73Chase rolled his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time in just a few minutes. He didn't know how the hell Brandon did it, but if he was the forced to answer all these dumb ass questions he most likely would have flipped the bird and told the king what he really thought about him- that he was a fucking coward that probably didn't even know how to wipe his own ass, much less give orders to a whole army of Lycanthrope.
But unfortunately, for as long as they were bound by the irremovable cuffs around their arms, they would either obey or suffer crippling pain.
And so Chase obeyed- barely.
"Why is it that you still have not managed to get my ring back from the Origans?"
Because we need to come up with a better plan, dumbass.
"As I have said numerous times, my lord..." his friend and true King started. Chase shook his head in sympathy. He knew how much Brandon hated to defer to these idiots. But coming from a long line of royalty had instilled that he be respectful of other royals. No matter how worthless they were.
Thankfully, Chase didn't have that problem. He had been born poor and respect was garnered through violence, not through family name. Growing up he had hung around with the wrong crowd, made some pretty stupid mistakes, but now he was second in command to a king. A fact he liked to remind those who had doubted him constantly. Conceited? Yea. So what?
He heaved a heavy sigh as he drowned out the voices of the two men. This shit was boring. He hated having to answer to anyone but himself, and being bound to do so made him want to punch something.
Or fuck someone, he amended as he eyed the tasty looking piece of ass standing next to king Fuckface. He knew she was probably one of his concubines, but that didn't take away from her looks. Her clothing was made to be easily removable so that the king could have her anytime, anywhere and as he stared at the short, loose skirt, he wondered if she was wearing any panties.
She uncrossed and recrossed her legs. Nope. No panties.
He looked up at her to find her staring at him invitingly. He could feel the waves of lust coming at him and he smirked at her. It was good to be a Lycan. Females across species were attracted to his animalistic nature and he took full advantage of that.
"And what do you think, Chase?"
The king's whiny voice broke through his dirty thoughts.
"Huh?" he asked, noting how red the king's face was.
"If you would stop staring at my concubine and pay attention to what your king says-"
"You're not my King," Chase retorted. He heard Brandon's sigh of exasperation. Poor guy was probably sick of having to defend his actions and his words, but Chase couldn't change how averse he was to anyone tell him what to do, much less a Sollah, a demon race completely incapable of fighting themselves so they enslaved others to do it for them.
The Sollah's eyes were practically bulging out of his weird looking head. "Careful what you say, wolf, or I will make you regret it."
Chase snorted. "How? By boring me to death? You're doing a pretty good job of that every time you make us come and-"
His words were cut off as he felt a stab of pain in his stomach. He bent over coughing and spit up blood. A low growl emitted from him and he poised to leap over there and rip the fucking bastard's eyes out.
As if he knew what he was thinking, Brandon stepped in front of him to place a hand on his shoulder. To others it might look like he was comforting him, but he knew Brandon wasn't worried about him being hurt. And the crushing grip on his shoulder let him know it. He was probably more worried about Chase killing the king, in turn killing the entire enslaved army.
"Calm the fuck down," Brandon growled. "I don't like this any better than you do but we don't have a choice."
Chase clenched his teeth and gave a sharp nod.
He turned his violent thoughts to the concubine again. She was looking at him with new interest and he couldn't help but notice her stiff nipples beneath the nearly transparent shirt. Damn he wanted some concubines too. Not to have his kids but so that he could fuck them at any time he wanted. Sometimes when they were done with a battle, he still had all that adrenaline running through his body and nothing to do with it. He either had to pick fights with other soldiers or take himself in hand, which he wasn't particularly fond of. His rough hand did not compare to how soft women were, or how wet and hot he could make them.
Without warning, he felt another sharp stab of pain in his stomach. He glared at the king who was glaring back at him.
"Tell your soldier to stop looking at what is mine!" he commanded to Brandon, his voice shrill.
"My lord, he is an unmated Lycan," Brandon responded tightly. "I can no more control his urges than I can control the sun rising."
"Well you're a wolf too and you seem be show restraint."
Chase would have laughed if he hadn't been disgusted by the unmistakable look of admiration in the Sollah king's eyes. Dude was so obviously in love with Brandon and looked for any excuse to bring him down and question him. Chase hated coming down too but he sure as hell wasn't going to let his King and best friend come down here by himself to get molested. The rumors surrounding the Sollah kings sick sexual exploits were enough to make his skin crawl and considering the things he did with his bedmates, that was really saying something.
"I am much older than him. Given time he may grow to better restrain himself... Or not..." he added lowly so only Chase could hear. It was true. Most Lycan learned to control their temper and urges as they grew older, especially if they became mated, but then again, many didn't and Chase guessed he was going to be a member of that group; not the former.
