Defying the Lycan King (Kira and Derek) novel Chapter 286

Chapter 286: The Jar Room

They broke apart slowly, and even then Derek didn’t let go of her face.

His eyes were already moving, dropping from her mouth to her throat to her arms, taking in every inch of her. He turned her wrist over. Found the burns the shadow net had left across her skin and his jaw tightened.

"They hurt you."

"That’s nothing." Kira caught his hand before he could go further. "Derek, look at me. That’s nothing."

He wasn’t listening. His palm settled flat against her stomach, and she felt him go completely still.

"They’re fine," she said quietly.

A sigh went out of him then, and for a second he closed his eyes and simply breathed.

He wanted to pull her into his chest and stay there. He wanted the world to hold still for thirty seconds so he could feel her actually breathing against him, feel her heart going, prove to himself she wasn’t something he’d conjured up out of three days without sleep. He wanted it badly enough that it took real effort not to.

But there was a war going on around them, and the corridor was full of bodies, and none of them had time.

The anger he had carried for days — the fury at her recklessness, the note, the silence — had burned away the moment he saw her.

That didn’t mean he was letting off. He fully intended to have that conversation. What she had done was still reckless, even if it might some day, in history be seen as brave, it had still been the single most careless thing anybody in his life had ever done to him.

But not now. Later, when everything was safe and he could shout at her properly.

"We’re not finished discussing this," he said finally.

"I assumed not."

"Okay, love birds, can someone get me out of these chains?"

They both turned to Nana. Derek crossed the corridor in three strides and dropped to his knees in front of her.

"Nana."

"Well, you took your time."

He didn’t answer. He got both hands round the shackles and pulled, and they didn’t so much as flex. He tried again, harder, and Kira saw his shoulders lock with the effort.

"Move," Kira said gently, kneeling beside him.

She laid two fingers against the band on Nana’s left wrist. The light came up under her skin, faint and gold, and the shackle hissed like water hitting a hot pan and came apart into nothing.

The second one followed.

Nana rubbed at her wrists, and Kira saw the raw rings the chains had burned into them.

"Oh, don’t look at me like that," Nana said, catching her expression. "I’m seventy-four. Everything’s sore. This is simply sore in a more interesting location than usual."

Derek helped her sit forward, and she gripped his forearm hard.

"Can you stand?"

"I imagine so. I’d rather not do it alone."

They got her up between them, one on each side, and she leaned her weight into her grandson and let out a slow breath.

"I’m sorry," Kira said. "For that dining hall. For every word of it."

"Don’t be daft. You bought me three days." Nana’s hand came up to Kira’s cheek. "And I called you a half-blood nobody in front of them, so I’d say we’re square."

Kira let out a wet laugh.

"There’s something you should know," Nana went on. "They talk in front of me like I’m a coat stand. There’s a room below the throne hall Lydia goes into alone. Shelves full of jars. Whatever’s in there matters to her far more than I do."

Kira’s eyes met Derek’s.

"Lydia." She was already moving down the corridor, scanning the rubble, checking behind the fallen stone. "I put her through that wall. I felt her hit it." She spun round. "She is supposed to be unconscious."

Is it even you? Rolf thought, driving his shoulder into Jake’s chest and putting him through another shelf. Are you the thing itself, or just the jar it’s sitting in?

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