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."

fatal one and I know I am here in one piece, but it was very, very close to being me in

that I want to know why he thinks so little of me. Was loving him

matches mine in volume. "All I can do is apologize

throw my hands up in defeat. "And what does moving

He freezes, swallowing hard as he blinks

I ask him, my hands finding my hips as he looks around, his brows pulled together in thought. "Well,

second, my body nearly

girl 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

you 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

hitches, his closeness catching me off guard as his

flick to his lips, watching too eagerly as his tongue slips out and wets

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

chest brushes

me off guard

stares into my face. My breathing hitches and I can feel the heat in my cheeks. I

ask, my mouth still dry, my body light as if it is floating. It doesn't

if remembering the moment in

down his face. "Marcos was helping me, Hayes. Just like you had instructed him to do." "Why are you still here?" He asks, the gentle

him, and he watches me expectantly. "The rest

breaking from his deformed, yet somehow still

know when to give me space," he says, then he points