Traded To The Lycan King by MG Wattsons

*Hayes*

I squat down next to the ash where a fire had been, placing my hand above it to feel for heat. With my good arm, I reach out, my fingers digging into the cold ash as I lift it and let it fall. I frown at the soot, my eyes scanning the rest of the area, what glimmer of excitement ! "Do you think it was him?" Dean asks, coming up behind me, watching my every move as if he will be clued into what might be going through my head.

had leaches from me. Could it be him? Was the bastard this fucking close, and we missed him?

How the fuck should I know if it was truly Ezrah? Other than the weird ass little nest next to a body sized patch of pressed leaves, I can't definitively say that it was or wasn't him or not. Now, do I believe it was him? Yes. But again, that pesky little thing called proof seems to elude me more often than not.

"Hard to say." I mutter, exhaling my disappointment, only to breathe in curiosity when I see Kyra tilting her head in total silence and surveying the area.

"Shouldn't she be the one sticking her hands in the dirt and shit? Trying to smell it or something?" Nisha asks. I shift my eyes toward her, watching her glare at Kyra, who does nothing but look like she is staring off into space.

"I don't need to stick my hand in dirt to know it's been four days since they were here." Kyra looks at us, her face unreadable as she saunters to the center of the small camp, her body coming within inches of mine before she turns and points at the grass.

"The leaves, though slightly pressed, are rising off the ground. New life is growing beneath them, meaning there has not been pressure on it in days. The ash isn't loose or easily disturbed, meaning it got wet. Not just a drizzling of a canteen on it, but a day or two worth of rain and then a day or two of solid dry weather." She pauses.

"There were storms ahead of our departure," Marcos says with a sly grin as he watches Kyra with ogling eyes I want to gouge out.

"What? Worried you can't track him with that much time between now and then?" Nisha goads.

Kyra remains calm, stepping up to the little nest before she kneels down and reaches in it, her hand touching everything and her fingers gently caressing the little bed. Then she lifts three different leaves to her nose, before she places two back.

After a second she turns to her left, searching the bedding for others, and repeats the process only to frown and sniff the one in her hand again. She sneezes and then her body shakes as she stands abruptly and takes three steps back. Kyra's eyes water, tears streaming down her cheeks as she groans and rubs her face with her hands, leaf still in her grip.

"I need water." She hisses, her arm extending out in search of help. "Now!"

to find my canteen as I move to her side, trying like hell to get the cap off, but my fingers don't do what I tell them, my dumb nerves slowing me down as Marcos gently

his inability to not seize any opportunity to be close to her no matter what. It is wildly inappropriate. "Ezrah knows what he is doing," Kyra grits out, Marcos' hands cup her face next as his water jug falls to his waist on its string. His uniformed, unburned and unmangled thumbs brush her eyes gently, tenderly rubbing along her freckles and cheeks. I swallow the rise of annoyance and anger in my throat, looking away, placing my

croaking as she tries to mask the pain. Marcos looks down at her, his face mere inches from Kyra's, as he tries to glimpse her face up close. He purses his lips, gently blowing on her eyelids. "What does

mask his scent."

look at the jealous werewolf, tired of her constant shitty attitude toward

shut the fuck up."

down. A flicker of disappointment fades into embarrassment as she clears her throat and looks away. She finds Koda, and like a dog with its tail between its legs, she hurries to his side, tucking into him. "I'm fine." Kyra says, the relief in

do you need to do before we leave this site?" I

"Nothing." She shrugs.

pull together in doubt and I can sense I am not the only one surprised by her

for asking this but, don't you need to look around more?" Marcos asks, out of

covered cheeks, her eyes red and puffy

tracks well. Which means any other clues are gone. The fact that he has something and lays

says flatly. "But what good are you

his offensive words with a soft hum and a flirty

would be useless." She

with a wink, and she

hate to sound overconfident, but you are right. I am not your average tracker." She says, looking around. "Tyler was the best tracker,

are...feeling...the area?" Dean asks, his lips tilted down, and a brow

chuckles and then

what I see but what I DON'T