Traded To The Lycan King by MG Wattsons

*Merikh*

A burst of flame shoots over my head as I drop to my stomach, the heat enough to make my skin feel as if I am standing too close to a bonfire. I roll to my left and up onto my knees, crouching low toward the massive jaded rock where Percy is hiding. Blood pours from above his right eye, but he wears a smile, nonetheless.

Not an excited smile, a manic psychotic one that says he hopes to go out in a literal blaze of glory. His fighting has been stellar aside from the few times he has left himself open to an attack of two I have had to blunder. The more I look at him, the more concerned I am that the openings are intentional.

"You are not allowed to let yourself get killed." I growl at him, watching as he responds to my command. There is a hint of annoyance in his eyes before he chuckles and nods.

"If I die, I will die doing my job." he grins, inching up the rock to take a peek over.

"We are pinned down." I murmur. "The assholes burned us into a fucking corner."

"I can distract them so you can run." Percy says immediately, and I shoot him a scowl. This kid's death wish is getting a little out of hand.

"Pinned down doesn't mean we are out of the fight, Perc. This isn't a game of chess, this is war." I say, scanning the area. "It just means we need to get a little creative."

He snorts, reaching up and pressing on the injury to his head.

"I'm not feeling all that creative, Alpha." He says.

Another blast encases the outside of the rock, flames licking around the side as we move closer together to avoid the heat. I sigh, closing my eyes as I try to process what to do next. In truth, I'm not feeling all that damn creative either. But I am feeling like I will do anything to get away.

"How about desperate?" I ask him with a smile, "You feeling that?" and he nods.

"Yea, feeling a lot desperate at the moment." Percy mutters, dropping his head against the rock. "This heat is making me fucking sweaty and irritable."

I couldn't agree more with him. As lycans, we run a little warmer anyway without faster metabolism. But this? This shit is unbearable and all I can think about is a tall glass of ice cold water and a cool dip in the healing waters with my luna. But if I want either of those things, we need to get a damn move on. And fast.

"How much time do we have between the bursts of flames?" I ask him.

time to recover before they rain their fire down on us for extended periods of time. The only thing we have going for us is that they want to cook us on this blasted boulder so they are combining their

minute, tops." He mutters, "Have you not heard

lost our lycans over ten minutes ago from the exhaustion and the way we are dehydrated like a bunch of grapes in

responding." I mutter, my stomach in knots at the thought that maybe she didn't make it out, or she was knocked unconscious and hidden deeper in their fortress of ash and death. "We can't

the world that could make me leave her here in this living hell, Perc. But we may need to escape

on Percy as I drag him along, tripping over the hot terrain in our bare feet. I can feel the way the hot rocks dip into my skin with ease, like butter on

ass, Percy." I command and he groans, kicking up his speed to

want to be in heat ever again," he scoffs. "No more

can hear the hiss of the air, the dragons preparing themselves to set us on fire like a match struck on a rock and I glance back to see

say in my alpha command voice. He lycan takes over at once, looking labored and exhausted as he tries to fight

has. He takes over, reluctantly, as I

as he lifts a hand, then I see her frame. It has to be here. My lycan pushes himself harder once we focus on her. She stumbles to the ground and I see two figures rush to her and try to lift her as she shoves

through the dry air, a shiver running down

grunts and remains unmoving. I stoop to pick him up, looking over my shoulder, begging the moon goddess for just

top

feels like it may melt.

suddenly

around, realizing the cry isn't mine, but someone

heated flesh. Tears may mix

standing to look around. The dragons rush forward, their flames drenched and unable to ignite again. I sprint through the wall of water, grabbing a slim,

one, of his scales. It squelches, and he roars, shifting back into human form, holding the rock under his arm as blood pours down. He

turn, shift and spin on their heels, running away. I watch as the one with the rock embedded in his arm goes slack, his eyes red as he drops his hand and spins like the others, sprinting

is heading toward Percy, and I look up to see someone on the ground and everyone

that..." I choke on the

"Yes."

I ask, looking at