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.

have going

"Have you not heard from Luna

shake my head, licking my parched lips in frustration. It has been a solid fucking forty-five minutes of fighting. We lost our lycans over ten minutes ago from the exhaustion and the way

make it out, or she was knocked unconscious and hidden deeper in their fortress of ash and death. "We can't leave

a thing in the world that could make me leave her here in this living hell, Perc. But we may need to escape and regroup. We aren't any good

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

Percy." I command and he

again," he scoffs. "No more beach vacation, I'm going to

run, I 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 them lumbering behind us. I can only be thankful

shift and run as fast and as far as you can." I say in my alpha command voice. He

angrily before taking off at an incredible pace as I force my lycan out, begging him for everything he has. He takes over, reluctantly, as I see someone off in distance now more than a few miles across

It has to be here. My lycan pushes himself harder once

through the dry air, a shiver running down my

I stoop to pick him up, looking over my shoulder, begging the moon goddess for just a little more time. But there

on top

the hairs on my lycan back. burn in the heat and my skin feels like it may melt. I cry out in pain, roar unlike any I have ever let

heat suddenly stops.

and I look around, realizing the cry

feels on my heated flesh. Tears may mix into the wetness pouring down as I try to catch what

sprint through the wall of

jam the rock up and under 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

us, they 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

the ground and everyone else surrounding them. I hustle toward him, meeting him halfway while never removing my eyes from the figure on the

I choke on the

"Yes."

I ask, looking at him as he