Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals!

Chapter 148: 148. The Hunt II

Maisie

I giggled at that, even if I really felt like strangling the life out of him. And when he found my throat and squeezed, hard enough to leave a bruise but not enough to really hurt me, I said in that soft purr he always liked to use when he was mocking me, "Why, husband? You don’t like playing games anymore?"

He brought his lips to my ear. "I’ll kill anyone who touches you, May. I’ll line them up and make a pool out of their blood. You want freedom? I’ll burn your fucking wings."

Anger shot into my blood like adrenaline. Arousal pounded between my legs.

My mind wanted murder. My body had interpreted his words differently and wanted sex. Goddess, I needed to get away from this man.

"Let go of me," I said, struggling against him.

Of course, I was married to a barbarian—barbarians—because the world abruptly twisted ninety degrees as his thick arm locked around my midsection, hoisting me off my feet.

My ribs compressed hard against his side, forcing the remaining air from my lungs in a sharp wheeze. Suddenly, I was dangling sideways like a rolled up sleeping mat.

Thrashing was useless. I was literally being held mid-air, and I cussed profanities at him as he walked back up the stairs, past Jericho, Quinlan and Mercer, who were also dressed in nothing but paint and low hung linen, watching the scenery with wicked amusement.

He kicked the door of his bedroom open, threw me inside, and before I could scramble off the bed, he shut the door and the click of the lock echoed into the empty bedroom.

I slammed into the hard, impenetrable door. "Let me out, you stupid toad!"

A huff of laughter and retreating footsteps were all I got. I slammed my fist into the door and yelped when I nearly broke my wrist.

I glared at the door and the men behind it. Tried to calm myself for the next couple of minutes. Paced back and forth, practicing breathing exercises.

The drumbeats made it so much harder to keep calm. I thought the heightened bloodlust in the air had something to do with it, too. I kept getting the pull in my chest towards the woods.

I wondered what they were doing,

There’s nothing quite like fucking when you’re high on bloodlust.

I growled, pulling at my hair. They wouldn’t do it, would they? I mean, I would feel it down the bond if they did.

But they were all so good at hiding their feelings from me and keeping their walls up that I only got an inkling as to what they felt most times, rather than the entire weight of their emotions.

Tessa offered herself to me.

My breathing exercises failed drastically as my mind conjured up image after image. She thought of it an honor and privilege to be with him. And I supposed Soren wasn’t bad looking.

Neither was he bad at sex.

It was the complete opposite actually. And he was generous. Generous enough to share with his brothers.

I tried to ignore my own dark thoughts. I couldn’t let these traitorous feelings rule me.

But my Lycan’s wild, wicked voice weaving in between the drumbeats. Go, she said, tugging at me. Go see.

By the end of the hour, I could no longer stand it. I followed the drums.

I threw open the tall windows. The drop from this floor was incredibly high, and I almost couldn’t see the ground. Soren probably thought it would discourage me.

As if.

There was no way I was going to stay trapped in here while they had fun.

I took five steps backwards and leaped over the balcony. My clothes ripped as the ground disappeared under me, fur covering my skin. My bones cracked and restructured, and my sleeping Lycan awoke with a thrilling laugh as we landed.

I followed the sound of the drums and soon found myself on the familiar trail that led to the hunting grounds. It was the same place the Red Moon rites had taken place.

I was rounding the corner when I heard hurried footsteps coming my way.

Frightened that I had gotten caught, I ducked behind a stone arch, ignoring my Lycans comment about how delicious flesh tasted once you’re in the right mood.

Yikes.

There were two of them and there was a worrying urgency in their voices.

"She wants it buried," one hissed. "If word gets out before the Hunt begins, there’ll be panic."

"This is madness. If you’re right and they’re already in the woods, every person out there is in danger. We should be calling the Hunt off, not marching everyone straight into it."

"And tell Her Majesty she was wrong? She told me she’d have my tongue nailed to the gates if I breathed a word. She thinks the Hunt will solve the Exile problem for good."

My stomach dropped.

"And if innocent people die?"

"They’re collateral."

The second man swore under his breath. "Goddess... How many are there?"

"I don’t know."

I stayed frozen to the spot until they were gone, mind whirling. Exiles were in the castle. We were under attack. Was that why Soren had asked me to stay in?

Then a different possibility occurred to me. What if they didn’t know? What if there were too many Exiles to fight, with their ash bullets and weapons?

What if they got hurt? Or worse...

Terror clawed up my throat and I was running down the trail before I finished the thought.

I had to warn them.

My paws pounded against the forest floor. The sound of howling echoed farther ahead. Branches whipped at my face and shoulders as I leaped and swung. The drums thundered louder, matching the frantic beat of my heart.

I blinked twice at every shadow in the unfamiliar woods, expecting a rebel to appear. Every rustle made my hackles rise.

I had no idea where I was anymore.

The deeper I ran, the denser the forest became, and half way across, I felt a sharp pain in my chest.

The bond jolted so violently it stole the air from my lungs.

I stumbled, claws gouging trenches into the earth as a flash of fury, bloodlust... and something dangerously close to agony tore through the bond.

"Mercer?" I sent my thoughts down the bond.

Silence.