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 I am here in one piece, but it

he was wrong. What I understand now is that I want to know why

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

in defeat. "And what does moving on look

freezes, swallowing hard as he blinks

that happening?" I ask him, my hands finding my hips as he looks around, his brows pulled together

my body nearly pressing against his as my

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

one thing: hatred. Hayes has learned to not only hate life, but he has locked everyone

his closeness catching me off guard as his warm

to his lips, watching too eagerly as

presence is damn near overwhelming. The scent I didn't pick up before now wraps around me like a safety blanket and it I can't tell

chest brushes against

guard as he

my face. My breathing hitches and I can feel the heat in my cheeks. I need to cut this tension, obliterate it to smithereens. I

dry, my body light as if it is floating. It doesn't matter how much I want this pull to

bite as if remembering the moment in his mind. What he thinks he saw must have been something far more devious

hand down his face. "Marcos was helping me, Hayes. Just

him, and he watches me expectantly. "The rest of

his head, a laugh breaking from his deformed, yet somehow still

when to give me space," he says, then he points at me.