Chapter 44


    His eyes are pitch ck and his canines are extended. His grip tightens and I choke, my legs kicking at


    him when he growls louder. The next second, Gnash bites him. Regan roars, the sound setting my


    blood to ice as his aura smashes me and his grip tightens, making me thrash as he crushes my throat.


    He nces down at his wolf while I grasp at his hand, needing him to let go so I can breathe.


    “Gnash?” Regan blinks at him and the crazed look on his face disappears and his facial features


    soften. Gnash growls, snapping his jaws at his owner and I dig my nails into his hand which draws his


    attention back to me. He looks at me and blinks, almost like he’s not sure if he’s seeing correctly or if


    I’m merely a figment of his imagination. My lips part suffocating on his tight grip, and my head feels on


    the verge of exploding.


    “Human?” He murmurs and his brows furrow. His eyes go to my fingernails digging into his hand and


    he gasps, eyes widening, he lets go.


    Ind on my knees at his feet and clutch my throat. Sucking in huge lungfuls of air, trying to catch my


    breath, yet I can still feel his lingering grip, like his fingers are etched into my flesh. Seconds felt like


    hours while trapped in his grip. Regan moves, “Zirah you can’t–” he moves to grab me, but I p his


    hands.


    “Don’t touch me!” I rasp out while Gnash whimpers, nudging me with his nose while my heart pounds


    erratically.


    “Let’s go,” Regan says, ripping open the door and walking out. I stare after him, wondering what came


    over him when Gnash whimpers, nudging me once again. I pat his head, my fingers trembling when I


    clutch his fur, pulling myself to my feet.


    Regan doesn’t wait for me. Instead, I lose him and have to rely on Gnash to show me the way. Gnash


    leads me to the dining hall where I hear arguing, Regan screaming at his brothers when I hear ss


    shatter and a loud bang. Upon entering, I find Regan has Zeke against the wall by his throat, and Lyon


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    is trying to get between them.


    “Regan, calm down,” Lyon speaks softly while grasping Regan’s shoulder.


    “I could have fucking killed her!” Regan screams back at Lyon.


    “You said to watch her. You never said how long for!” Zeke retorts.


    “You knew I was drinking wolfsbane! You were hoping I fucking killed her!” Regan snarls, mming


    Zeke into the wall again before he grunts, staggering back and clutching his side.


    Zeke shoves past him. “Well, it appears I now have to do the dirty work for us. You’ve never been a


    team yer, Regan. Instead, once again, I will have to be the fucking bad guy!” Zeke snaps when his


    eyes fall on me. Regan snarls, looking down at his side, and my eyes go to the de stabbed into him.


    His shirt turns a deep shade of red.


    Regan pulls the long de out and grits his teeth while Lyon moves to lift his shirt only to earn a growl.


    He backs away with his hands in the air and I watch, wondering what happened in the few minutes it


    took me to get here. It is clear whatever it is; it is to do with me, and what happened when I came up


    behind Regan in the bedroom.


    Regan goes to argue back when Zeke smiles. “She looks perfectly fine to me!” Zeke says, and Lyon


    and Regan’s attention is drawn to me. Regan mutters something but takes his seat, Lyon throws a


    nervous nce at him but also takes his.


    Moving into the room, I drop into the closest chair, and Gnash sits at my feet. The table is set with


    every food you could think of and I wait, ncing at the stupid board that is now attached to the wall


    with all the rules that Zeke is intent on following when it regards me. Yet is willing to break their own.


    Regan drops the de on the table and reaches for a cloth napkin. He curses, lifting his shirt a little


    and pressing it against the wound that is spilling blood down his abs and side, and soaking the


    waistband of his pants. Shaking his head, he growls, snatching up another knife, but he quickly tosses


    it aside.


    “Fucking dick, you know I can’t heal properly right now.” Zeke waves him off and passes him a clean


    butter knife. Regan snatches it, holding the tip of the de over one of the candles. Bile rises in my


    throat, knowing exactly how much burns hurt. He waits for the tip to glow red when he presses it


    against the wound.


