Unwanted Mate Of The Lycan Kings (by jessica hall)

Chapter 57

I watch each of them. Whatever Regan just said seems to have made Zeke angrier, Regan looks

worried, and Lyon stares at Regan with an indecipherable expression on his face.

“Still think he isn’t trying to kill us!” Zeke sneers, but I am lost at what they figured out.

“No, this is bullshit! There is no guarantee!” Lyon snaps, stalking out of the room. Regan glances at him

over his shoulder before looking at Zeke.

“Ah, what is going on?” I ask.

“Nothing! We have a date; now get up!” Zeke snaps at me.

“Zeke?” Regan snarls, but Zeke shakes his head and holds up his hand.

“No, Regan. Choose which side you’re on. Either you choose her, or you choose us! Either way, if he

has found a witch to break, it means she chooses who lives out of us, so make your fucking choice,

Regan, your brothers, or some human you barely fucking know,” Zeke snaps, stalking over to me.

"What?" I squeak, stepping back from Zeke. Gnash growls at Zeke, and my eyes dart to the wolf.

"Daddy dearest fucked up if he thinks we wouldn't figure it out. I am not being no damn sacrifice!"

"Figure out what?" I ask, moving out of his reach again.

"That you're not here to find our humanity. You're here to choose the two sons he's going to sacrifice to

break the curse and save the other. That's why you're here. He can't fucking choose who he loves

more, so you'll choose for him! Not on my watch, you won't." Zeke snarls.

He grabs my arm, hauling me to my feet, and I shriek. Gnash instantly jumps to his feet and moves to

tear into him. At the last second, Regan rips him back before he can attack Zeke. I look at him, but

Regan won’t even meet my gaze. Instead, he just holds Gnash in place while Zeke drags me out of his

room.

“Regan?” I murmur, he just turns away from me, and Zeke shoves me out the door, sending me

sprawling onto the floor in the corridor. My head bounces off the floor with a sickening crack when Zeke

slams Regan’s door shut behind me. Getting to my hands and knees, I spot Lyon. Gone is his playful

attitude from last night as he watches me crawl to my feet, only for Zeke to grab me by my hair. I cry

out and clutch his hand, fisting my hair, and Zeke hauls me upright. However, Lyon looks at the wall as

Zeke jerks my head back. This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

“Don’t look at them for help. They won’t. Blood is thicker than water, especially when our lives are

intertwined. Did you seriously think Regan would choose you over himself? Over his brothers?” he

laughs, dragging me toward my room.

He tosses me inside, and I stumble to catch myself on the end of the huge bed, my hands clutching the

wood, and my scalp burns fiercely. “That old fucking fool, did he think he could get away with this just

because he’s fucking dying!” Zeke screams, slamming my door shut.

My hands shake as I try to figure out what just happened and what puzzle pieces were put in place to

set this all in motion. “Get dressed!” Zeke snaps, and his eyes move around the room, and he smirks.

“You old fool, don’t worry; I will play by your stupid rules. Let's see you decide then!” Zeke spits, and I

glance around, trying to figure out what he’s looking for.

“I said get dressed. We have a date!” Zeke yells at me, pointing to the closet. I hurry over to it, and he

follows, shoving me in. I shriek leaves my lips as I hit the huge armoire that takes up an entire wall. The

mirror cracks against the crown of my head, and I rub the spot, my fingertips turning red with my blood.

“Pants, you can’t run in a fucking dress!” he snaps behind me when I reach for the first thing on a

hanger. He tosses some pants at me, and I flinch.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask worriedly, and he smiles wickedly.

“Hunting!” he says, storming out of the room, and my stomach drops.

My hands shake as I remove my pajamas and pull on my pants, turning I look for a shirt when I notice

my arms, all my runes have burned out, and the fluorescent blue-white they usually are has faded into

pale scars, yet still, they stand out against my tanned skin. Twisting, I look at the ones that travel down

my spine. The first four have turned black; the bottom three are still their normal bluey-white. Yet I can’t

take my eyes off the ones that changed color. Confusion sets in. Why did they not fade and change like

the others?

They now glitter like the night sky, darker, however, almost black; I try to make sense of the markings

and what granny told me they were for, what the colors represent. Blue is peace and protection, the

white hue surrounding it, is power essence, a blank slate. However, now they’ve faded; I know it means

nothing good. The fading runes on my arms mean they’re losing their power; the energy and protection

they offered are now gone. They’ve absorbed as much negativity as they could, and the energy has

dispersed.

But the on the top of my spine are black. An abyss, yet they glitter like stars. Granny always said that

most people fear black because they associate it with dark magic which is wrong. It's the intention

behind it that makes magic a source of dark or light. It's the beholder, the one that yields it, that controls

its intention.

