The Lycan King's Rejected Hybrid

Chapter 5: Washed Clean

His lips hovered mere millimeters from the necrotic, blackened bruise over my heart. I held my breath, my hands gripping the edge of the marble counter so hard my knuckles turned white.

Then, he pressed his mouth against the ruined skin.

A gasp tore from my throat. I expected the agonizing burn of a severed bond being touched, but instead, a rush of pure, incandescent heat flooded my chest. It felt like liquid gold pouring into my veins. Where his lips touched, the dark, rotting veins beneath my skin seemed to physically recoil, shrinking back from the overwhelming dominance of his Lycan aura.

He lingered there, his warm breath fanning across the sensitive skin of my collarbone. "The pain will fade, little one," Kaelen murmured against my chest, his voice a low, soothing rumble that made my toes curl. "My wolf will heal what that bastard broke."

He finally pulled back, his emerald eyes blazing with an unholy mix of lust and fury as he took in the rest of my battered body. I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly hyper-aware of how fragile, dirty, and scarred I looked under the bright bathroom lights. I was a patchwork of old bruises from years of being the pack's punching bag, now covered in mud and dried Rogue blood.

"Don't look at me," I whispered, my cheeks burning with shame. "I'm hideous."

A deep, feral growl vibrated in his chest. Before I could process the sound, Kaelen reached out and gently but firmly wrapped his massive hands around my wrists, pulling my arms away from my chest.

"Never hide from me, Elara," he commanded, though the harsh Alpha tone was entirely absent. He looked at my broken body as if I were a priceless artifact he had spent centuries searching for. "You are perfection. And anyone who made you believe otherwise will die screaming."

He turned and twisted the sleek gold handles of the massive sunken tub. Steam instantly billowed into the air as the hot spring water cascaded down.

Without asking for permission, Kaelen scooped me up into his arms again. He stepped right into the tub, completely ignoring the fact that he was still wearing his handmade, obscenely expensive suit pants and dress shirt. The hot water soaked through his clothes instantly, clinging to the hard, carved muscles of his torso.

"You're getting wet," I stammered, my heart hammering against my ribs as he sat me down on the submerged stone bench, lowering himself into the water beside me.

"Good," he said simply, picking up a soft sponge and a bottle of body wash that smelled intoxicatingly like cedar and sea salt. "It makes it easier to focus on you."

For the next half hour, the terrifying Lycan King—the monster who was rumored to bathe in the blood of his enemies—became my servant.

His large, rough hands, heavily calloused from centuries of warfare, were impossibly gentle. He lathered the sponge and methodically washed away the mud from my legs, my arms, and my back. Every time his fingers brushed against my bare skin, a jolt of static electricity snapped between us, making my breath hitch and my newly awakened hybrid blood sing.

As he washed the dried blood from my shoulders, his fingers suddenly stopped.

I glanced back over my shoulder. Kaelen was staring at a set of faint, jagged scars near my shoulder blade—a "gift" from Sienna when I was fifteen, after she pushed me down a flight of stairs and claimed I tripped.

The temperature in the bathroom plummeted. The water around us literally seemed to chill as a murderous aura exploded from him.

"Who gave you this?" he asked, his voice deadly quiet.

"It's an old scar," I whispered, shivering despite the hot water. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters to me," he snarled, his eyes turning pitch black. "Every drop of blood you shed before I found you is a debt I will collect."

He dropped the sponge and leaned in, pressing a tender, lingering kiss directly over the old scar. A violent shiver ripped through my spine, a soft moan escaping my lips before I could bite it back.

Kaelen froze, his pupils dilating massively. He groaned, a guttural, masculine sound of sheer restraint, and abruptly stood up. The water cascaded off his muscular, soaked frame like a Greek god rising from the sea.

He grabbed a massive, fluffy towel from the heated rack and wrapped me in it, cocooning me completely.

"If I stay in this water with you for one more second," he rasped, his voice tight with suppressed desire, "I am going to take you right here against these tiles, broken bond be damned."

My face flushed a deep crimson, my core clenching at the raw hunger in his words.

He carried me out of the bathroom and laid me in the center of a colossal king-sized bed adorned with black silk sheets. The moment my head hit the plush pillows, the absolute exhaustion of the night hit me like a freight train.

"Sleep, my Queen," Kaelen whispered, brushing a damp strand of hair from my forehead. "You are safe now."

I wanted to stay awake, to ask him about the strange, ancient power I had felt in the forest, but my eyelids were too heavy. Wrapped in his intoxicating scent, I fell into the first dreamless, peaceful sleep of my life.

Kaelen’s POV

I watched her chest rise and fall steadily. Even in her sleep, she looked so small, so fragile. Yet, the scent radiating from her—a maddening, intoxicating blend of sweet vanilla and ancient, dark blood—told me she was anything but weak. She was a Hybrid. The first of her kind in a millennia. And she was mine.

I forced myself to pull away from the bed, my wolf whimpering in protest at the loss of proximity. I walked out onto the grand balcony, pulling the heavy glass doors shut behind me to ensure the cold wind wouldn't reach her.

Cyrus was standing in the shadows, waiting. He took one look at my soaked clothes and the murderous look in my eyes and immediately bowed his head.

"Report," I commanded, my voice devoid of the warmth I had just shown my mate.

"My King, our border patrols intercepted a transmission," Cyrus said, his voice tense. "Alpha Kane of the Dark Moon Pack has deployed half his elite warriors. They are searching the perimeter of the Dark Forest."

I let out a dark, menacing laugh that made Cyrus flinch.

That arrogant, blind pup. He threw away a diamond, and now that the bond was broken, his pathetic wolf must have finally realized the magnitude of what he had lost. He was looking for her.

"Shall I send the Vanguard to wipe them out, Sire?" Cyrus asked, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade.

"No," I said coldly, leaning against the stone balustrade, my eyes fixed on the distant, dark horizon. "Killing him now would be too much of a mercy. I want him to realize what he threw away. I want him to watch her rise as the most powerful creature in this world."

I turned to Cyrus, my emerald eyes glowing in the dark.

"Double the guards around the castle. And send a message to the Dark Moon border," I ordered, a cruel smirk playing on my lips. "If a single wolf from Kane's pack steps one foot into my territory... mount their heads on spikes facing his packhouse."

"Yes, my King."

I dismissed him with a wave of my hand and turned back to look through the glass doors at the sleeping girl in my bed.

Kane thought he could break her. But he only managed to deliver her straight into the arms of a monster who would gladly burn the world to keep her warm.

Let them come,I thought, my fangs elongating as I watched her breathe. I'm in the mood for a slaughter.