Unwanted Mate Of The Lycan Kings
Prey Of The Lycan Queen Chapter 29

~Zirah~

The drive is mostly silent; both Zeke and I are plagued with thoughts we don't feel the need toshare. Yet as we reach a large stretch, I can see the huge looming walls forming a perimeter aroundhis kingdom, tall as skyscrapers. I crane my neck to peer up at the guard standing atop withwatchful eyes. The gates of Regan’s kingdom open before us like the jaws of a mechanical beast,revealing a cityscape that looks more like a meticulously designed movie set than an actual city.

As we drive through, a futuristic fortress emerges from the depths of a thick shroud of silence. Thebuildings, all towering, angular structures of steel and glass, glint in the afternoon sun, their austeresilhouettes painting a grim backdrop against the cloudless sky. Not a soul is visible on the pristinestreets, not a whisper of life resonates in the air as we drive through the first half of the city. It's aneerie stillness, the kind that makes your skin crawl and mind churn.

People, seemingly sucked out of their mundane routines, scurry into the safety of their homes andshops as the limo glides along. Their faces betray their fear, like deer caught in the headlights, eachmovement painstaking and cautious.

I notice litter is absent, no graffiti, no decoration of any sort, instead replaced by vigilant armedguards stationed at nearly every corner, their stern gazes scanning the city. Even the children hereare quiet, their innocent laughter swallowed by the city's overwhelming tension.

As I absorb the unsettling surroundings, a soft humming draws my attention to the sky. Drones, adozen of them, zipping around in coordinated formations. The first thing that hits me about the cityisn't the eerie silence, or the palpable fear that seems to hang over the place like a shroud.

It's the eyes, the haunted, lifeless eyes of the city's residents. “This place...it's a damn prison,” Imutter, scanning the fearful faces peering out from the modern buildings

"Yeah, a futuristic one at that," Zeke answers from beside me. I sense a note of guilt in his voice, anda hint of resignation.

"Why all the security?" I question, gesturing at the drones hovering ominously above us. "What arethose things for?" I ask Zeke, my eyes tracking the drones.

"Cameras, they monitor the city," he says, his voice tinged with unease, his usual vibrancy replacedby an unnerving quietness as I take in the kingdom. I blink, taken aback by the dystopian extent ofsecurity. "They...they keep the peace." Zeke adds.

"Peace?" I scoff, letting out a bitter laugh. "This isn't peace, Zeke, it's terror.”

Approaching the city center, I lower the window, a part of me hoping that the soft rustle of thebreeze or the distant chatter of the city will replace the oppressive silence. Instead, the quietintensifies, as if the city itself holds its breath. It's too quiet, too sterile, too controlled. Yet as wedrive deeper, we notice people running away from the city center. Zeke sits up and in the distance; Ican hear the sounds of shouting, crying, and begging. I glance at Zeke, who moves closer to peerout the window.

A sudden commotion breaks out, drawing my attention to a frightened woman pleading with amarket stallholder. A child, presumably her son, clings to her skirt, tears streaming down his face.The stallholder, a red-faced and fuming man, motioned wildly toward the woman and a young boy.The woman pleads with the stallholder, her words drowned by her son's terrified wails. Her flusteredattempts to calm the situation are met with armed guards storming toward her.

"Guard, she is refusing to pay for what her son broke!" the man yells, waving the armed guardsforward.

Catching the sight of a shattered pot at her feet, I gasp. All this racket for a broken pot?

Without a word, Zeke opens the door and leaps out, his aura of authority evident even from thisdistance. The entire place falls silent as he steps out of the car, straightening his suit, before he leansback in and snatches his wallet from beside me. "Stay in the car," he tells me, shutting the door.Zeke springs into action, snapping at the stall owner and arguing with the guards. He'scommanding, authoritative, but the fear in the air makes me uncomfortable.

"Selfish bastard!" he barks at the stallholder, tossing a wad of cash at him. However, the guardsdon't release the woman at his command, but their grip on her loosens.

I step out of the car and instantly, the city's gaze fixates on me. Drones zoom in, their lenses trainedon me, their humming intensifying like a swarm of angry bees. This is a city under surveillance,people living in the shadows of fear, every move monitored, every action accounted for. It doesn'tsit right with me. My own magic flares in response, a primal instinct to protect and defend. Myhands tremble, my skin tingling with stored energy.

"No more," I demand. All eyes are on me, the city's quiet fear replaced by shocked whispers. Zekeprotests, but I'm past caring. "Zirah, get back in the car," he snarls at me, glancing nervously towardthe sky.

As I draw closer, I take in the guards: sturdy men clad in ominous black, with hard lines etching theirfaces and cold gazes that seem to pierce through the soul. They argue with Zeke, one of thempulling out a phone, presumably to consult their king. Over a broken pot?

Yet, instinct kicks in as I witness the woman clinging onto Zeke, pleading for mercy. I can't standthere, watching this injustice unfold. My fingers twitch, the magical energy within me flaring up."Causo Frango!" I mutter under my breath, directing my energy towards the guard's phone. It fliesout of his hand, hitting the ground, and melting into a molten mess. Gasps ring out audibly, whilethe guard hisses, staring at his hand.

The drones swarm around me, their electronic eyes flashing menacingly.

"Zirah, don't fucking move!" Zeke's voice reaches my ears just as a pronged wire flies towards mefrom a drone. An electric shock jolts through me, making me crumble to my knees, every nerve inmy body screaming in protest. The sensation of a thousand needles pricking my skin overpowersme, and I'm left gasping for breath and absolutely livid. The electric current dies out as the dronescontinue to circle me, beeping and flashing in warning.

With a grunt, I rip the prong out of my shoulder. Anger replaces the pain, electricity cracklingbetween my fingers. My glare fixes on the machine that attacked me. As the drones spin to focus onZeke, I channel my anger."Zirah, don't..." Zeke yells.

The warning comes too late. I throw out my hand, sending a pulse of magic at the nearest drone.Sparks fly as it crashes to the ground, smoke billowing from its wreckage. I continue, targeting eachdrone one after the other until all seven lie damaged on the ground. Yet the moment I take thoseout, more replace them.