"You are dismissed. Next time you come here," the king said, pointing a thin finger in Chase's direction, "I expect you to be a bit more humble. Or I will make it hurt, wolf."
Chase raised his chin as if in challenge but Brandon took his arm and dragged him away before he could say anything.
Once they were outside Chase flung him off.
"You should've let me off that asshole."
Brandon scrubbed a hand down his face. "Damn it, Chase, if you kill him we all die. Have you not gotten that through your thick skull already?"
"Hey this skull isn't good for just not listening, it's also good for taking hits and helping you win battles so let's fight him already. I'm tired of being this bitch's bitch."
Brandon sighed. "If you weren't such a good fighter he probably would have killed you. He still might if you don't stop acting up in front of him."
Chase shrugged off his friend's concern and started walking towards the city. "I don't bow down to anyone who doesn't truly deserve it. And that guy? I'd rather bow down and pay my respects to an alley rat. At least the rat goes out and does his own dirty work."
Brandon chuckled as he kept up with him. "Did you just call our lord," his voice dripped with disdain at the word, "a rat?"
Chase smiled. "Sure did. And I would have done that and more if you hadn't been there to ruin the party."
"You mean save your ass," Brandon corrected.
"Sure, whatever you wanna call it. But let's stop talking about that idiot. Did you see that concubine he had with him? Damn I wanted to bend her over right in front of him and fuck the shit out of her."
"I know," Brandon said wryly. "I could scent her arousal and yours."
Chase gave a loud laugh. "Did it turn you on? No offense, but I don't swing that way and I don't usually share my females."
Brandon rolled his eyes. "As if I need you to share with me? I get plenty of women on my own."
"Yea but when was the last time you really fucked?" Brandon opened his mouth to reply but Chase interrupted him. "And I don't mean those nice little sessions you have when I see females coming out of your room with happy smiles on their faces. I'm talking about giving it to them so they aren't able to get up from bed for hours and when they do, they're walking funny." At Brandon's silence, Chase gave another loud laugh. "That long, huh?"
Brandon's jaw tightened. "I don't always feel the need to assert my dominance over a female every time I take one to my bed."
Chase shook his head. "And that's why I will never understand how your mind works."
"You really need to find a mate already."
Chase gave him an incredulous look. "Why the hell would I ever want to do that?"
"Because maybe then you'll know what it's like to care about someone other than yourself. Maybe then you'll stop picking fights with everyone else? Although I would feel sorry for the poor female who has to deal with you."
"Exactly. There's isn't a woman alive who can handle me long term." He wiggled his eyebrows as Brandon chuckled.
"You know that's not what I meant."
Chase shrugged. "Yea whatever. Let's stop talking about such serious shit. I know of a good bar nearby, wanna come with me, get wasted, pick some fights, find some females?"
Brandon shook his head. "Can't. I have to go back to the house and come up with a new plan to get into the Origan's compound to get that damn ring back."
"Suit yourself. I'll be back later on, or maybe not. But if there's a battle, let me know right away."
"Do you want a ride?" asked Brandon, as they reached his car.
"Nah, I like walking at night. Exciting shit happens."
"Yea, well, try not to get yourself killed."
"I'll try," Chase said over his shoulder as he walked away. The moon was rising already and he could feel the heat of it just like anyone else could feel the sun. It wasn't full tonight but even that sliver hitting him directly was causing him to be antsy. He needed to find something or someone to do like, now.
Mikayla's fingers clutched at the pole of a bus stop sign before her knees could give out and she had to eat pavement- again.
The pains were getting worse every night and now they were coming more frequently. All bad signs. She had no idea what it meant and that was scaring her. It wasn't like she had ever had health problems before so what was happening?
And why the hell did her aunt bring them from Los Angeles to Chicago without giving her a straight answer?
She closed her eyes as the wave of dizziness refused to pass. Her head felt like it had been filled with cotton and her vision was blurry. She hadn't been able to keep anything down but strangely, she hadn't lost any weight. In fact, she didn't think she had ever looked better.
Whereas in the past she would always struggle with her curly hair, now it was shining and falling in loose curls that framed her face better than any haircut she had ever gotten. Her skin seemed to glow and she could almost swear that the scar that slashed over her right eyebrow since she had been a kid and had fallen off her bike was growing smaller.
Too bad none of the changes were helping her feel any better inside. Aside from changing physically, she was getting... Weirder.
One time, after the pains had started, she had woken up from a very, very hot dream. Not that she hadn't had those kinds of dreams before, but this one had felt so real. She couldn't see the guy's face, but the things he was doing to her body were sublime. She had woken just before she was about to climax and had gone to the bathroom to take a cold shower when she had looked in the mirror. Her eyes were frickin' shining! Her normally dark green eyes were glowing like bright emeralds sparkling in the light.
