Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“I hope you enjoy dinner,” he tells me. “I didn’t think to ask if you’re allergic to anything. Forgive me.” He tips his head to the side in apology, and I can’t help but take in the shadows that dance across his face from the flames.
“Oh, no, I’m not. I pretty much eat anything.” We settle in after that, eating in comfortable silence, and for the first time since I was brought here, I feel normal. Perhaps it’s a mistake to allow myself the liberty of not being scared or worried about what’s going to happen, but knowing we’re right next door to Gran’s house also sets me at ease.
“Your grandmother is looking forward to the gala,” Lycan says as we’re halfway through our meals. This causes me to snap my focus on him.
“You spoke to her?” Disbelief laces my tone because she hasn’t even bothered to talk to me or even ask after me. Surely, she’s concerned about me being here.
“I did. I gave her a call earlier to let her know you’re well.” I’m staring at Lycan, mouth gaped in shock at his cavalier attitude. “I’ve known her a long time,” he continues in between bites of his dinner. “She’s a formidable woman.”
“Why did you not allow me to speak to her?”
“You’ll see her soon enough,” he tells me before popping a forkful into his mouth. His jaw works as he chews, his shrewd gaze locked on me. Suddenly, my appetite has dissipated into a swirl of anger, not at Lycan this time, but at my grandmother.
Instead of finishing my half-eaten meal, I pick up my wine and gulp down what’s left before glancing at Lycan, who’s holding the bottle ready to fill up my glass. I allow him to before drinking down half of what he poured. Anger sluices through me at how my family can just allow me to be taken.
“I’m sorry,” Lycan says suddenly, causing me to focus on him instead of swirling the crimson liquid in my glass. “Sometimes family isn’t always what you expect them to be.”
“Like with your brother?” I throw out, remembering how he warned me against the man who chased me through the woods. The hunter who wanted to steal me. The thought has a cold shiver skittering down my spine.
“Yes.” It’s only one word, but it’s drenched in agony and rage. Lycan doesn’t look at me as he finishes his meal before lifting the white napkin to wipe his mouth. Once he’s done, he sits back, drink in hand, to stare out at the dark garden beyond our idyllic setting. “There were times when I was younger, after my father died, that I believed Darius would come home.”
“I’m sorry you had to lose two people you loved.” For a moment, he looks human. Almost. I guess grief makes people seem more real because it’s only then they allow you to see inside them. The pain takes hold, and the walls they build come crashing down, even if only for a short moment. And that’s what I glimpse in Lycan now. The heartbroken young man, not the wolf who could devour me whole.
“Love is merely an empty promise,” he murmurs before sipping his drink. The wine staining his lips blood-red. “It’s a word people throw around when there’s nothing more to say or when they feel as if they’re losing the game of life.”
“That’s not a way to look at it.”
This time, he pins me with those emerald orbs. “Isn’t it?” His dark brow arches, his jaw ticking as he regards me, and those beautiful eyes glimmer with a challenge.
“No. Because love makes you strong, it makes you fight for what’s right.” Even as I say it, I feel like a martyr because I’ve never been in love. I’ve only read about it in romance novels, which, to be fair, are all fiction. I don’t know the depth of passion in my own right, only what I’ve come to learn from the heroes within the pages of a book.
“You’re one of those girls who wants the knight in shining armor to save you,” Lycan remarks. “I’m not that. I never will be.” Darkness crosses over his face. His eyes hold danger, and even though I should be scared, I’m not.
“I don’t need a knight to save me,” I bite out, frustration at being called out, lancing my chest, causing my cheeks to heat, and I pray he can’t see my embarrassment stained on my face.
“Next time you’re in danger, and you’re thinking about what you can do to get out of it, I want you to recall this moment. Remember the words you uttered because I may not be a knight, but if anything happens to you, I’ll be there,” Lycan informs me. “And only when you finally admit you’re mine will I kill everyone in my path to keep you safe.” He tips his glass toward me in a cheer before he swallows back the last of his drink. His throat works as he swallows, and I can’t help but watch him with anger and desire fueling my blood.