Queen of the Lycan Karina Espinosa (classic books for 10 year olds .txt) 📖

still intact. He gripped my neck again and lifted me higher so we were eye to eye, my toes barely grazing the floor, my neck straining as he held me aloft by my face.

“You give up so easily, little wolf,” he whispered close to my face. “Why are you so willing to die for these people?”

“Why are you so willing to kill for them?” I repeated back to him.

“Because they’re mine,” he growled possessively.

“No,” I refuted, gritting my words out through my clenched jaw. “They’re not property. They will never respect you. You’ve probably been given everything all your life. Lucky you. But respect is earned; it’s fought for. You’ll never get what you want. Not like this.”

Fenrir must have been getting tired of me and my mouth, because he dropped me to the floor where I collapsed in a boneless heap. I gulped in a huge breath and laid on the floor in a daze, peering up at the wolf god, Fenrir standing over me. Slowly, I dragged myself to my feet on wobbly knees and stood before him.

My energy was depleted to the point where I could hardly hold myself up, but I stared him straight in the eye without flinching. In one swift motion, I swiped my claws across his throat and screamed out my hatred, expending every ounce of power I had left in reserve. Blood gushed everywhere in a wide, red curtain and Fenrir clutched his neck, his eyes widening in surprise. Stumbling back, he coughed up blood as Raven rushed toward him.

Bash caught me just as I fell backward and gently held me upright. The room was tense, the mood somber; everyone was unsure what to do or what exactly just happened.

Until laughter rang out through the ballroom.

I weakly lifted my head to look over at Fenrir, who was leaning on Raven and laughing hysterically as he clutched his crimson neck.

I frowned, unable to comprehend what was going on.

That blow should have killed him! Unless I’m right and he can’t die.

“You’re a fighter, little wolf.” Fenrir coughed into his hand. “I’ll enjoy this.” With that, he turned with Raven supporting one side and started to leave the ballroom, the rest of the Valkyries falling in line behind them.

Liam approached me hesitantly with two other guards, doing a quick bow before asking, “Yer Majesty, what do ye want us to do? Go after them?”

I had about as much fortitude right then as a wet noodle in Bash’s arms and could barely keep my eyes open. I heard Liam’s question, but everything registered so slowly in my brain, it took me a moment to respond.

I tried to lift a hand but find that I couldn’t. “No.” I shook my head. “Don’t. Let them leave,” I muttered.

Liam bowed. “Yes, Yer Majesty.”

He turned and walked away and I was left to face my people, unsure what to do. Luckily, I didn’t need to worry about it for too long. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I collapsed in Bash’s arms.

Everything went dark.

7

The pungent smell of lavender was the first thing I noticed as I stirred awake. I slowly fluttered my eyes open, looking straight at the ceiling. The room was dim, lit only by a small lamp on a nightstand beside the bed where I laid. I was on my back, wrapped like a burrito in blankets that were soft and warm. Maybe a little too warm.

I turned my head to the side and noticed the box Lucian had given me that contained Adaline’s journal was sitting on the nightstand. Bash was seated on one of the armchairs from the sitting area that he pulled up beside the bed. He was fast asleep, his head tilted back. His suit jacket was off and the once perfectly-tied bow tie was undone and hanging off his neck, dangling along the unbuttoned buttons at the top of his white shirt.

Peeking under the covers, I saw I was no longer wearing my torn red dress, but in pajamas. Some very nice, silk-striped pajama pants and a buttoned-up shirt. Fancy.

With a groan, I sat up slightly and leaned back against the plush headboard, then reached over to tap Bash’s knee. He jerked awake and automatically reached for my hand.

“Mackenzie!” He cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “What happened?”

Bash squeezed my hand. “You overexerted yourself and, well … with the extent of your injuries … you collapsed. The doc stitched you up, but he said it would be best if you went for a run as soon as possible.”

My hand moved instinctively to my chest where Fenrir’s clawed hand had been lodged, but all I felt was a mound of stitches. It would be yet another scar, if I didn’t shift.

“Alexander … is he okay?” I asked urgently.

“He’s fine. Everyone is okay. Fenrir and his small army left without causing any more problems.”

If only his words could put me at ease. Instead, it had the opposite effect. It meant they were planning something. Whatever it was, it was big. Fenrir didn’t get what he wanted tonight, which was to kill me. Why didn’t he?

“What are you thinking, Mackenzie?” Bash asked as he brushed a few strands of hair away from my face. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

I shook my head and looked down at my hands, defeated. “I can’t win against him, Bash,” I mumbled. “It’s impossible. He can’t die.”

“Look at me.” His voice was stern, brooking no argument. I peered up at him and fought the tears that threatened to fall. “No one is truly immortal. Everyone dies eventually. We just need to find out how to speed up Fenrir’s death. He must have a weakness.”

I sighed. “We’ve shown all our cards, while he hasn’t shown a single one,” I muttered, mainly to myself.

Bash grinned. “Then let’s make him show his cards.”

If only it could be that easy.

The first thing I did as soon as day broke was shift and go for