    He grits his teeth, ring at Zeke, who only serves to mock him more by smiling at him. When he’s


    done, he drops his shirt and sets the knife on the table. He grabs his food from the tters, loading his


    te. After a few minutes, a servant brings out a bottle of whiskey.


    Regan snatches the bottle, not bothering with a ss, and drinks out of it while Zeke raises an eyebrow


    at him and asks for wine. The servant moves toward Lyon but he holds up his ss to say and sips his


    water. My eyes go back to the board when Regan speaks.


    “Gnashe!” He calls his wolf who gets up, Gnash huffs and wanders over to him and I see Regan


    grab a steak off one of the tters that sit in the center of the table, he gives it to Gnash and pats his


    head only for Gnash toe to me.


    “Gnash, what are you–” his words cut off when he realizes Gnash wasing back to me. Gnash


    drops the huge steak into myp and I pull a face.


    “Ew, Gnash. No, you eat it!” I tell him, I definitely don’t want it now that he’s drooled on it. Gnash


    nudges me with his nose and my stomach sinks at the thought that their wolves have better instincts


    than they do. At least his wolf cares enough to feed me.


    “Why aren’t you eating?” Regan questions, pulling my attention to him.


    “One of the rules, brother,” Zeke states while cutting into his steak.


    “What fucking rule says she can’t eat?” Regan snaps, and Zeke rolls his eyes.


    “The rules are behind you. She can only eat what we give her and miss goody-two-shoes over there is


    too much of a chicken to break the rules. I tried to get her to!” Zeke taunts, his eyes flicking to me.


    “Don’t worry, she will eventually, and I can’t wait to punish her for it when she does!” He says, sending


    me a cruel smile. Regan turns in his seat to look at the rules before he growls and turns back to the


    table.


    “Who made that rule?” My eyes move to Lyon, who is now ring at his te, and Regan presses his


    lips in a line.


    “So I take it she didn’t eat lunch?”


    “She refused her lunch. Don’t worry brother, you didn’t break the rule to ensure she eats three times a


    day. Don’t worry, I’m always looking out for you, not your fault if she refused it. Though I’m sure her


    refusal is fitting of a punishment? Don’t you think Lyon?” Zeke mocks, turning to look at his brother.


    Lyon doesn’t meet my gaze but offers nothing on the decision to punish me for not drinking poison.


    “Why? What did you order for her?” Regan questions.


    “Nothing, I sent the servant to ask, but you mmed the door in her face. I told the servant she could


    have the same as you, though, but I find the human to be quite stubborn about dying, so she refused,


    unfortunately.” Zeke chuckles.


    Regan grabs the bloodied knife. “I’d think twice, you wouldn’t want to piss me off, especially given


    tomorrow is my day with her. I will make it even more painful if youy a damn finger on me again.”


    Zeke warns his brother. Regan’s eyes go to me and reluctantly he drops the knife while shaking his


    head.


    “So do you want me to punish her for you, Regan? I don’t mind, and I think a good throat fucking will


    teach her the error of her ways!” I gulp, the action making my crushed windpipe hurt.


    “By the look of her neck, she’s already been punished,” Lyon states. His head tilting to the side, Zeke


    sighs. “Always ruining my fun,” he mutters.


    “One day I’ll fucking kill you!” Regan snarls at Zeke.


    “Such morbid talk for dinner, Brother. Choose a topic that is not so depressing. Besides my death, you’ll


    never manage, not unless you’re suicidal. Should I call the family therapist? Do we need to have


    another heart-to-heart?” Zeke asks, twisting in his seat.


    Zeke drops his elbow on the table, propping his chin on his hand. “And how does that make you feel?


    Did little Zekey hurt your feelings?” Zeke teases and Regan shoves him. Zeke snickers, turning back in


    his chair when Regan looks at me.


    “Eat whatever you want,” he tells me and I nce at the table.


    “Make sure you eat. Goddess only knows what the fuck Zeke will feed you!” Lyon growls, ring at


    Zeke, who only shrugs. Taking their advice, I pile my te with vegetables before looking at the burned


    steaks and scrunching my face up. When I see theirs, however, theirs looks much more appetizing.


    Standing up, I steal a piece of steak from their side of the table and they all stop eating to look at me.