She hadn't told anyone, because that had just been weird, and she thought maybe it had been her imagination, but there was no denying the other things too. Her hearing was getting much better, and one time when her aunt had thrown a plate at her to catch, Mikayla had actually caught it, her reflexes so fast that she had dropped the plate in shock.
Her aunt didn't seem to worried however, and that was worrying Mikayla. Here she was about to faint from pain and her aunt had just casually suggested a trip to Chicago to see some old friends? Friends Mikayla had never heard about or seen? And her friends had stared at her with satisfaction in their eyes when she had had to excuse herself when the pain got too bad.
Not to mention the horrible necklace her aunt now had her wearing. It was heavy and old looking but her aunt had said with total seriousness that she must never take it off. And since her aunt was never serious about anything, she decided she might pay her heed.
A pained sigh escaped her lips as she looked around her. No one was around, thank God. She didn't think she could deal with another man trying to "help" her by putting his arm around her. She had felt like kneeing them in the balls which was surprising, since she rarely had violent thoughts. Her method of dealing with rude or obnoxious people was to try to talk it out, and if that didn't work, walk away. She refused to waste her time, especially after what her mother had told her as she lay dying.
"Live all your days as if they are your last."
A new pain started in Mikayla's chest, but she knew it had nothing to do with her condition or whatever it was. She missed her mom, plain and simple. After her mom had left her father, a man she hardly remembered, she and Mikayla had moved away from everyone they knew and become very close. Her mother was there when she needed her, and Mikayla tried to return the favor. She had only just met her aunt Elena a few years ago when her mother had finally grown bed ridden. The cancer had sprouted up out of nowhere but she refused treatment, saying it was hopeless.
Mikayla had been mad at the time, furious that her mother wouldn't even try to fight to live. But no matter how much she yelled and pleaded, her mother refused to see any more doctors, growing sicker and sicker each day.
In the end, Mikayla had been glad that her aunt had been there, although it didn't seem as if her mother and her got along too well. She would often find them talking heatedly in low whispers that stopped as soon as they saw her.
But it was her aunt who offered to have her live with her until she got back on her feet, and although it was strange to live with someone she barely knew, it had been a good decision. Sometimes her aunt reminded her of her mom so much she nearly cried, but whereas her mom was a bit paranoid about her going out anywhere by herself, her aunt gave her freedom to do anything she wanted. Except take off the necklace.
Mikayla glanced down at it as she slowly started walking back to their hotel. She hadn't entirely believed that it was a family heirloom, although it certainly looked old. She could feel a strange sense of power emanating from it, which just made her think she was crazy.
Her whole life had turned crazy these past few days, all beginning with when the pains had started and she had no control over it. She liked control, and not being able to control her emotions or what was happening to her was making her miserable.
"What's got you looking so sad, beautiful?"
Mikayla didn't even bother trying to hide her rolling eyes. Great, another guy hitting on her. It seemed as if they were everywhere now, when before she had never gotten this much attention.
"Nothing, I'm just going home," she said shortly, trying to walk around him.
He reached out a hand to grab her arm and smiled at her. Her eyes widened when she spied his pointed canines. They looked like... Fangs?
He must have seen her staring because he closed his mouth and let his eyes wander down her body. Feeling strangely exposed even though she was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, she shivered.
"You'll need someone to guide you," he said lowly as he finally let her hand go.
How does he know I'm not from here? Mikayla wondered. "I can handle myself." She turned away but he was in front of her before she could even gasp. Her eyes narrowed. What the hell?
"What you need is someone to handle you," he rumbled, and Mikayla suddenly realized it had grown dark and she was alone on the street.
She glared at him, refusing to show him how nervous she was. "I don't know what you're talking about, nor do I want to. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm in a hurry." When she tried to walk past him and he grabbed her arm again, she snapped. Giving in to the urge to vent her emotions, she quickly jerked her elbow back into his gut. Before he could recover, she had whirled around and brought her knee up between his legs, her lips curling in satisfaction when he let out a pained yelp.
"You fucking bitch," he sputtered, his eyes blazing.
"Handle your damn self asshole," she shot back, her heart pumping fast. She had never felt like this. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins and she almost wished he would try to touch her again so she could kick his ass.
But he only straightened and nodded. "Very well, we'll see whose suffering soon enough when you're begging for relief."
His words made no sense but Mikayla had a feeling he knew exactly what he was talking about.
Before she could demand he explain himself, he turned and walked away, the darkness swallowing him in seconds.
Whoa. Things were just getting weirder and weirder. She rubbed her head as she felt another wave of pain starting.
And it didn't seem like they were getting better any time soon.In case you're wondering; yes I did make Chase an ass on purpose! And this is the first story I have posted with the intention of it being more than a few chapters long in years... so I'm kinda nervous :/ Should I continue... or scrap the story?