Traded To The Lycan King by MG Wattsons

Chapter 103

It’s been days now, and with every a stronger, more confident Colette. sunrise come She wakes before the sun, barely eats play with the water. Not that

and then she is off to I am bitter.

I get to hold her as she snores all night long, watching her perfect face, measuring every single breath, and adding it to my list of favorite things she does. But, I am lonely. It’s different to miss someone when they are gone. I missed her so much it caused physical pain when she was gone.

This is a stranger version of that. It’s watching her grow and loving every minute but longing for that reunion we missed out on. In books or a movie, the heron rescues the woman and they embrace, and then they get their happily ever after.

She has been both rescued and the rescuer and yet, our happily ever after is still yet to come. I want to memorize every part of her, erase the horrors she experienced with mind numbing pleasure.

But most importantly, I want a real fucking life with her. Colette deserves a life of simple pleasures. A walk to the beach, swimming with our children, laughing as I do something incredibly stupid as we know I will.

There is a knock at my door and I sigh, pushing away from the small weathered table in our little room. It is no surprise to see Melody on the other side, looking more healed than she has been, though she still seems sickly. Not that it should surprise me with her mate still maintaining a literal ocean between them.

“Have you spoken with her yet about your idea?” She asks, wringing her hands. I sigh and give her an annoyed frown before pushing past her into the hallway.

“No, Melody, I have not.” I tell her, padding down the hall toward the kitchen. My inability to sleep for fear of waking up to Colette not being there is taking a toll on me.

“Is that because you are afraid she will do something stupid?” She asks, chasing me down. For the past three days since telling her and Calvin my thought process on how to take down Giselle, she has been trying to convince me I should keep it from Colette.

“I don’t keep things from Colette.” I remind her, and she races around the counter, blocking the coffee pot from me.

“And yet

it’s been days and you haven’t told her yet.” She says as if she has caught me in some terrible scheme. I sco and roll my eyes.

“Melody, you are standing between me and the only shred of sanity I haye. Move out of

M

18:15 Sat, Aug 3 R

Chapter 103

the

way

and then we can talk.” I growl.

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her hands over her shirt as

in the face.

I understand

her daughter back after ten years. Melody isn’t aware of how strong and wonderful her

rather, less exhausted from training, I will tell

is awake

on mind.

my

seat at the table that overlooks the very waves our mates

mind either lost or maybe it shuts off from time to time. Perhaps a learned trait from years of pain and

does this a lot, staring

of coffee, I groan to myself and take my mug

we may be seat across from her, moving it to face the window as well. If w able to catch a glimpse of them.

ever since Colette learned she can hold her breath for an extended period of time

wolf form she can breathe underwater. We are lucky

every couple of hours.

them for

at my steaming cup. She lets out a

come see me?” Melody whispers, clearing her throat as she moves around in

She picks at the fabric of

don’t know what we are,” she whispers into the air. “Parents, estranged lovers, broken…anything but mates, I guess.”

yet again clears her throat. I reflect on her statement, weighing each word before realizing Colette and I have been two of those three things and yet, here we are stronger for it.

who love and care for each other.” I tell her. “One day Colette and I

certain Caspian holds blame for me in his

Chapter 103

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regret and guilt. As if she feels the pain of it all so freshly even though Colette is safe and alive. Even though she laid her life down for her daughters. I furrow my brows and place my mug down, turning in

as she sighs and places her hand over her heart. And nods as a soft sob

had been here. If he had been available and present for us more than an occasional week or weekend, he could

life,” I say, frowning, and she lets out a bereaved chuckle as she wipes her eyes.

parents who can do no wrong. All she gets

me fully, a look of confusion as she opens her mouth

thing you need is to sit here and think

did