Finn's POV
The next morning, when I woke up, I found myself with iron chains on my hands, feet, and neck, and a bite stopper clamped tight across my face. My body ached like it was splintering apart, every muscle screaming from the night before. I couldn't even lift my head from the cold stone floor, but as the memory of Lycidas' hands, his growls, his relentless hunger flooded back, a slow, satisfied smile curled my lips. The pain was worth it. The chains, the bruises - they were just proof of how well I played the game.
The door creaked open then, and footsteps echoed through the room. They weren't the steady, arrogant strides of Lycidas, but a chaotic stumble, like someone rushing in a panic. A pair of rough hands hauled me up from the ground, and I recognized the voice before I even saw his face.
"Master…" Kairo's tone was thick with urgency, his broad chest heaving as he pulled me against him. His heart thudded fast under my cheek, and for a moment, I let myself sink into the solid warmth of him. It was almost comforting - almost.
"Kairo," I thought, my mind sluggish but sharpening. "How the hell did he get here?" I didn't ask it aloud, not yet. Instead, I let him fuss, his big hands tearing at the iron chains with a desperation that made me want to laugh. He ripped the bite stopper off my face next, and I sucked in a breath, flexing my jaw as the soreness throbbed.
"Master… you…" His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with something raw - pain, anger, maybe both. I knew that look too well. The stupid bastard was in love with me, or thought he was. It was pitiful, really.
"What are you doing here?" I rasped, my voice rough from the night. "Where's His Highness?"
Kairo's arms tightened around me, like he could shield me from something. "He's already left. He told me to take you away from here, Master."
I shoved him off, breaking free of his grip, and staggered to my feet. "You shouldn't be here," I snapped, brushing past him to collapse onto the sagging sofa nearby. My clothes were strewn across the floor, and I yanked them on with lazy, deliberate movements, ignoring the way my body protested.
"Master, what did he do to you?" Kairo's voice trembled as he stepped closer. "Did he hurt you?"
I smirked, tying my pants with a flourish. "No one hurt me." The lie came easy, smooth as silk. Hurt was just part of the deal - currency I paid willingly.
Kairo dropped to one knee beside me, his face twisted with anguish. "Master, why do you treat yourself like this? He never loved you. He just treated you as..."
"A tool for venting sexual desire," I cut in, my tone sharp and mocking. "A fucking toy to toss aside when he's done, a shameless male whore who grovels without a spine. Yeah, I know. That's exactly what I want."
His anger melted into confusion, those wide, dumb eyes searching mine for something I'd never give him. I reached out, trailing my fingers along his cheek, down the hard planes of his chest, letting my hand wander lower until his breath hitched. His chest rose and fell faster, helpless under my touch. Poor Kairo - he never stood a chance.
I leaned in close, my lips brushing his ear as I whispered, "If you want to stay by my side, you'd better treat me like he does. I'd be grateful, you know. His Highness can't always be around to keep me entertained."
I pulled back, standing with a stretch, and sauntered toward the door. Behind me, Kairo's fist slammed into the ground, a muffled growl of frustration escaping him. I didn't look back - he'd follow. He always did.
"Alpha," he called, catching up as I stepped into the dim morning light. "A rogue showed up outside the Slave Market today. We checked his chip - Project Z, number 7935."
Darren. I didn't say it aloud, but the name burned in my mind. That useless fool. I'd tried to salvage him once, stuffing my brother Lester's memories into his thick skull, boosting his body with enhancements. All for nothing. He'd failed again, too busy chasing skirts to care about the mission. Love was a weak man's drug - revenge tasted so much sweeter.
Kairo kept talking, oblivious to my thoughts. "He's in custody now. His vitals are unstable, violent mutated form. Should we sedate him?"
"No point wasting tranquilizers on trash," I said, waving a hand. "Let him crawl on all fours like the beast he is. We've got bigger things to deal with. Did you see Dr. Manus yesterday? Any luck finding a host?"
Kairo hesitated, his jaw tightening. "Alpha, we've tried everything. The Prototype Memory Agent is too strong - devours every host in thirty seconds flat. We can't find anyone powerful enough to take it. Unless…"
"Unless what?" I pressed, my patience thinning.
"Dr. Manus said… unless we find a powerful Lycan to be the host."
A powerful Lycan. The words sparked something in me, a flicker of possibility. I smirked, sliding into the car as Kairo held the door. He climbed in after me, and I pulled out my phone, dialing a number I knew by heart.
It rang twice before he picked up.
"Mr. Cleary," I purred, leaning back in the seat. "Long time no see. You busy?"
"Yes, it's been a while," Jalin's voice came through, cold as ice. "You fully clothed right now?"
I chuckled, dark and low, ignoring the jab at my old stripping days. "Why don't you come find out for yourself?"
He snorted, all disdain. "What? Lycidas' dick not big enough for all your holes, you fucking male whore?"
"Oh, Mr. Cleary," I said, grinning into the phone. "You know how much I like it when you talk dirty to me."
There was a pause, a crackle of silence on the line. I let my mind drift, the question curling through me like smoke - Which Lycan in this world is more powerful than the Lycan King? Even a puppet king.