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 currently pregnant, I would drink 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 windowsill, 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 by his condition.

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