Chosen

I stared, wide-eyed and breathless, my mouth slightly agape at the towering man standing just across the room. He was the very same man I had shared my heat with three years ago. My mind screamed that I had to be mistaken, that my panicked imagination was playing cruel tricks on me, but my body recognized the truth instantly. My skin seemed to burn at the memory of those strong, dominant hands caressing me, and my chest throbbed, remembering how his plush, demanding lips had spent hours leaving dark marks across my collarbones and breasts. It was him. There was no denying it. The Lycan King.

Immediately, a violent wave of panic seized me. I turned away, shrinking backward and curling myself as close to Nadia as possible. I desperately tried to use her voluptuous, striking figure to hide myself from his line of sight. She was beautiful, curvaceous, and impossible to overlook. Next to her, I felt completely plain, like a sack of potatoes, and for once, I was deeply grateful for it.

"Tell me when he's gone," I breathed, my voice shaking as I buried my face near her shoulder.

Nadia glanced down at me, her brow furrowing with genuine curiosity. "He's not looking this way anymore," she muttered.

I exhaled a long, shaky breath, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart.

"Do you not want to be chosen?" Nadia asked me quietly, her eyes drifting back to the center of the room. "Now that I've actually seen him up close... God, he is so incredibly handsome."

"I don't care how handsome King Roman is," I hissed back, keeping my head lowered. "I don't want any part of this. I would rather just go home."

Nadia nodded in understanding, though as I watched her, I could see the dazed, starstruck wonder in her eyes as she stared at Roman. I couldn't blame her. In a room full of terrified women, finding out the Lycan King wasn't some decrepit, monstrous old man but a devastatingly beautiful predator was a small mercy.

"He's coming closer," Nadia muttered urgently, immediately straightening her posture. She arched her back, tilting her chin up and throwing her chest forward, emphasizing her already voluptuous breasts.

I had always thought my own curves were adequate, but compared to Nadia, I felt like a skinny lamppost.

Turning slightly, I risked a glance to watch the King as he neared us. Heavens above, he was even more handsome up close. My memories of our night together were a hazy blur. Though I was certain he was the man, I had only remembered shadows, not the full, striking detail of his gorgeous face.

That tall, powerfully built body, though, I remembered with terrifying clarity. Shifting muscles, strong thighs, and an overwhelming predatory presence.

He had pressed his heavy hands against my arms, dragging them over my head and pinning me to the mattress.

"Don't move," he had growled in my ear, his voice a low, dark vibration.

Now, a cold chill ran down my spine, remembering the dark timber of his voice.

Just as quickly as they arrived, I shook the thoughts away. I had to pull myself together. I was not here for sex, despite the premise of being selected for the King's harem. My singular purpose was to protect Declan and my pack from danger.

Declan. The man I loved, the man I would never hold again.

My chest ached with a dull, heavy pain. How close we had been to lasting, and I hadn't even realized it until it was already too late. I wished he had confided in me. So much heartache could have been avoided.

Though perhaps it was for the best that things worked out as they did. If I had known Declan loved me for longer, our parting would have been even more difficult. Maybe I would have been too selfish to make the choice I did. I might have even run away with him.

The King might have eventually found us, but for a time, we would have been happy.

The King...

I looked at him again, a touch of hatred flickering to life in my heart. All of my bad luck, all of my problems, had started that night three years ago when I shared my heat with this man. I had no desire to interact with him ever again.

He approached our line. Nadia lowered her gaze, adopting a perfectly demure expression. From beside her, I snuck a few glances, watching Roman trace his cold, blue eyes over Nadia's curvaceous figure.

"This one is acceptable," the King said, his voice a deep, sexy rumble. My body reacted instantly, heating without my consent, a flush of warmth spreading rapidly through my veins.

Roman tilted his gaze to me. Swiftly, his eyes swept down the length of my body. Just as quickly, he looked away. He didn't say a single word as he continued forward, walking down the line for category B toward the stage.

