The Lycan King's Muse

Ep 6: The Curse and The Jump

Lyall walks casually to the small desk next to the table. He opens a crystal bottle and pours strong liquid into two glasses, then offers one to me.

“I don’t take drinks from strangers,” I say. The truth is, I am pregnant. It’ll be months before I can finally take alcohol. Gosh, how I miss vodka. If I am not pregnant now, I would have drunk one entire bottle.

The lycan king shrugs and drinks the two glasses with two gulps. He pours the same liquid into one glass, this time he only holds it while walking closer to me. In response, I step backward.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He stops when I am just two feet away from the window. The same window I used to escape earlier is still wide open. The curtains billow inward because of a fresh afternoon breeze.

“But you’re keeping me as a prisoner.” My jaws tighten. Adrenaline rushes through every fiber of my being. I am ready to run at the first sign of danger.

This lycan king might have saved me, but it doesn’t mean he is my ally. After all, he threatened me before.

Lyall spreads his arms to the entire room. “Look where you are, werewolf girl,” he says, “Would a prisoner be able to sleep in my room?”

“A beautiful cage is still a cage.”

He tilts his head and smirks. “Keep doing that.”

“What?”  

“Making me feel.” He dunks the glass to the brim. Then he sits with a crossed leg on one of the leather sofas, puts his arms leisurely on the sofa, and leans back. He looks at me as if he is enjoying an amusing soap opera. “Go on.”

There’s something about this that I don’t like. It’s like I am still in the dark.

“Am I your personal jokester now?” I sneer.

“You can be, if you want.” He takes out a big cigarette and a lighter from a small wooden box. After lighting it up, he inhales deeply, then exhales the heavy smoke. I step even closer to the window to be closer to the fresh air. The smoke can be dangerous for my baby, but it’s not like I can tell the lycan king to stop smoking, right?

Unexpectedly, he sees me covering my nose and immediately says, “Oh, you can’t stand smoke?”

I blink.

Deciding to play this in my favor, I fan my face then pretend to cough. He moves quickly to put out his cigarette–which looks really expensive and rare, by the way–on the ashtray. Then he settles on the sofa comfortably again.

I blink for the second time.

So… apparently, I can tell the lycan king to stop smoking. Why is he being considerate of me? This doesn’t seem like the same man I saw in the council meeting room.

 “Thank you,” I mumble.

“Tell me about the curse,” I then quickly say. My hands grip the window sill, in case I need to jump and run at any moment. “Tell me why they were so shocked to see you smile.” If I find out he has dragged me into a fishy situation, I will try to run again.

Lyall sighs. “It’s a long story.”

For a long few seconds, he stays quiet. So, I thought he was never going to tell me. But then he rolls his long sleeves on both of his arms.

He has a tanned, toned, and strong arm on one sleeve. On the other arm, however, he has grey-colored, scaly skin spreading from just under his wrist to his shoulder. I can’t see past his biceps because that’s as far as his sleeve can be rolled.

“It’s disgusting, isn’t it?” Lyall stares at me as if he is expecting me to be horrified with his condition.

I once handled a burnt patient who got parts of his face damaged by the fire. That patient asked the same thing.

So, I answer the same, “I’ve seen worse.”

We stare at each other for quite some time. Until he smirks. “There you go again. You create this prickly feeling in my chest. It’s annoying, and I don’t get annoyed. But it’s amusing too… and I rarely get amused. Why are you different, werewolf girl?”

Now that… I don’t know how to respond to that. So, I am changing the topic. “What happened?” I tilt my head to the blackened arm.

“Remember when Albus said I am cursed?”

I nod.

“Well, I am. My evil stepmother cursed me to slowly turn into stone when I had to kill her to save the kingdom from her dark sorcery.” I don’t dare to interrupt him. Then again, my mind is racing with thoughts now. “This is the slow process. It starts from my right shoulder and arm, and it is making my arm feels stiff. The curse is spreading from both ends.”

