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.

other when there is no one here to see."

He asks and I

I groan, and he chuckles, nodding

if, for some reason, it didn't have to be for show, if it was

gaze up at him, his long hair slicked back in a bun and his eyes telling me he is developing feelings. Teiran is a dark and foreboding

only chance of having another mate, one that truly completes me. Teiran

open and a servant enters the room, eyes growing wide

Teiran, but the King is

he turns to me, "Get Tiago dressed and

I mutter, glad to put distance between us as I reach for the chubby little guy and move 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."

that once we enter looks a lot more like a fancy living room than an object about to be carried into the sky by a dragon. The couches are red and plush, a soft-looking blanket over the arms in a vibrant orange and

lost his mind. Out of the entire time I have been here, he has been the one thing I will never get comfortable with. His eyes burn through me half the time and the other half they

on

she is not a dog." Teiran sighs, bored

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

the best fake smile I can. "It would seem this dog is worth something." He scoffs and turns away,

sleeping little baby and exhale in disappointment. So I do as I am told, laying the little guy on

Teiran asks, putting his hand 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

mutters. "You will get to mate after

Teiran's hand in worry and he chuckles low, his chest

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

assume he has told you about the dragon's way of mating?" The king asks, smirking at me then looking at Teiran as his muscles

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

better time than now to reignite the

"No." He says plainly.