CLAIMED BY THE MAD LYCAN

CHAPTER 3

KAIDEN

I glared at her, realizing for perhaps the first time just how beautiful she was. She had long brown hair, a small pointy nose and lips so thin and innocent it drove me crazy thinking of my plans with her. Her eyes were large and brown. She was wearing makeup last night, so my gaze didn’t linger on her too much because I hated it. But even now, she still looked so insanely pretty without the make-up.

I searched her eyes as she looked at me, her strong heart-beats sounding in my ears. I knew she was scared as hell. It was obvious with the way she spoke with the maids about me, and refusing to come downstairs. Still I thought I saw something else in her eyes… some sort of excitement? Admiration? Attraction?

Knowing how good I look myself, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was as stricken with my handsomeness as she was with fear of me.

“I… it can’t be…” she mouthed.

I furrowed my brows, confused. And the maids suddenly returned.

There were five now. Three of them had trays of fruits and food on their hand, while the other two carried a dining table.

They all arranged the food on the table and bowed. I nodded, and they all trotted out and closed the door.

The werewolf bride still had her eyes on me. She didn’t move her gaze the whole time. I stood from the bed, and watched her flinch.

Chuckling, I took a chair and sat behind the dining table. Another chair was on the other side.

“Sit.”

She nodded, her expression unyielding. “You don’t feel it?”

I was taken aback by the question. “Feel it”? What could I possibly feel for her?

“Sit. Now.” I repeated, patience already running out.

Slowly, she moved forward and sat on the chair, her gaze avoiding mine. She picked an apple, and bit into it, and continued that way until she was done. It was only after she finished eating that she looked at her hands and her eyes widened.

I fought to control my amusement. Obviously she was hungry since she hadn't eaten since last night. But also, I knew she didn’t do that intentionally.

Her eyes met mine, and she quickly looked away.

I couldn’t help but imagine what she thought of me. I expected she would’ve started asking questions by now. I must admit I’m very surprised she’s this composed and agreed to take a bath and even eat. I had imagined her as a maniac who’d think she was too smart and try to escape. Maybe through the windows.

She could shift. Maybe she’ll do that and try to jump the windows to one of the trees.

I reached out for a strawberry from her fruit tray and coincidentally brushed her arms. I watched blood travel through her cheeks and face, and suddenly she was sweating.

As I put the strawberry in my mouth, she started to speak. “Well I—I’m not sure exactly why I’m here? But I’m guessing it’s because you know.”

“Know what?” This was getting less exciting as the moment passed. This wasn’t how I imagined our first encounter would be.

“That I’m your mate?” She responded; still not meeting my eyes, her tone barely audible.

Mate? My heart paused. No, it couldn’t be. I don’t believe in such things. I’m a damn Lycan, and I can’t fall prey to nonsense like destiny or fate. But why did my pulse quicken at the thought of her, and why was my stomach twisting with something unrecognizable? I quickly shook the thought away. This was not part of the plan.

Standing up, I walked to her chair, and she started to get up as I neared her. I pushed her to sit back on the chair, and placed my left hand on her chair’s head and my right on the table, so she couldn’t attempt to stand up again.

“Me being your mate. What exactly does that mean?”

I watched her composure melt at the close contact of our faces. Her gaze went to the ground. “I—I was just saying. It doesn’t mean anything. Why did you bring me here? What do you want from me?”

I knew she was lying because I could hear her heartbeat. The thing she said about being my mate was true. In the Lycan world, they weren't things such as “soul-mates” or “mates”. I knew a lot about the werewolf world, and knew what me being her “mate” implied, but I knew it was stupid because how could that be possible?

“It doesn’t mean anything, eh?” I asked, and to my biggest surprise, she suddenly raised her head and kissed me.

I pushed away from her immediately, and felt the color of my eyes change.

Her mouth was wide agape, and I saw she was shaking as she stared at me, shock and horror in her expression.

I struggled to control myself and refrain from the sudden urge to lick my lips. My hands balled into a fist, and a sudden rage crawled on my body. I felt disgusted and confused at the same time.

“What did you do that for?” I yelled.

She flinched and fell from her chair, then began crawling on her bottom, her face to me.

I could smell the fear and confusion from her, and it looked like she also didn’t know why she kissed me.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to kiss you. I—I swear I didn’t.”

“Then why?” I started to move towards her, my head trying to reconsider if she would be of any use at all. Because she appeared very crazy in the head to me.

“D—don’t come any closer!”

I stopped in my tracks. The high-tempo of her heartbeat confirmed just how petrified she was, so I didn’t make an attempt to get any closer—lest she passes-out and my plans fails even before it starts.

I dragged one of the chairs and sat down, and folded my hands to my chest. She was still on the floor, and I could reach her with less than five steps.

“Your mate rejected you.”

I watched shock cross her eyes, and a new emotion settled on her expression.

Pain.

Still she stayed quiet.

“Akira”, was that it?”

She winced at the mention of her name. One thing she didn’t know was I knew her more than she might know herself.

“You were forced into a marriage. And based on my encounter with the groom, I knew he was no good. I saved you from it. You’re trying to repay me with a disgusting kiss and talk that I’m your mate? Do you have PTSD from the rejection?”

“I didn’t ask you to save me!” She retorted, tears starting to pour down her eyes. “You could have left me there. Then I wouldn’t have had to meet you. I wouldn’t have had to know you exist. I would never have given you that “disgusting kiss” had you let me be!”

“Okay. You’re right. I should’ve left you with him. It’s not too late, though. I’ll send you to him when I’m done. Sorry it has to be later. You’ve to be alive for my plans to work.”

I saw her mouth open, and close again immediately. She started to get up from the floor but fell back down, and her tears returned.

“H—he’s dead? You killed him?” She stammered.

Somehow I knew she wasn’t crying because that bastard was dead. I heard their conversations and knew she didn’t like him. She was crying because of her shock and wondering what other things I could do—and would do.