He quickly takes off his shirt with just one hand, revealing that gorgeous–Damn it, my wolf keeps putting words in my mind about how hot our mate is–body. His left shoulder and chest are just how I saw them in the woods, minus the blood. There is a fading, large, pink scar below his collarbone that almost reaches his heart. I’m glad to see the scar is healing, but with the severity I saw in the woods, I expected the scar to heal slower… even with his healing ability combined with mine. Or perhaps… I have been sleeping far longer than I thought I would.

“Thanks for this, by the way,” he points to that pink scar. “If it wasn’t for you in the woods, I would have died of blood loss.”

“It’s almost completely healed now…” I mutter, “How long have I been asleep?”

“Two days,” he answers. “This scar heals faster because of our mate bond.”

“Oh…” I forgot about that bond for a second.

On his right shoulder, just like he just explained, his skin is greyish-black. And now that I see his full body, I can see that his posture is slightly stiffer on his right side. His right shoulder joint doesn’t move naturally as his left one does when he moves his hand. Like a rusty door hinge.

“Not only this,” Lyall continues to explain, “I am becoming a stone too, emotionally.”

I put two and two in my mind. “Let me guess, you are becoming more expressionless and you can’t feel emotion?”

“Yes.”

“Aah… so that’s why they were surprised to see you smile…” I whisper, “And… this has been going on for years?”

He nods, confirming my theory. When our gazes meet, I only have pity for him. I can’t imagine life without being able to express myself. Emotion is part of what makes us human, what makes us alive. You can’t experience joy when you don’t have emotion. You can’t experience the warmth you feel when someone is lending his shoulders for you to cry on at your lowest moment.  

Emotion is what makes our life colorful. The highs and lows, the light and dark, that make our lives one complete painting.

“Seven years, to be exact,” he says, “And the emotion part goes much faster. I have been feeling numb and dull for five years. People have seen changes in my personality right after I sit on the throne.”

“Does that mean… I was the first person to ever make you smile in years?” My voice is small but I guess the wind from outside carries the words to his sensitive ears.

“You are the first person to ever make me smile, laugh,” he says, “And you make me feel like I should protect you or something, which is weird.” He clicks his tongue, showing his annoyance. “Now you’re making me annoyed because you are standing too close to that window.”

I swear I see him baring his fangs for a sliver of a second. He must have wanted to show his dominance over me and order me to stay away from the window, but thought better of it. Lyall shakes his head and pinches his temple. “But it’s addicting… It’s been so long since I…” he takes a long sigh. His green eyes find mine. “It’s been so long since I can feel anything, and now that I do… I want more.”

“But what do I have to do with this curse?” I tilt my head. My hands are still gripping the windowsill.

“I think if you can manage to return my feelings to me, then this curse,” he gestures with his eyes to his black shoulder, “might disappear, too. Besides, there must be a reason why we both feel the mate bond, right?”

“You’re saying that the bond exists for a purpose?” Somehow, my chest feels like being jabbed. It’s my wolf clawing inside me because she doesn’t like how it sounds; that the mate bond is just functionality and nothing more.

“Yes.” His quick answers make me grip the window sill even more. This time, I have no intention of jumping. I just need to grip something hard.  

“The ultimate result for me to know that my emotion has returned to me, which also means breaking the curse completely, is if I can fall in love. Hence, your mission here, should you choose to accept it in exchange for a life here.”

He continues, “With or without emotion, I am a man of my words. I have given you my word that you can live freely under my protection in this kingdom if you can make me fall in love with you. That will never change.”

“If you choose to not accept it, you can walk free anytime you want.” His voice has grown cold. “But you’ll be on your own.”

I gulp.

“But if I fail to make you feel even for a day, you’ll return me to my pack?” I dare myself to ask.

“Yes.” Still with his cold tone. “I have no use for you if you’re not making me feel something. And why should I sacrifice my lycans for you to stay here?”

This is the first cold attitude I have gotten from him. This is the lycan king I have heard of, far and wide.

He knows I won’t survive on my own as a fertile female werewolf. My daughter might even face a bleaker life than me out there. He thinks I would accept this crazy proposition.

And I think I am even crazier for what I have decided.

How hard can it be to make a lycan king fall in love with you?

The answer would be almost impossible.

That is why... I jump.

I land perfectly in the same spot I did earlier. As my feet pound the ground to start running, I hear a loud, angry howl, from the lycan king’s room.