However, black to me has always meant protection, a watchful eye. Come to think of it, my arms have

been rebranded multiple times, yet my spine has never. I thought maybe because it's hardly exposed to

the elements. Yet now I wonder what magick she infused in those ones.

Those were the most painful runes she ever did, I could live with the torture of having my arms done

daily if it meant the ones on my back were never done again. My mind takes me back to that day, and I

shudder. Not wanting to remember it. That day I remember cursing Granny’s name and she looked at

me, tears streaking down my face. My hands tied down as my small child body was shoved over a

rock.

“You hate me? That’s ok. I love you too.” she had said. I spat some colorful words at her that day,

words I did not know the true meaning of. Words now I wish I could take back.

“I don’t love you, I hate you. They’re right! You’re nothing but a wicked witch. I hope you die!” I

screamed at her.

Hate has always been a powerful word, the energy it takes to harbor it, is enough to lose your soul too.

Death I learned was never final, a loop, a never-ending life source. But hate would travel with you into

the next life. Bringing on karma.

“Well if you hate me, you must truly never want to get rid of me, therefore you must love me to give me

that sort of power over you!” Grandma quipped, breaking off pieces of aloe vera.

“No, I hate you!” I spat at her, and she laughed.

“It uses the same amount of energy, maybe more. Are you willing to lose yourself by giving me that

power, child? To hate is to consume. You become absorbed by what you hate that it becomes all you

know, so do you hate me or love me enough to carry me into the next life with all that hatred? Is that

what you want, for me to become your karma, a new life lesson?” she questioned, and I remember

being confused.

“Because if you hate me, then why are you giving me such energy? You can be angry, you can be sad,

but don’t stay in that cycle. Let it go. You only hurt yourself by holding on to it.” she said as she

squeezed the aloe vera from the plant into the clay pot.

“And death? You don’t wish death on your enemies, child. Death is a beginning not an end,” she said,

coming over to me; she sits on the rock next to me, and I turned my head to look at her. “It’s never

death, it’s rebirth, to die you must live first, and to be reborn, and gifted life, you must die…” I never

understood her crazy words then, but now I understand them with clarity so deep, I can feel it in my

soul.

“You are angry with me now, child. One day, you’ll see,” she said, slathering the aloe vera down my

spine.

“It burns.” I hiss at her, struggling against my restraints and arching my back.

“Nonsense, pain means you’re alive, worry when you feel none, for that is the in-between.”

“What did I do to you?” I sobbed, wondering what punishment I was receiving this for.

“Nothing; I did this because I love you. One day you’ll realize it is me that always had your back, that

when left with nothing, remember these words child. You have the spine, so use it. It is me that bleeds

power for you. One day you’ll need it because one day you’ll awaken and there is no greater power

than knowing how powerful you are. Until then, I will protect your power.”

“But you said these were for protection?” I whimper, the pain becoming unbearable again, and my eyes

flutter.

“They are, child. One day, you’ll understand, and when you do. You’ll find you’re infinite, just like your

mother. Her sacrifice was your gain. Her blood became your power. We all make sacrifices, and this is

mine to protect you!”

“By burning me?” I cried.

“No, these protect you from the monsters that seek us,” she says, dabbing at the runes she just burned

into my flesh. I cry out, but she ignores me and keeps talking.

“My blood and power. When they turn black, my power protects you, just like your tourmaline stone,

just like the runes on your arms. Only these are different because these are your backup, power that

will awaken with fear. But you need not fear anything, for I’ll always have your back until your power

awakens. For now, we just need to nurture it and let it grow until you can handle it. Until then you have

your runes, and if all else fails you me. Four elements, four chances, and four days before they fade, so

be sure not to waste them.”

“How will I know when I will awaken?” I murmur. My vision is tunneling as the pain I feel steals it.

“You’ll know because with death comes rebirth. Just like the elements, everything is linked. Air helps us

let go, and release. Water cleanses. Earth recharges but with fire we not only cleanse, but we also rise.

We’re reborn, recalibrated, and recharged. Ready for a new cycle, only then will—'' I passed out before

she could finish telling me, yet fire unfortunately I never was one to harness, or water; so granny never

bothered to teach me. So I guess my cleansing days will never come.

“Human! What is taking you so long?” Zeke yells, and I rush to tug a shirt over my head. I pull it down

with one last glance in the mirror.

“Now I know what you mean…” I whisper to her. Knowing the markings on my back are her power, her

own blessing, it explains why after that her power was limited. This explains why she aged faster. And

now I know why; she gave it to me. She had my back. Like she said when all else fails, she’d have my

back.

Grabbing my boots, I walk out of the closet just as Zeke barges in. I sit on the edge of the bed and pull

them on, then I stand.

“Ready?” I ask with a smile before shoving past him and out the door. And once again, she is right,

there is no greater power than knowing how powerful you are. Granny has my back. Now Zeke better

watch his.