Traded To The Lycan King by MG Wattsons

"I don't know what to say," I admit, his honesty catching me off guard. Since the second he laid eyes on me again, he has been nothing short of rude and cold. Every word has been a stab at me in one way or another. But now he suddenly racked with guilt and

apologizing?

"There is nothing to say, Kyra. You asked for your apology and I gave it to you," he says matter of fact.

"And that's it? We go back to constant fighting and bickering?" I ask, arching a brow. He pauses, then lets out a low sigh, his good hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I don't know," He admits. "What do you want from me?"

I scoff. "For starters? Maybe you not trying to sabotage me at every turn."

He frowns like I am speaking some untruth, and I give him a stern look.

"Fine. But in my defense, I wasn't the one to drug you." He says.

"Did you tell Marcos to do it?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. He looks away and shrugs, refusing to answer, and I roll my eyes. "Of course you did."

"I didn't want you to get hurt." He tells me, and I see how sincere he is, but sincerity doesn't matter when you mess up.

"Yeah, that worked out really well." I scoff, throwing my hands up in frustration, and he winces.

"In retrospect, it was a bad decision." He admits. "Dragons are not known for being in this area, even scouts. We are still close to the water and they usually avoid it."

not just a bad decision, it was a near fatal one and I know

that he admits he was wrong. What I understand now is that I want to know why he thinks so little of

volume. "All I can do is apologize and ask if we can

my hands up in defeat. "And what does

freezes, swallowing hard as he blinks

like for us? You want to move on from this? Fine. How do you envision that happening?" I ask him, my hands finding my

him in a second, my body nearly pressing against his as my anger

you remember and the woman standing in front of you are very different people. I do not cower and I do not run. You need to find this Fae? I am your only hope of finding him. I can promise you that." His eyes meet mine and for a moment the air grows thick, the forest around us silent as I get lost in his hazel

hate me so much?" I whisper, my chest breaking open. All his actions and reactions point to one thing: hatred. Hayes has learned to not only hate life, but he has locked everyone out, and I

breathing hitches, his closeness catching me off guard as

eyes flick to his lips, watching too eagerly

scent I didn't pick up before now wraps around me like a

brushes against

guard as

I need to cut this tension, obliterate it to smithereens. I can't allow

light as if it is floating.

his words full of bite as if remembering the moment in his mind. What he thinks he saw

his face. "Marcos was helping me, Hayes. Just like you had instructed him to do." "Why are you

he watches me expectantly. "The

from his deformed,

when to give me space," he says, then he points at me. "You clearly don't remember me