The Lycan King's Captive by Amy Pennza

Author:Amy Pennza [Pennza, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scribble Pretty Books
Published: 2023-01-16T18:30:00+00:00

13

ABBY

I really, really wanted some clothes. Preferably my own clothes. I didn’t own anything extravagant, but I would have killed for a pair of my worn out jeans and a soft hoodie.

Instead, I was swaddled in a robe in the corner of the sofa in my suite. It was beautiful, but none of it belonged to me. Not the plush furniture. Not the crystal chandelier. Not the comfortable bed where I’d slept for half the day. Not the glass shower where I’d washed the last traces of the basement and the cabin from my body.

I didn’t even have my own underwear—or any underwear. And while the robe covered everything I wanted covered, it left me feeling…vulnerable. One yank on the belt and I’d be naked. Cyrus had said nudity wasn’t a problem for shifters, but it was still a problem for me. If I ever got out of this mess, I was splurging on a new wardrobe.

If. Wasn’t that the operative word for my life now? If I got out. If I survived. If Cyrus ever bothered to speak to me again.

Because it had been hours and so far he was MIA. Maybe he had a lengthy list of king-related tasks to attend to, but I couldn’t help feeling like I should have ranked a little closer to the top. I’d helped him escape, after all. We’d forged a bond in that basement.

At least I thought we had.

But at the first opportunity, he’d dumped me on his steward and tucked me in a bedroom.

My stomach growled.

Great. Now I was naked and hungry.

A soft knock interrupted my internal whining. I was so desperate for human contact, I rushed to the door and threw it open without thinking. And I’d expected Cyrus, so I was shocked to see the beautiful blond woman from earlier standing on the threshold.

If possible, she was even more gorgeous than she’d been this morning. She was dressed in slim-fitting jeans and a tight blue sweater that matched her sapphire eyes. Her black stilettos looked sharp enough to double as weapons, and her makeup was flawless. She was a perfect doll.

And I was a bedraggled veterinarian in a borrowed bathrobe.

“Hi,” she said, offering a shy smile. And if she was acting, she was awfully good at it. Pink entered her cheeks, and she looked down as she spoke in demure tones. “I’m Celeste…Cyrus’s consort.”

My world collapsed under me. For a moment, I gaped at her, unable to string words together. When they finally came, they emerged from a throat gone painfully tight. “Cyrus is married?”

“Oh no, no.” She shook her head, and the pink deepened. “No, it’s not like that. Cyrus and I aren’t married. I was pledged to him as a child, but then my parents died and I came to live here. We grew up together, and by the time we were supposed to marry we couldn’t do it. I love him like a brother.” She shook her head again, and she seemed to wince a little this time.

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