The Lycan Kingpin's Captive: A Baby For The Beast

Chapter 20 - Nikolaos



My brother saunters into my office with his hands in the pockets of his slacks; an Ioannides trait. The same face, same color eyes, mannerisms, and cruel streaks but even as we are spitting images of one another, there are major differences.

For one, we both have tattoos right up to our necks, but they differ in designs. Bastien wasn't tormented like I was and he experienced true love once upon a time. Where I suffered trauma at a young age, he experienced it later in life.

He pours us each a glass of whiskey, then gestures for me to join him over by the leather sofas.

"So, what were you going to call me about?”

I take the glass and shake my head. “Before you even ask that, why are you here? Is Sin City getting boring?”

He chuckles, crossing one leg over the other knee. “On the contrary, business is booming. But my reason for visiting is to ask if you're hoping to part with Alpha Kinnead's sword.”

“You want to place it at the auction?” I ask, and he nods. “Then, by all mean, take the fucking thing.” “Thanks, little brother,” he says, calling me by that berating name again. “So now that my question is answered, it's your turn. You never call for trivial things, so come clean.”

I hate the way both Maxim and Bastien know me so well. The poker face I pride myself on gets shattered within seconds.

I steeple my hands together and rest my forehead against them before breathing out. “I'll be no better than Mikhail using her for her blood.”

Bastien’s eyes are boring into me, I can feel it; he's uncertain of what to say to this but it's shut him up for now. I have never cared for anyone else outside my pack, never thought of another's well- being, so what makes Mirabella so different from the rest?

Why do I crave her even after knowing Mikhail has had his way with her?

"We do things for the good of the pack, you know this. They come first, before anything else,” he says with a weary sigh. “We have a responsibility to protect them and if that means pushing our own boundaries and hard limits, then so be it.”

He's right; of course, he's right. There's a reason he's a better Alpha than me, after all.

My brother gets to his feet and slaps my shoulder. “I'll leave you to contemplate this, then. Nothing we say will make you change your mind, so perhaps you should stop asking for our advice on it. The answer needs to come from you.”

I nod. “I'll have a think and see where to go from here. You know where the guestrooms are, so stay the night before you depart.”

“Thank you, brother. I am quite exhausted from all this auction planning,” he says, heaving out a sigh before getting to his feet. He nods his head in a gesture of goodnight, then leaves my office for the guest rooms.

I should have known Bastien would think like Maxim; after all, this is the pack and our lineage we're speaking about.

Feeling weary, I decided to call it a night and head to bed. Hopefully, my dreams are not plagued with visions of them taunting me once more and telling me what I already know.

That I am made of ruin; everything I touch slowly decays. There's no room for emotions in a heart encased in concrete and shackles, there's no...softness left in me.

As I walk up the stairway and take the corner to my room, I stop at her door without thinking. This happens every night when I walk down this hallway; I am pulled towards her like a fucking moth to a flame. Every night I resist, every night I fight the urge to go to her.

Because, like Mikhail, I will ruin Mirabella.

This little rabbit deserves her freedom away from predators like me; and with that thought, I breathe out a sigh and walk to my bedroom - but something stops me.

Her voice.

“You're deluding yourself, Mirabella; he simply wants your womb and nothing else. Do not romanticize this...It's madness!"

As her words constrict my heart, I can't help but smile wistfully before shaking whatever thought just formed in my mind. She's right, we should not romanticize this and see it for what it is - a business transaction.


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