Goodbye, My Mate

Chapter 250

Lycidas' POV

The lazy afternoon sunlight in Miami pressed against me like a lover's claw, the moon long gone but its bloody echo still staining the sky. I stepped out of the limousine, and the red carpet unfurled before me like a tongue, wet with the flash of cameras and the screams of the crowd. The hotel loomed, a glittering beast of glass and steel, its jaws wide with fans clawing at the barriers, their voices a feral hymn to my name. I was Lycidas, the Lycan Prince, a Hollywood god carved from hunger and shadow, and they worshipped me with every ragged breath.

I strode forward, my boots sinking into the plush scarlet, and the air thickened with their adoration. The paparazzi swarmed, lenses glinting like predatory eyes, but I owned them all. My lips curled into a smile, sharp and deliberate, as I waved - a king acknowledging his court. The noise swelled, a tidal wave of sound, and then a voice cut through it, high and desperate.

"Lycidas! Lycidas!" A female journalist, her face flushed with something between awe and madness, strained against the railing. Her eyes devoured me, wide and unblinking, and I sauntered over, leaning casually against the metal, my body a taunt. She froze, words choking in her throat, and I let the silence stretch, savoring her tremble.

"Do you have any questions for me?" I purred, my voice a blade wrapped in velvet. The crowd around us boiled, their screams spiking as if my words had sliced them open.

She blinked, snapping back to herself, and stammered, "Will you - will you continue to act in werewolf movies? Have you considered stepping out of your comfort zone for other roles?"

I laughed, a low growl of amusement rumbling through my chest. "Comfort zone?" I said, leaning closer, letting the weight of my gaze pin her like prey. "I don't have a comfort zone, only a domination zone." The smile stayed, but my eyes burned, and she gasped, her breath hitching as if I'd pressed a hand to her throat. The tension coiled between us, thick and primal, and the fans erupted, their shrieks clawing at the night.

A woman's voice pierced the chaos, wild and unhinged. "L! Fuck me right now!" I turned, spotting her perched atop her boyfriend's shoulders, her arms flailing like a beast in heat. She waved at me, her grin feral, and I smirked.

"But you came with a boyfriend," I called back, my tone mocking. "You're literally sitting on his neck."

She cackled, throwing her head back. "Oh, fuck him! He'll understand!" The crowd roared with laughter and lust, feeding off my every word, and I waved once more, a lazy gesture of dismissal, before turning toward the hotel. The glass doors swallowed me whole, and the mask slipped. My smile vanished, replaced by a cold, focused edge. The game outside was over; another awaited within.

The private elevator hummed as it carried me to the penthouse, the silence a stark blade against the cacophony I'd left behind. I punched in the code, and the door slid open, revealing the suite - opulent, shadowed, mine. In the center of the room knelt Finn, his suit crisp but his hands cuffed behind his back, a blindfold slicing across his eyes. He was a statue of submission, trembling faintly, and the sight stirred the beast in me.

I crossed the room, my footsteps deliberate, echoing like a predator's stalk. My watch clattered onto the table, a metallic snarl, and I loosened my tie, the silk hissing against my collar. Finn heard me - his head tilted, a small, animal motion - but he didn't dare rise. I reached out, threading my fingers through his hair, and he pressed into my touch, a whimper caught in his throat. Fear and need warred in him, and I drank it down.

Then I tightened my grip, yanking him up by the roots, and dragged him to the sofa. I sank into its depths, the leather groaning under my weight, and Finn followed, his face nuzzling my leg like a dog begging forgiveness. My phone buzzed, a rude intrusion, and I fished it from my pocket, one hand still teasing his lips, brushing the edge of his submission.

Jalin's voice grated through the line as I answered. "My patience is limited. Have you found Leah?"

I ignored him, my tone flat. "Let my brother speak on the phone."

"I'm talking to you!" he snapped, his insolence a spark to my temper.

"I'm hanging up," I said, and the call cut off with a flick of my thumb. Finn's lips had begun their work, kissing a slow path up my thigh, and I unbuckled my belt, the metal clinking like a promise. He caught the zipper with his teeth, dragging it down with agonizing care, and I felt the heat of his breath against me.

The phone rang again - Jalin, relentless. I pressed answer, my patience a fraying thread. "How dare you hang up on me! Did you hear me..."

I ended it again, my focus narrowing to Finn. He rubbed his face against me, a soft question slipping from his lips. "Your Highness, what would you do with that human over there?" His voice trembled, and I glanced at the cage in the corner, where Darren lay curled, a silent shadow.

My hand lashed out, a sharp slap across his cheek, and he flinched. "Have I allowed you to speak?" I said, my voice a chilled blade. "Your mouth has only one purpose." I stroked his lips, forcing them apart, and he murmured, "I'm sorry, Your Highness," before lowering his head to obey. His tongue flicked out, and I leaned back, a low groan escaping me as he began.

The phone rang once more, and I answered, expecting Jalin's bile. Instead, Lucian's weak voice rasped through. "Lycidas."

"Brother, are you okay?" I asked, my hand tightening in Finn's hair, guiding him deeper.

"Did you find Leah?" Lucian's concern bled through the line, and Finn's mouth closed around me, drawing a suppressed moan from my chest.

"I've found her," I said, forcing my voice steady. "Her condition's poor, though. She needs rest - a month, maybe, before we return to the Kingdom together."

"Was she injured?" he pressed, and I could hear the strain in him.

"With me here, she'll be fine," I assured him. "I'll bring her back. Don't worry. How's your leg? Dr. Aspen Monk said you can stand now."