Traded To The Lycan King by MG Wattsons

*Kyra* I can feel the weight of Hayes' stare at my back. No matter how much I try to shake it off, it is steady, like a nagging or an itch that I just can't reach or satisfy. It's damn annoying, really. Not a single person says a thing, everyone keeping to themselves as we walk along in silence. It feels weird, like they have been instructed to ignore me.

It's never easy doing something new, going somewhere new. I get it. I am an outsider, someone they don't think they need. But I know the rumors of this crew, why they are here and how they were recruited. And I meet every damn requirement and then some. Whether they wanthere or not, I deserve this chance to avenge Tyler and our baby.

We walk for hours, everyone seemingly knowing where to go before we finally reach a cliff and Dean stops, staring out over the ledge in the moonlight. He looks sadder in the darker, deeper lines of pain and loneliness highlighted by the shadows, and I realize maybe they are silent because they are lost in their mourning. Though, it is more likely that the shell of a beta I once knew is the real source. Lonely people can only stand the silence for so long. We all crave that connection just as much as we hate it. We can't help it. Without it, we sink into the chaotic noise of our heartache and pain. It is so easy to drown in it when there is no one to bring you back to reality.

"We should camp here," Dean says, making his way back to our group of five.

"I'll take the first watch," Hayes says in a grumbling tone that makes my skin goose bump. A flutter skips through my chest and I close my eyes, forcing the feeling away. If I don't acknowledge it, will it just go away? "I'll take the third watch," Dean says.

"You take the second watch, Tracker." Hayes says, a glimmer of indifference on his face as his eyes scanfrom top to bottom and his lip curls in disgust.

"Sure." I say, feigning to not want to slap him.

I remove my bag, walking toward a tree further from the group and the cliff's edge. I lay my bag up against it and lay down, pulling my hood over my head. After Hayes leaves, I watch the others as they chuckle and start a fire. They are suddenly very chatty for a group of people so silent. Perhaps it is because I have removed myself from their immediate vicinity.

But then I look around and realize that maybe it has nothing to do withand more to do with the absence of Hayes. Does everyone avoid talking to him in general or around him? Has he lived like this for the past two years? It had seemed like at least he and Dean were somewhat friendly.

"Hey there," a voice calls out from the group, walking their way over with a mug.

"Hi," I mutter, not removing my hood as the fire grows brighter and flickers across the distance between us.

"I am Marcos." He walks up next to me, taking a seat before he hands over the hot mug. I take it curiously from him, sniffing it as he chuckles.

"It's just tea." He grins, the firelight illuminating the side of his face enough to see he has a pleasant smile. Marcos looks younger than me, though maybe not by much. His dark eyes match his tanned olive skin.

"What kind of tea?" I ask him with a soft smile.

"The kind that is good for the soul." "Ah, so the kind Hayes avoids. Noted." I mutter, and he laughs. His laugh is soft and light. As if he isn't entirely miserable all the time.

"Rumor has it you two know each other well." He says, pulling his knees up to his chest as he wraps his arms around them.

"Knew." I correct him with a snort before taking a hasty sip. The tea stings my tongue in a delightful way as I smile down at the cup. My thumb rubbing over the rim. "We knew each other well, a long tago." "Yeah well, seems like that is everyone's answer these days," He sighs.

"How long have you been in this little group?" I ask him and he looks out at the rest of the others, telling stories at the campfire.

"Since the beginning. Dean is my best friend. His sister was my mate." He says softly, a gentle smile on his lips. "Ah," I mutter, unsure of what to say next. The last thing I should do is ask how she died. We all know how. The real meaning behind that question is 'what's the story' and 'how grueswas it?' That is all people seem to care about. How much more painful their loss was than others.

"She was caught in an avalanche in the north. I just needed two more minutes to get to her, and she only had one minute left in her." He shakes his head. "It's not as gruesas others, but I tend to think pain is pain no matter where it's felt. It feels different for everyone." "I can't imagine Dean handled losing his sister very well." I say softly and he nods.

"About as well as you can when you are mourning for the mate you just met," He responds and I furrow my brows.

"What do you mean by that?" "Dean's mate, he met her as she was dying. The bond snapped into place. He got to hold her, so she wasn't alone, but then she was gone. He never even knew her name." My stomach feels tight, and I exhale a sad sigh.

"Fuck." I shake my head. "I can't tell if that is worse than knowing them or not." "There is no worse when it comes to death," he frowns. "The void is the ssize regardless of how it was put there." I chuckle, my eyes rolling, as I remember Tyler's friend Freddy. Always wise with his words and great at reminding everyone to pull themselves out of their own grief and remember there are others out there living with it, too. Honestly, he remindedso much of the Hayes I used to know.

"You sound like someone I used to know." I whisper, longing for the past briefly.

"Hayes says I sound like a poetry loving fool." He grins.

"What does Hayes know?" I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Poetry is awesome," He grins and then Dean stands up and stretches, his head swinging around before he finds us. His hand rises and he motions for Marcos to cto him. Marcos sighs heavily and stands, brushing himself off before he givesa small wave and jogs the short distance to the others.

It is very clear that Dean is mad at him as he points atand gets closer to Marcos, who puts his hands up in a nonthreatening way. sip my tea, watching the debacle as sleepiness settles in and I find a lying position before I finish myself scooching down.

warm drink and set the c1094 into the aside.

Exhaustion washes overas I drift to sleep, waiting for Hayes to cand wakefor the second shift.

I wake to the sound of hushed arguments, my body filled with exhaustion despite a restful sleep.

"I can smell it," a voice growls in annoyance. "Are you seriously tellingyou can't fucking smell that stench?" I blink my eyes open, shielding them

from the sun that shines through the leaves as they sway in the wind. My limbs feet strange, heavy, as if there are weights on my ankles and wrists. After squirming from side to side, I push myself up, the world spinning as I fall back again, a groan in my throat. "What the hell...?" I murmur to myself.

"See!" The voice is louder, excited sounding. "I told you I could smell it. Wet dog." I force my eyes to focus as I clear them by rubbing my fists into them. My mouth goes dry and my heart leaps into my throat as I slick my lips with my tongue and look up at the massive frof two dragon shifters.

I scan the area for the others and find the fire has been out for stas no smoke can be seen and the pile where it has been was nothing but dry ash How long have these two been nearby and where the fuck did the others go? "Looks like she is alone." The second one says, sauntering over from the fire, where he kicks it and sniffs. "This has been out for at least twelve hours, is my guess." Twelve fucking hours? My eyes

grow wide and my chest aches as my heart tries to break free. Did these assholes seriously Y leave me? And how the fuck did I not hear them when I am a light sleeper? The shorter one scoops up the cup to my right and lifts it to his nose before sticking his tongue in it. Then he looks at the other with a smirk.

"It looks like she was left for us to play with. Maybe someone they left behind to slow us down?" "The hell I was," I snap at them as they laugh at me.

"Left you for dead sounds better to you then?" They tease, and I scowl at them.

"No," I sigh, lifting my heavy arms as I stand and lean on the tree, trying to summon my strength. "They just showedwho I can trust." And it sure as fuck isn't Marcos or Hayes.

"Too bad you won't be able to get revenge on them," they say, moving closer, their eyes glowing red as their chest illuminates. I can feel the heat coming, the way it radiates from their thick skin, and I realize there is only one thing I can do for now. Run.