Rewriting Her Destiny With The Lycan Kings

Zara stood there for a moment longer, her heart still pounding, but now with a different energy. The fear, the pain—those emotions were still there, buried deep within her. But for the first time, she felt the power of her position. She was their queen. She was their mate. And no one—no one—was going to tear them apart.

With a final, calming breath, Zara pushed open the door to the medical room, her determination firm and her focus now entirely on the Lycan brothers.

Zara's heart raced as she stepped into the room, her eyes instantly locking onto the sight of the Lycan brothers lying in the joint bed. The air was thick with tension, their bodies battered and bruised, their chests rising and falling with shallow breaths. The sight of them like this, so vulnerable, shook her to her core.

Denzel and Devonte were lying next to each other, shirtless, their bodies littered with sword cuts and deep, bruised marks. The jagged lines on their skin, the evidence of their battle, told a brutal story of what they'd endured to protect her.

Zara's throat tightened as she slowly approached, her steps careful, as though she were afraid that one wrong move might shatter the fragile moment they were in.

Their faces were pale, their expressions distant. They were semi-conscious, their eyes fluttering closed before snapping open again, but neither of them was fully awake.

Zara's breath hitched as she took in the severity of their injuries. The once powerful kings—her mates—were reduced to this state, their usual confidence replaced by exhaustion and pain.

Her chest tightened with both concern and something deeper. Guilt. Anger. She was angry that they had been hurt because of her—because of the danger that had been brought into their lives because of her presence.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached out to touch the edge of the blanket that covered them, her gaze flickering over their injuries. She had to be strong for them now, just as they had been for her.

She moved closer, her heart aching as she noticed the raw, jagged gashes along their torsos, some still bleeding slightly, others starting to form scabs. The marks were reminders of the vicious battle they had fought for her—because of her. Zara bit her lip, fighting back the overwhelming surge of emotions threatening to break free. She couldn't afford to lose control—not now.

Without thinking, she leaned over Devonte, brushing her fingers gently along the curve of his jaw, the familiar, comforting warmth of his skin under her fingertips.

His eyes flickered open, his pupils dilated, trying to focus on her. For a moment, he just stared at her, confusion and pain evident in his gaze. Then, his lips parted, but the words were lost in a raspy whisper.

"Zara..."

His voice was rough, barely a sound, and yet it was enough to make her heart skip a beat.

She shook her head softly, not trusting herself to speak. Instead, she placed her hand on his chest, feeling the steady, if weak, thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palm. He's alive. They're alive. They're going to be okay.

Denzel, sensing her presence, stirred slightly beside his brother. His eyes cracked open, and when he saw her, a faint, strained smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His body trembled as he attempted to sit up, but a sharp hiss of pain escaped him, and he immediately lay back down with a low groan.

"Don't move," Zara whispered urgently, her hand going to his chest in a soothing gesture.

"Please... you need to rest."

Denzel looked up at her, his features hard, yet filled with an emotion she couldn't quite decipher.

"You should be safe," he rasped, his voice rough from the effort to speak.

"We should've—"

"Don't," she cut him off, her voice firm despite the fear that trembled in her chest. She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to hear them blaming themselves for something that had been out of their control.

"You are safe. And so am I."

She reached out, cupping his cheek gently, brushing her thumb across his skin.

"You're both going to be okay."

For a long moment, the three of them remained in silence. Zara stayed close, her presence the only comfort in the otherwise sterile room. The Lycan brothers' breathing slowly became steadier, their bodies relaxing beneath her touch.

She could feel the weight of the bond between them—a bond she had once feared, but now, it was her lifeline. She would never let anyone, or anything, take them from her.

But as she sat there, a quiet tension grew inside her, a thought she couldn't shake.

Who sent the shadow hunters? Why were they targeting them?

Her eyes drifted to the window, and her mind raced with unanswered questions, questions that couldn't be ignored. Zara knew this was only the beginning.

There was much more at stake than the shadows she'd fought off the night before. She would have to be ready for whatever came next—for herself, for the Lycan Kings, for all of them.

The door creaked open then, and Zara's attention snapped back to the room, her protective instincts rising. The sound of footsteps echoed in the quiet space. Without turning around, she knew who it was before the figure stepped fully into view.

Ezra stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable, his gaze flicking between the brothers and Zara. She didn't need to hear his voice to know he had the same questions running through his mind. She just hoped, for their sake, she could find the answers before it was too late.

And somewhere, deep in the recesses of her mind, a voice whispered,

They're not safe.

Not yet.