Unwanted Mate Of The Lycan Kings
Prey Of Lycan Queen Chapter 1

~Regan~

I can't stand still. The damp dungeon feels like it is closing in on me. My chest is tight as I pace backand forth, the flickering torchlight casting eerie shadows on the walls. Zeke sits in a corner, nursinghis injuries, his face a mask of pain and anger after we tried to break the bars on the cell.

The steel was spelled decades ago. You'd think it would have worn off by now. But clearly not as Ilook at my hands. The bars are infused with water hemlock and wolfsbane, which causes nastyburns. All three of us burned to pieces. My hands feel like rubber because the burns are that deep.Lyon stares vacantly at the remains of the curse on the blackened walls. A curse I have committed tomemory, not that it has done me any good over the years. However, Lyon is trapped in the confinesof his mind, staring at it like he can figure out the curse if he stares at it long enough. And theguards are useless.

We can't even command them since my father ordered them not to take our orders. We tried. Oneguard even passed out resisting our commands and hasn't woken up. He's laid on the cold concreteground since, bleeding from his ears. He isn't as old as the two vampires guarding, Elias or us, andhis healing ability is not as quick as they normally are from resisting our commands.

Suddenly, heavy footsteps echo through the corridor. Malachi appears, his eyes wild with fear andurgency. He's been running; that much is clear. He glances around, spotting the guards, who swiftlyturn to see the intruder. Gnash gets up beside me, growling as his fur brushes my leg. For a fewtense seconds, the guards stare at him warily. Malachi snarls, "Stand down.” Malachi orders.

"They can't. My father commanded them," I tell him, and Malachi curses and shakes his head whilethe guards nervously look at each other.

"Forgive me," Malachi tells them, and without hesitation, he launches himself at them.

His movements are swift and precise, like those of a well-trained fighter, and he should be. Hetrained these men, so he plays them like a fiddle, using their own moves against them. Hence, thestudent won't surpass the teacher in this case. Not when that teacher is of noble blood too.

I watch in awe as he takes them down one by one as he moves through them effortlessly. Aspinning kick sends one guard crashing into the wall while another is flipped over Malachi'sshoulder, landing hard on the cold stone floor. In a matter of seconds, the guards are unconscious,their bodies sprawled across the corridor, except for one.

Breathing heavily, Malachi grabs the collar of the last conscious guard, Elias. His face only inchesaway from the guard's face. "Where's the key?" he demands. His voice is a growl.

Elias, bloodied and bruised, manages to wheeze out, "King Theron... he has it." With a furious growl,Malachi delivers a knockout punch to his face, sending him slumping to the floor.

Turning to us, I can see the panic etched on his face when he speaks, "We need to get you out ofhere. Your father has lost his damn mind!"

My heart pounds in my chest as I step forward, gripping the steel bars of the cell. "What'shappened? Where is she?" I demand, my voice laced with the panic that is strangling me.

Malachi hesitates, his eyes full of worry. "In the town square," he finally answers. Zeke moves towardthe bars.

"In the town square?” Malachi nods, glancing up at the bars and at the hinges.

"Malachi!" He pauses.

"What's going on?" I demand.

"History is about to repeat itself if I don't get you out of here,” Malachi states, touching the bars andhissing as he jerks his hands back.

My grip on the bars tightens, and I can feel the heat from the wolfsbane and water hemlock infusedinto the metal, burning my skin. Gritting my teeth, I ignore the pain, the need to save Zirah,overriding everything else when Zeke pushes me aside and grips one bar, and I take the other.

All I can smell is our flesh burning when the bars finally creak, bending, and Gnash seeing the gapleaps through it instantly, followed by Hunter and Shadow. Gnash hesitates, almost as if he iswaiting for us, but the gap is too small. It is a tight fit for them to escape through.

"Get to your master,” I command Gnash. "And kill anyone that gets in your way, friend or foe," I tellGnash, and he whines but obeys, darting up the basement steps before tearing off out of thedungeon. "

Quick!" I tell Zeke, whose hands are a bloody mess. Sweat coats him, and his arms are burned fromleaning on the bars.

Lyon shoves Zeke out of the way, half his skin remaining on the bar as his hands tear away from it—determination on his face. Lyon and I use our combined strength to bend the bars further apart. Thestrain on our muscles and the burning sensation of the poisonous metal is almost unbearable.

But we pry them apart just enough to slip through the gap.

"Zirah?" I ask Malachi.

"About to be burned at the stake,” Malachi states. The news terrorizes me, and my heart racesfaster.

My heart races as my brothers and I sprint through the dark, narrow streets, our legs pumping withadrenaline. We chase after our wolves, Gnash, Hunter, and Shadow, as they lead us to the townsquare.

As we burst into the town square, we're met with a frenzied, chaotic scene. The crowd is packedtight, their faces twisted with a mixture of hatred, fear, and excitement. Their shouts and jeers aredeafening, creating a noise that grates my nerves and fuels my anger.

We push our way through the mass of bodies, our hearts pounding with desperation as we fight toreach the center of the square. The sight that greets us when we finally break through is horrifying.Zirah, the woman I love, is tied to a stake and surrounded by menacing guards. The air is thick withtension and anticipation, and I know we don't have much time.

Our wolves launch themselves at the guards, tearing through them with ferocious snarls andpowerful jaws. The crowd gasps and recoils in fear, their cries of surprise and terror adding to thechaotic chorus that fills the air.

"Father, stop this madness!" Zeke's voice is filled with desperation, his eyes wide and pleading."She's not Litha! She's not responsible for the curse!" I argue, trying to make him see reason.

But my father remains unmoved, his cold eyes locked on Zirah as the flames rise higher. He ordersthe few guards that haven't run from us to continue, as they douse the pile of wood with fuel, I feelmy heart stop. This can't be happening. I can't lose her.

My brothers and I attack the guards, trying to reach Zirah before it's too late. The flames explode,and she screams as fire engulfs her legs. Her screams pierce the air, tearing through my heart andbreaking my soul as I try to get to her.

Yet amidst the chaos, the crowd breaks, making everyone pause to look as Kelly steps forward,hands raised, then another woman, and another, their voices joining together, echoing through theplace. They stand around the square, taking center stage, their magic resounding through the air. Iwatch in shock as they chant, their words weaving through the stormy night like a bewitchingmelody.

"In the shadows cast by a fire's glow, where sinners hide, and virtues grow..."

Their voices grow louder and more powerful with each line, and as I glance at their faces, I realizewho they are. Right under our noses all this time, they're the daughters of the original coven. Litha'sCoven. My heart clenches with a mix of awe and fear.

As the coven daughters step forward, one by one, I watch them continue the rites of their mothersand grandmothers. Once again, they stand defiant against our father and his tyranny. Their magic isstrong, and as they chant, I can feel the energy pulsing through the air, a tangible force that makesmy skin tingle.

"A goddess of virtues, a high priestess witch, born from flames..." I rush toward Zirah, flames lickingmy skin as I help Zeke with the chains.

While Zeke and Lyon work to break Zirah's chains, however, her head falls forward on my chest Iknow we're losing her. I make a desperate decision, I sink my teeth into her neck, hoping thatmarking her will somehow save her from this fate.

The taste of her blood fills my mouth, but something is wrong. Instead of the warmth andconnection I expected, I choke on the metallic taste like its charcoal and burning embers scorchingmy throat, leaving a rancid taste in my mouth. My body is weakening as I realize that marking herisn't healing her but poisoning us all.