me waddle up the drive. The confusion on his face morphs into shock as I approach, moving like a penguin.

calls out, trying to mask his concern with humor as he takes in my

grunt, managing a glare in his direction. “Feels like I’ve just ridden a

into a bizarre bow–legged shuffle. “What happened to you?” he asks, trailing behind

that could curdle milk. Ignoring his question, I beeline for the kitchen, each step a reminder of the day’s atrocities. “Just a

what happened?” he asks, looking at

and it took a liking to

sympathetically as I make a pained face. “Looks

I correct him with

joyful sound that, despite my discomfort, makes the corners of

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Chapter 85

280 (Vouchers

door for

anything cold, my new best friends being frozen peas or, ideally, an entire iceberg I can shove inside my pants to bring my core temperature down.

of frozen peas. I press it against my tortured southern region, sighing in relief as the cold numbs the stinging. Soren follows, amusement written all over his

the scene. “It can’t

been born a witch. “I

kitchen, and I can’t help but fantasize about smothering him with the pea bag. Instead, I storm off, walking like a cowboy who’s spent a week riding bareback to our room so I can remove

I trudge up the stairs, praying for a miracle that would numb this pain. Soren’s laughter echoes behind me, only making

will!” I snap

and brace myself, pulling the denim down my legs