Guards stepped closer to collect Nadia. "With us," they commanded her.

She glanced at me. "I hope we meet again," she said softly before she turned and followed them out of the room.

Near the doorway, I spotted the guard who had harassed Nadia earlier. He was watching the scene with clear disgust. When his gaze flickered to me, I immediately look away.

Roman selected a few more girls in the B-line, and then moved up the A-line, selecting several more. He didn't even glance at the C's. At the stage, he said something to his Beta, Jaxon, and then walked entirely out of the room.

The minute he stepped out, nearly everyone exhaled a deep breath. For a moment, the thick tension broke, and relief replaced it.

Had the King made all of his decisions? Were the rest of us free to go back home now? Could I return to Declan and, after waiting out the next two weeks, become Luna of the pack?

Excitement coiled within me. Perhaps my luck was about to change after all.

"You," a harsh voice snapped from behind me.

I froze, a cold dread instantly replacing my short-lived hope. I turned and saw the guard who had grabbed Nadia earlier. He had his heavy black gun in his hand, the barrel pointed directly at my chest. "Come with me."

"The king didn't select me," I said, holding my hands up slightly.

The guard just smirked, a vicious, sharp thing that twisted his face into a terrifying mask. "That makes you ripe for the plucking, heroine. You stepped in and ruined my fun earlier. Now I get my fun out of you." That smirk slipped, revealing the flash of raw anger underneath. "Come with me. Now."

I looked around desperately for support, but all those who were close enough to have heard him were avoiding my gaze. I was standing in a sea of people, but I had never felt so utterly alone.

"I won't ask again," he snapped, his eyes flashing with malice.

Reaching out, he gripped my wrist in a bruising, iron-tight hold and dragged me with him. He pulled me toward a side room that I hadn't seen anyone use. He kicked the heavy door open, then threw me inside.

I stumbled, crashing into a stack of heavy wooden boxes. It was a dark, dusty storage closet, filled with boxes and wooden shelves, but no people.

He placed his gun down on a stack of boxes near the door. Even without it, his massive, broad-shouldered frame completely blocked the only exit. I glanced around desperately, but there were no other doors or windows. I was totally trapped.

"Take your clothes off," he ordered, his eyes raking over me with sickening lust.

Wrapping my arms tightly over my chest, I shook my head, backing up until my spine hit the cold shelf. "No."

"I know you aren't a virgin, bitch. Take your clothes off like a good little slut, before I make you go to your knees." He grinned, a sickening look in his eyes. "Or maybe that's what you want. You desperate for a good face fucking, slut? You want to suck my cock?"

"Fuck you!" I shouted.

His grin disappeared instantly. "Don't talk back," he growled as he stormed toward me.

As I tried to turn away, he grabbed me roughly by the shoulder. His fingers dug into the fabric, grabbing my shirt in a fist. With a brutal pull, he tore the sleeve and much of the front of my shirt completely off, exposing my skin to the cold air.

Crowding his massive body into mine, he shouted, "On your knees!"

"No!" I screamed, thrashing wildly.

I tried to back up, but he grabbed both of my arms, pinning them to my sides. He started to pull me down. He was much stronger than me, and I couldn't break his grip.

Then, suddenly, he stopped.

His eyes widened, bulging out of his head. His lips parted, and a thick stream of dark blood dribbled from his mouth.

Looking down, my breath caught. I saw the sharp, silver bladed edge of a sword sticking straight out of his ribcage.

With a brutal, upward slice, the sword tore through his flesh. A hot, heavy spray of blood splashed all over me and my torn clothes, coating my skin in crimson.

The guard's lifeless body fell in a heap onto the dusty floor.

Standing directly behind him, gripping the hilt of the bloodied sword, was King Roman.

I shook with absolute shock and fear, my heart stopping as I stared at the carnage.

Roman glared at me. "For three years, I've been looking for you. And for our child."

Our... what?