Page 56 of Lycan’s Hunt

Chapter 25

• King Soren •

“You will tell me where my fiancée is,” I hiss with venom. “And if you refuse…” A slow, cruel smile spreads across my face. “I will make you beg for the mercy of death.” I step forward, my gaze unwavering. I can feel my power radiating through my body, and I can feel the terror radiating from the man in front of me.

I release my grip on Kyle’s throat, and he collapses to the floor, gasping for air. Slowly, deliberately, I shrug off my jacket, letting it fall carelessly onto a nearby chair. I unclasp my cufflinks, rolling up the sleeves of my shirt with measured patience while fighting the urge to rip the man to shreds. Kyle’s eyes widen in sheer panic, and he scrambles backward, trying to put distance between us. “Please, don’t—I don’t know anything!” he stammers, his voice trembling with fear. I crouch down beside him, my voice a low, menacing whisper. “Good,” I say, flexing my fingers as if ready to demonstrate just how easily I can snap his bones with my bare hands.

Kyle’s eyes dart frantically to the door, his body coiled tight with the desperate hope of escape. I crack my neck, the sound echoing through the room. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be, Kyle,” I murmur, with clear menace. “I don’t have time for games, and you don’t have the luxury of hesitation.” His breath hitches, and he shakes his head, still clinging to silence. “I see,” I say, my voice a chilling calm. “Then let’s see just how long you can hold out.” I rise.

“Do you know why Lycans are superior to werewolves?” I ask, my voice deceptively calm.

Kyle lunges for the door, his fists pounding against the unyielding wood, which jolts but doesn’t open since Damian, I know, is holding it closed. My claws slip from my fingertips, glinting in the dim light. The primal urge to hunt, to tear, to kill surges through my veins.

“Lycans are the pinnacle of evolution,” I say, stalking toward him with the grace of a predator. “We are faster, stronger, more resilient. Our senses are unparalleled, our healing abilities beyond compare.” I pause, letting that sink in as Kyle’s fear blossoms into an almost tangible haze. “You see, Kyle, we are not just beasts of instinct; we are the perfect blend of man and predator.”

I drag my claws along the wall. The grating sound causes Kyle to spin, his teeth gritting as he tries to bleed into the wall as if that will save him from me. The acrid scent of fear and desperation taints the air, and I breathe it.

“And you…” I sneer, my lips curling back to reveal gleaming fangs. “You’re nothing, just a mutt. A weak, sniveling creature unworthy of even being in my presence.” I move closer to him, relishing his stinking fear as it grows stronger in the suffocating space.

It has him turning for the door once more. Kyle’s fists continue to hammer against the door, his pleas growing more frantic with each passing second. “Please! Someone, anyone, help me!” His cries for help go unanswered as the door remains closed. His fear soon turns to despair, and he presses his face into the wooden door, sobbing and trembling.

A low, menacing growl rumbles from deep within my chest. Kyle freezes, his breath caught in his throat. I close the distance between us, my shadow looming over his cowering form facing the door; he freezes, my aura smothering him; he doesn’t dare turn around.

“And you’re about to learn what happens when you anger a Lycan King,” I promise, my voice a dark whisper against his ear. “I will break you, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but the shattered remnants of your miserable pelt.”

Kyle whimpers, his body wracked with uncontrollable tremors. The scent of his terror is intoxicating, a heady perfume that fills my nostrils and ignites the beast within and I grab him, spinning him to face me, his eyes widen and go to my elongated teeth.

“I will make you suffer in ways you never thought possible,” I continue, my claws tracing the delicate skin of his face. “And when I’m finished, when you’re nothing more than a broken husk, begging for death...”

I lean in close, my fangs grazing the shell of his ear.

“I will deny you even that small mercy unless…”

I seize Kyle by the throat, my fingers tightening like a vice grip as I hoist him off the ground. His feet dangle uselessly, his hands clawing at my arm in a futile attempt to break free.

“You tell me where my fiancée is,” I snarl, my face mere inches from his. “Tell me, and I’ll make your death quick.”

Kyle’s eyes bulge, his face turning a sickly shade of purple as he gasps for air. A dark stain spreads across the front of his pants, the acrid stench of urine filling the room.

“The… the docks,” he chokes out, his voice barely above a whisper. “Aubrey, she’s at the docks.”

A surge of relief courses through my veins at knowing where to find her, yet it’s tempered only by the all-consuming rage that still burns within me. I release my grip, and Kyle crumples to the ground, his body wracked with violent coughs as he struggles to breath.

I’m not finished with him yet, though.

With a roar of fury, I seize him by the collar and hurl him across the room. His body slams against the wall with a sickening crunch, the wall creaking, and he slides to the floor in a boneless heap.

I stalk toward him, my footsteps heavy and deliberate. Kyle’s eyes widen in terror as he sees me approach, and he scrambles backward, his hands scrabbling uselessly against the rough floor while blood pours from his head where it hit.

“You… you promised,” he whimpers, his voice trembling with fear. “You said you’d make it quick.”

A harsh laugh tears from my throat, cold and brittle. “I lied.”

My fist connects with his face with a satisfying crack, and Kyle’s head snaps back, blood spraying from his shattered nose. He howls in agony, his hands flying up to cradle his ruined face.

I’m just getting started.

I seize Kyle by the throat, my claws digging into his flesh as I lift him off the ground. His feet kick feebly, his hands clawing at my wrist in a futile attempt to break free.