Unwanted Mate Of The Lycan Kings (by jessica hall)

Chapter 65

Reluctantly, I climb the stairs back to the bedroom quarters while pondering what my chances are of

Zeke letting me sleep in my room since he now knows his mate is alive and out there somewhere.

Managing the stairs proves quite difficult, I feel queasy and anxious and regret not grabbing a bread roll

or something. Now the adrenaline rush of events is over I now feel light-headed as I stumble up the This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

stairs trying to hold what remains of my pants and clutch the long-sleeved shirt closed.

If he won’t let me sleep in my room, maybe he’ll at least let me get some of my clothes. Those thoughts

diminish when I find him waiting for me at his door, his gaze cast down the corridor to Regan who is

just stepping into his room.

When I move closer he pushes his door open, motioning for me to enter and I groan knowing my

chances just went out the window. “I see my brother came to his senses.” Zeke taunts.

I roll my eyes pushing past him and entering his room to find Hunter laying in his crate where Zeke

locks him to stop him from getting to me. The door closes with a bang that makes me jump, I feel like

I’ve walked into a predator's den unarmed looking like a delicious steak to a starved animal.

“You don’t seem happy about Regan’s dismissal of you?” I say nothing, I dismissed him but he can

believe what he wants it changes nothing.

“After the dramatics downstairs I expected you two to be running off into the sunset. Yet he didn’t

bother to say a peep when I told him my plans for us tonight, seemed rather angry actually,” Zeke

presses.

“Glad you enjoyed the show, is it bedtime yet? I rather get tonight over with,” I deadpan.

Zeke chuckles and moves to stand in front of me, his hand grips my wrist holding my shirt closed, he

yanks and my grip doesn’t waiver unfortunately the shirt does when it tears off the fabric I’m clutching.

“I could heal you? But I think we’ve passed the point of niceties.” he laughs while I glare at him. My

breast is throbbing to its own beat and still bleeding, and so are the tracks he carved into my skin

though they’ve mostly healed.

“My you really must have upset him to leave you in this state,” Zeke continues. I sigh moving toward his

closet and grabbing a fresh shirt.

“Are you forgetting something?” he asks.

“What, should I bother asking, or should I say please,” I retort, ripping it off the hanger.

“No, take what you want, but I see no point ruining another shirt when you still have to bathe me.” he

mocks shoving past me and into the bathroom. I glare at his back.

“You have a mate, what’s the point in keeping up with the games,”

“Well, just because you’re of no use to me doesn’t mean I am not going to play by the rules,” he tells

me while twisting the taps to fill the tub. I roll my eyes tossing the shirt aside knowing it will get wet but

grab a pair of pants before moving back to the room. I tug them up while listening to Zeke rummaging

around the bathroom.

“Zirah, grab my towel it should be hanging on the wardrobe door,” he calls out from the bathroom.

I shake my head, but get up to grab it not caring to fight with him. However, when I do I try to figure out

what to do with the vial when I spot his vodka beside the bed, the bottle is half drunk so I assume it's

his current one. Peeking my head into the walk-in closet I see him step into the bath before tiptoeing

back to the bed. I pop the cork top and power it in and give it a shake. I then toss the vial in a drawer

full of paperwork since I can’t find a bin and rush to snatch his towel off the door. Walking into the

bathroom, he sings out again. “Grab my vodka too, I left it on the bedside table,” I groan and he laughs

but little does he know that is exactly what I want him drinking. I smile slyly to myself and snatch it off

before pretending to be angry about having to retrieve it as I walk back in. I hold it out to him and he

takes it sitting beside himself while I sit on the edge of the bath. I hold my hand out for the stupid

washcloth and he clicks his tongue.

“You’re not maid material are you?”

“Neither are you as it appears nor are you man material seeing as a man can wash him, though a little

boy can’t,” I tell him snatching it when he offers it to me but he pulls it back at the last second. I grit my

teeth and reach for it and he offers it only to drop it. It hits the water with a wet plop and falls between

his legs.

“Appears this little boy is clumsy,” he growls. I glare at him and he smirks raising an eyebrow at me.

Pressing my lips in a line I drop my hand beneath the bubbles and water to retrieve it when Zeke grips

my wrist holding it against his crotch. His huge cock brushes my palm when he locks my fingers around

it forcing me to hold it.

