Traded To The Lycan King by MG Wattsons

Chapter 180

Kyra's lips purse as she breathes softly through them, her hair still caked to her forehead and cheeks from where she was sweating. I want nothing more than to sweep the strands from her face, caressing her still flushed skin. But I hold back, refusing to allow myself these small stolen moments. Then again, if stolen moments are the only moments we are destined for, is it wrong to act on them? She mumbles as she adjusts her position with my arm up, allowing her to move as she twists her body toward me. Her chin tilts up, putting the full force of her spectacular freckles on display.

There is no force strong enough in the world to stop me as my fingers gently brush over her brow, freeing her face of the sweat dried hair. Heavens, she is so perfect. More so than when she left. Kyra would have worn me down in a week had she stayed. My ability to tell her no, to see her in pain, would have seen me rejecting any mate that came my way.

I don't know if I did the right thing by rejecting her and ignoring her. I was trying to protect her from the hurt of knowing she wasn't fated to be mine. That little voice in the back of her head saying there is someone else better for me than her. And I was trying to save myself from the fear of finding someone else while I was with her.

"You stayed," she whispers, startling me as I yank my hand back and clear my throat.

"I thought you wanted me to?" I ask, a nervousness causing me to swallow a growing lump in my throat. What if she asked only because she was poisoned and she doesn't remember?

"No, I know it's just that..." She frowns, and looks down at the baby in her arms. "I just figured you would run off after we fell asleep."

"You were shivering." I lie, clearing my throat yet again, and I sit up and look away. Why am I feeling like I need to lie to her? Kyra is well aware that we are mates, I have told her as much and it seems a mately duty to do as she asks.

"I must have been cold." She whispers, but I can hear the doubt in her voice. When I turn to look at her, she is sporting a ghost of a smile. Her eyes watch me closely, peering through me as if she can read my every thought. Kyra knows why I stayed, and she knows why I lied.

"Probably." I mutter, pushing myself up to stand as I turn and look for something to do, anything to do.

"What do you think was used to poison me?" She asks, sitting up as the baby fusses, flailing his little arms.

"That is a good question." I mutter, moving around the trees to find the dead wizard we had discarded earlier. I squat down, pushing the leaves around, looking for any sign of foul play. There is nothing, not a vial or even a familiar scent to the one on him. Until I move closer, leaning down near his head. A thick ooze leaks from the back of his skull.

rigid shoulders and pushing him over. He has been dead for far too long for something to be bleeding out of him. The

but that of

it with care, my nose scrunched in disbelief as I inspect not only my injured finger, but the smell one more time. "What is

or another, but why does it burn now and not before when

takes a cautious step back before I reach out and take the baby into my arms. The infant boy fusses, the tiniest pout on

are you doing?" Kyra panics, reaching for me

doesn't have any of this shit on him." I mutter, peeling back the fabric wrapped around him. His little fists fly up as if he is ready to fight, which only

trying to peek around my arm. "I have checked him over numerous times already. Just give him back to me.

at her. I take a step back, giving us space as I sigh and try like hell not to give her a look of pity. "I think it is best for me to take him for a

I am fine. Now give

if you drop him, or you are too rough, or maybe your scars will scare him?" She seems frantic, like she had been before, back when she was in her daze and convinced I was her dead mate and this was her

at me, taking her eyes off the baby for

saying that about

to her, then another, then I reach out and cup her cheek with

me." I say, demanding her undivided attention. "This is not your baby. He has

rub my thumb over her lips, quieting her. Kyra's eyes twinkle in

Tyler." The memory of her calling me by his name, aching

tears

our baby." I say,

know," her voice is

I tell her, no longer asking if she feels it but demanding that she