Traded To The Lycan King by MG Wattsons

The heater has been at least nice each time and the cominent abjur knowing ine when I wax postinger has sinck in my head and let me with burning questions only he can answer. The onlgique I foresee now i Let's move. Ibiran says, when he notices I am not following along "You must stay close or I can not protect you."

1 scurry to keep up with his long steps and as we come close to the corner, I hear the distinct hobble of the man we have been waiting for. Teiran says nothing as he rushes forward, laying my mother down on "Hold her trouth open," He says, looking up at my dragon partner in crime who pinches my mother's checks and pries her bruised jaw open.

"Careful," I hiss at him, but both of them ignore me, the healer incorking the bottle as he pours it down my mom's throat. "What the hell is that? What are you doing to her?"

"How long?" Teiran asks him and the healer presses his lips together, his fingers touching her neck and feeling for a heartbeat. After a moment, she grows more pale, and he nods at us.

"It's time." Then he flings open his little metal doors and Teiran grabs me, dragging me forward as I try to sink my feet into the cement to stop him.

"Woah, woah, this wasn't part of the plan," I say, putting my hands up.

"It's too late for the original plan. This is called improvising." He says, giving me a serious look that says this is happening

whether I like it or not.

"Maybe you should tell me what we are improvising, you know, just for shits and giggles?" I ask as he frowns, his hand on the back of my head.

"The primary goal has not changed. I get you all out alive. This is where that trust comes into play." He reminds me and I

groan.

"Yeah, trust is hard to come by in a fucking dungeon, as I'm being shoved in a tiny metal cabinet on wheels." I mutter, forcing my body to bend in ways that are not even remotely comfortable. "Your mother will get us out of here the back way."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Used how, exactly?"

He blinks at me before he slams the metal doors shut with a loud echo, closing me in the darkness until my eyes adjust and a tiny sliver of light makes its way into my current tiny prison. It doesn't take long bef Teiran," I hear someone say in a greeting before a pause, “Well shit, what do we have here?"

"The wolf." Teiran says, an air of boredom in his voice.

Spander is going to be set that hes fatorite my is bioken" Itay in a low whistle by the whiny bokeh Ibiran says, "I need the deall La

hon is the clinking of

racing in fear af ping cough. Then I hear a

as it

in my throat at the thought of my mom being dead, he was alive when Teiran picked her up and placed her on the can. And alive when the healer poured that substance down her throat. It is obvious "ATTACK" a voice booms through the hallways, carrying down each stony wall as if the voice were more than the mere echo it is. "All dragons to the main gate!" "Damn it." Teiran growls out at the guard, mimicking his surprised

thunderous footsteps are heard retreating

hope it works and that Merikh is safe at the same time. I know he

A verbal, emotional one, he will sprint a marathon away, but this? No, he will be the one out there striking down anyone who com until

to trust that, if I don't then I will find myself paralyzed and unable to think. Everyone will be okay, that I

now.

every single push feeling like a step closer to eternity when all I want to do is break

tin can and force him to take me out to where the fight is. What will I do? No idea. But I can't sit and do nothing when everyone

much.

I whisper, rapping

I hear Teiran say over my noise. "Are

me to dump after everything is sorted." The warrior says. "Are you sure

verified as well. Here is

on the desk. You should head up as well..." the warrior says,

with her body to do with her what he pleases?"

old blob does do strange things," he mutters. "I

of silence, the doors fling open, and I am ripped out by the

trying to get us all fucking killed?" he growls in my face,

macho dragon, now?" I sass him and his

down the chute." He says,

is disrespectful of the dead, he argues,

you are

you poing?" I ask him and

what I do is my fucking by Theld

my heart hitting the back of my throat as my stomach withs, my Boxy Sailing of anything i can reach. Then

the air whooshes from my lungs. The healer lands far too close for comfort as I stand, wheezing to catch my breath and look up, waiting for try mother's body to m out and cushion her fall. My legs and back scream in pain and I

me, quickly uncorking another vial from a hidden spot in his