The King (The Lycans #8) Read Online Jenika Snow

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Insta-Love, Paranormal, Vampires, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The Lycans Series by Jenika Snow
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Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
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I exhaled slowly and nodded once, although I didn’t know what I was agreeing to. Maybe that I had things under control? That there was rational thought and conversation to be had between us despite this intense and surreal situation we both found ourselves in?

Whatever was happening, I knew I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t turn my back on it. Because the truth was, I didn’t want to. I was only eighteen, hadn’t even contemplated finding my mate. This was my first real exploration of the big world around me.

The only thing I’d been focused on was traveling, seeing the world, finding my place. Carving out a little spot for just me.

But against all odds, here I was, staring at my over six and a half foot tall Lycan shifter mate.

“We should probably talk about this.” He didn’t answer for a long second but then took a step back, as if knowing I needed a little bit of space, extra breathing room.

“Aye,” he said and lifted his hand, his fingers tipped with lethal looking claws. He ran it over his jaw, his forearm muscles flexing. I was transfixed at the sight of those veins underneath his tan skin, of that dark dusting of hair covering his flesh.

I gritted my teeth at the feeling of a new wave of arousal, and although his nostrils flared once more and I knew he could smell what was happening to me, he didn’t point it out, wasn’t lewd or vulgar about it.

“How about you get dressed and then we can talk?”

And then he turned, presenting his back and giving me privacy.

Whether I wanted this or not, I was now mated and had to figure out what my life now looked like for the future.

Chapter Seven

Luna

I was hoping that if I kept my thighs clenched tightly enough, it would hide the scent of my arousal. But every once in a while I’d see his nostrils flare and knew that was just wishful thinking.

For the last several minutes, after I got dressed, we just sat there, neither one of us speaking. I didn’t know if it was because he didn’t know what to say or he didn’t trust his voice and actions. I knew that was both my reasonings for keeping my jaw locked tight and staying away from him.

Although there was a good five feet between us, I felt like I was practically sitting on his lap. He was just so large, his body making the boulder he sat on seem like a pebble. His thighs were braced apart, his forearms resting on his knees as he kept his upper body leaning forward and stared at me.

He’d gotten his inner wolf under control… marginally. And even though his eyes no longer glowed blue, I still felt this prickling awareness coming from him that he was barely hanging on to his sanity, as if it were taking all of his restraint not to shift into his wolf.

That should have terrified me, the prospect of seeing a Lycan fully shifted, but gods, it made me all hot and bothered.

I cleared my throat, his gaze more than a little unnerving because it was so focused on me. “How about we start with who you are?” I was pretty proud of myself for trying to have a civilized conversation.

He straightened his intimidating frame, pulled his shoulders back, and I visibly saw his chest puff out. Oh boy. I could already tell he took great pride in what he was about to say. Typical arrogant alpha in the Otherworld.

“I am Banner McGregor. King of the Scottish Lycans.”

Oh. Ohhh.

Looks like I snagged myself some royalty.

Although it wouldn’t have made a difference if he was a peasant living in a village out in the middle of nowhere. I still would’ve felt the same intense connection no matter what.

“Okay, Banner.” He barely contained the slow rumble of noise that left his chest. I could tell he was pleased I’d said his name. That shouldn’t have had my inner muscles clenching unbearably.

“I’m Luna Darris.” I touched the center of my chest as if I were trying to talk through his primitive side. I felt foolish but kept going. “I’m American, obviously from the accent, and here on a holiday.” I was rambling, but then again I’d never felt more nervous in my life.

I cleared my throat and crossed my legs, which I probably shouldn’t have done because all I did was draw his attention to that part of my body, which then had another rush of silky arousal spilling between my thighs.

“Lass,” he growled in a voice that was so husky. “I’m trying my hardest tae be a civilized male when my kind is anything but.” He paused, maybe letting that reality sink in. “But I’ll be honest,” he said and leaned forward again, his elbows braced on his thighs, his eyes flashing blue momentarily. “Ye smell so fooking good it’s scrambling my brain, having my inner beast demand I mark ye.” He lowered his gaze to the side of my throat, which was bared because I’d gathered the long fall of my hair and haphazardly braided it.


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