Traded To The Lycan King by MG Wattsons

*Kyra*

The person in the mirror is unrecognizable. A woman dawned with jewels and a gown made of golden embellishments, weaved with skilled hands to highlight every curve. Every time I turn, I reflect every sliver of light, igniting the room in soft yellow hues. My hand glides over my nervous stomach, trying to soothe myself. I look stunning; I feel stunning and yet...

I hate it.

I hate how this gown wasn't one I got to choose, or how the colors make my face look pale and my freckles have been covered with makeup to make me appear, in their words, 'Blemish free'. This dress is every bit dragon and zero bit me. Hell, even little Tiago who sits on the bed behind me is scrunching his nose in distaste. "It's awful." I mutter, and he falls backwards, laughing. "Oh, really?"

I spin and rush toward the little chubby beast, grabbing his ankle gently and tugging him toward me as I tickle his tummy.

"Is that funny, huh? You think it's so funny that I don't like it, huh?" I giggle along with him, the only bright spot in this dark cave of a mountain I am now coerced into calling home.

"Mama," he squeals and I stop, my hands shaking and my mouth dry. He blinks, grabbing my hand with his tiny fingers, grinning wide. "Mama,"

"Oh, no, no, sweetie. It's Ky not Mama." I croak, clearing my throat as I drop to my knees with difficulty, the dress squeezing on my thighs tight, but at least it's distracting from the grip on my chest.

"Is that the first time he has called you that?" Teiran asks, strolling out of the bathroom. He looks smart in this ashen gray suit with gold asymmetrical button crossing from his left hip up to his right shoulder, where the lapel lays down over his chest in the same golden embroidery that matches my gown.

"Yeah, it's just what all kiddos say first when they learn to talk. You know, dada and mama." I smile at the little baby, still weirded out by the random growth spurts that age him anywhere from days to weeks just over night.

"To him you are his mother," Teiran reminds me, Reach out a hand to help me up.

"I am aware of that," I mutter, feeling uneasy at the title. "It's just...strange, to be called that when I know who his real mother is, and his father is the dragon who led to so much suffering."

"We are going to try to fix that," he says, his eyes meeting mine as he smiles and then he lifts my hand and spins me.

"Well, what do you think?" I ask him. He drinks me in, his eyes raking over my dress before he lands on my hair and then my face, a smirk coming over his lips.

"I dare say you have never looked finer, Kyra." He says, offering me a bow before he presses his lips to my hand. I scoff and roll my eyes.

like each other when there is no one here to see." I

I don't like you?" He asks and I

and he chuckles,

for now." He says, "But if, for some reason, it didn't have to be for show, if it was

he is developing feelings. Teiran is a dark and foreboding prince, but he is kind and yes, he is very much a sexy man.

me being lucky, this is me being held here on the promise of safety for my entire kind. This is me missing out on the only chance of having another mate, one that truly completes me.

enters the room, eyes growing wide before

didn't mean to interrupt, Prince Teiran, but the King is

out now." then he turns to me, "Get Tiago dressed and

him to the couch, placing him in a matching outfit to mine and Tieran's. I stand him up, my lips mashing together to keep from laughing at his pout as he tugs at the pants. "Stop that, Tiago. You look adorable, I promise." I giggle, leaning in, rubbing my nose to his, which always makes him

about to be carried into the sky by a dragon. The couches are red and plush, a soft-looking blanket

has been the one thing I will never get comfortable with. His

He calls out to me, sipping on

Teiran sighs, bored with

can't believe you chose a dog to mate with," He

other as a mate." I say sweetly to him, plastering on the best fake smile I can. "It would seem this dog is worth something." He scoffs and turns away,

little baby and exhale in disappointment. So I

out for me to take. He then draws me into his body, my back pressed to his chest as he wraps his arms around my waist. His chins rests on my exposed shoulder as he hums, and pressed a soft kiss to my neck. I chuckle nervously as his dad

mutters. "You will get to

hand in worry and he chuckles low, his chest rumbling behind

of how it works, father." He says light hearted. "We have chosen each

asks, smirking at me then looking at Teiran as

hundreds of years, Father." He says, but I hear the panic in his

time than now to reignite the old

"No." He says plainly.