“Bet that doesn’t feel fucking little though?” he growls. I jerk my hand but he holds it in place for a

second longer before letting me go. I nearly topple backward only just managing to catch myself before

I fall.

Zeke watches me as I lather it in soap, before reaching for his vodka. He swigs from the bottle and then

coughs frantically making me jump.

“Settle, shit is like rocket fuel, first few mouthfuls always burn, then after that, it's like drinking water.” he

shrugs, tipping the bottle to his lips. He gulps down half the contents like it is indeed water. Only then to

start coughing once again. He chokes, and retches, smacking his chest. “Fuck, where did Malachi get

this shit from,” he coughs.

“Malachi?”

Zeke nods while catching his breath. “Yeah, dad ordered the maids to piss off everything except wine,

though my uncle always has a stash in his room, so I helped myself.”

“Well, might wanna second guess next time, seems you can’t handle a big boy's drink,” I tell him and

he growls.

“Shut up, wash me!” he snaps.

Zeke glares straight ahead determined to drink his vodka, yet no matter how much he drinks he

complains of the burning and how it makes him feel queasy, coughing repeatedly. When he stands to

climb out I avert my gaze, hand him his towel and grip his arm when he nearly trips over the side.

He staggers back to the room, clutching the door frames to hold himself upright, and I suddenly feel

bad for poisoning him. He doesn’t even bother getting changed just snatches up another bottle he pulls

from inside the bedside drawer and gulps it down then stares at the bottle.

“This one tastes fine….” he mumbles then his eyes dart to me. I quickly race back to the closet and pull

one of the long sleeve shirts on and wander back out to find him sitting up making me wonder if there

wasn’t enough in the vial. He pats the bed beside him and I stare at the spot before reluctantly moving

toward it and climbing up. The moment I do, he pounces on me. I shriek trying to shove him when his

claws escape his fingertips and he grips my neck.

“You’ve done something to my drink.” he purrs. “Haven’t you?” I shake my head and his eyes flicker

when he suddenly blinks quickly, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and he slumps over me. His

weight is crushing and I grip his hair, pulling his head up to find him out cold. A devious smile splits

onto my face as I shove him off before climbing out of bed. I tuck him in, pulling the blankets up and

even passed out he begins to sweat from the toxins coursing through his body.

I wait for a while needing to ensure the others don’t come looking for him and also for time to slowly tick

by, my eyes watching the alarm clock on the bedside drawer. When it's nearly time I escape the room

checking the corridor first and ensuring it's clear of guards, Regan, and Lyon. Once I’m sure the coast

is clear, I retrieve the key and get changed into my own clothes ensuring I am wearing extra layers with

how cold the nights can get. Once dressed my heart beats erratically at what I am about to do, this is

my one chance and if I’m caught there will be hell to pay. Putting on some shoes, I move toward my

door and pop my head out. I have ten minutes to get down to the gates and a small window of when

the shifts change with the guards.

Stepping out into the corridor I find the place silent and cold, I quietly sneak to the huge double doors,

opening them just enough for my body to slip through then gently close it. Relief fills me when I realize

the guards that usually wait at the door feel it's not necessary while I’m supposed to be with the kings. I

find it surprisingly easy to escape the castle and make my way down to the maze without being

spotted. However, when it comes to the gates I bide my time, waiting for the time when Shelley

switched off the cameras and for the vamps to change over.

“Fuck, something sweet is in the air tonight,” I hear one say as I hide amongst the shrubs, my brows

pinch and I watch as one vampire man sniffs the air, looking in my direction. Only then do I remember I

am covered in blood from Zeke’s slice-dice torture at dinner? I mentally curse myself squeezing the

jacket I’m wearing closer. I wait for what feels like hours but is only a few minutes before watching the

two guards chatting leave their posts and wander toward the castle.

The moment they’re out of sight, I run for the gates, twisting the key and opening it. My skin crawls and

my breath lodges in my throat when the gate creaks and I slip through. Not wanting to alert anyone I

decide to leave it open, knowing closing it, I would run the risk of them hearing it. With no time to spare

I run for the trees determined not to stop until I physically can’t walk anymore.