The Lycan King's Healer
The Lycan King’s Healer – Chapter 16

“What are you doing?” I demanded harshly as I dangled like a doll from his shoulder.

“Let go of me, you jerk!”

As he ascended the stairs, I drummed my fists along his spine and kicked my dangling legs against his stomach. He did not even flinch; my protests were no stronger than butterfly wings flapping against his barreled chest. I even bit him a couple times. Theo did not come to my aide; I was surprised Aldrich would do this in front of him to begin with. I suppose my son and his father’s bond ran deeper than I theorized. My protective boy did not utter a word in assistance or protest. I silently cursed Aldrich for influencing him so much; he definitely wanted to be just like him.

“You’re my wife,” he nonchalantly responded, pulling open my bedroom door. “How is a man hugging his wife considered a jerk?” The sunset was dimming to a dark, twilight sky outside my window, and the last shreds of today’s light kissed my bedsheets.

“This isn’t a hug, this is assault!’ I argued, batting against his shoulder blade like it was a knot of dough. “Unhand me or I will divorce you.”

“I simply won’t agree, unless I’m dead,” he said smugly, then paused pretending to consider it further. “No, not even when I’m dead.”

Suddenly, I dropped like a heavy rock onto the bed. I gasped, my breath escaping me. In one fluid motion, as my head hit the pillow his face was hovering closely over mine. He was so close our breaths intermingled, his warm on my face. His long hair framed his jaw like

marvelous light brown curtains, and I decided he genuinely was beautiful. In the last shreds of day’s light, bent over me in this fashion, he looked like a handsome man with a boyish element to his face. If the war hardened him at all, it did not appear in his features. He had a soft yet angular face, his jaw sharp but his eyes still swimming with amusement and wander.

The wolf inside me surfaced against my will, sniffing him restlessly. He smelled of warm wood and lavender, seductive even in his scent. For some reason, the wolf inside of me was drawn to it, craving it. It both excited and comforted me.

He ran his fingers delicately down my face, tracing my jaw lightly as wisps of summer breeze. His skin was rough but his touch was gentle.

“You’re mine, Cathy,” he whispered, sending shivers down my spine.

I swallowed, holding my breath. “I’m not,” I gasped. I then ripped my stare away from his face and attempted to focus on the glass of water on my nightstand, pretending it was more interesting than him.

“Theo is, too.”

“He’s not!” I demanded breathlessly, daring to glare up at him. Close or not, I was notafraid of him anymore.

“Oh, but he is,” Aldrich smirked knowingly. He said it with uttermost confidence, and I wondered what brought him to this stark revolution.

“Just because you want him to be, doesn’t mean he is,” I snapped, “you can teach him all the arrow and pony games you want. It still doesn’t mean anything.”

None of my words even left a dent upon his conviction, and his devious smile was unwavering. “You must deem me a fool, darling.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I’m lying,” I scoffed.

He pinned my wrists down to the bed. I gazed up at him opposingly, drowning in the liquid forest within his eyes, irises of emeralds and soil browns.

“If you lie…” he drawled, pressing his body against mine. I felt something hard against my abdomen, and I suppressed a shudder. “I’ll punish you. Right here, I’ll punish you.”

My body felt like it was on fire, veins containing pools of magma and my bones charring to ash. The female wolf almost gave in to him. My brain, against my will, instantly flicked back to images of our wedding night, and what he felt like inside me. Ever since then, I’ve felt distinctly empty.

But Cathy didn’t give in. I refused to answer, looking at him blankly. As if my body wasn’t screaming to submit to him.

Just as his gaze landed on my lips, looking like he was going to press the matter even further which I knew I would not be able to handle, I flicked my fingers in the slightest motion.

In a split moment, I decided to experiment with a spell that knocks one unconscious. But it was like trying to charm a wall; he did not react, and as if it ricocheted against him, it hit me right in the temples.

The spell hit me hard, rendering me dizzy with black splotches staining my vision. I clawed into his hands holding me down, grasping at consciousness. It would be too embarrassing to faint because of my own spell in front of him, equivalent to accidentally punching myself in the face. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on breathing, but his close proximity did not help. I was just breathing him in more, so my pulse did not lessen.

I heard his deep voice through the thin fog. “How did you cause Emily’s and mymother’s illnesses?” he murmured, and I was too vulnerable to forge a lie.

Instead, I hissed through grinded teeth: “Why should I tell you?”

“Because I’m your husband,” he huskily responded in my ear, and even in the fog, I thought of him wrapping his arms around me and taking me far away.

“You will never be my husband,” I said darkly.

My vision began to slowly reassemble, and I watched the curious, slightly disapproving expression darken his face. “What?” I breathed, tilting my head mockingly. “Did I do something wrong? Are you going to punish me?” I challenged, frowning and twisting my body away from him on the bed.

I was done with this nonsense.

“Of course I will punish you…,” he said with devious mischief heavy in his voice, tightening his grip on my wrists.