My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

Zosime had a headache. She awoke on a hard stone floor with sunlight shining on her face. And there was a horrible smell nearby.

She groaned, pushing herself up to find that she was lying on a bed of hay. There was hay stuck to her face and her forearms.

"Goddess, have I been reincarnated as a pig?" she groaned again and squinted, looking around. She was in a pen.

"You have got to be kidding me," she mumbled, slowly standing and then quickly catching herself on the wire fencing that surrounded her. She was dizzy.

"Call the boss," she heard a male voice announce from somewhere nearby.

When she finally was able to open her eyes again and focus, she realized there was a sweaty, hairy male sitting outside of her enclosure facing her. He was sucking on peanuts and spitting the shells on the ground while keeping his eyes on her.

"You hungry?" the male asked between peanuts. She actually felt like she might vomit, especially with the sucking noise he was making. "Boss said to feed you."

"Boss?" she asked. Everything felt rather hazy at the moment.

The male snickered, revealing a set of teeth that didn't appear to have been cared for this century.

"You stupid or something?" he asked, clearly amused. "You don't remember nothin?"

She frowned, swaying on her feet as she searched her memory. Oh yeah, she was saved from making the most humiliating admission to the Hallowell lycan pack on Samhain, but the tradeoff was that she returned to the psychopathic vampire from her nightmares. Now that she was capable of dying, it seemed like a pretty good time.

Why had Zagan kept her alive? So she would have the distinct privilege of ending this wretched, cursed life herself?

"He said to give you these when you came to," the hairy creature said, sliding a small plate of cookies into her cage. A cup of juice followed, the orange liquid sloshing around with the friction of the bumpy ground beneath.

She looked at the gifts warily, wishing to be stubborn and refuse everything offered to her here. But if there was a chance it would make this horrendous headache ease, she would take it. After glancing back up at the male who stood watching her with hungry eyes, she stooped to pick them up. That was when she realized she still had the formal dress on that was intended for Samhain. No wonder this creep was ogling her.

After taking a bite of one of the cookies, she paused her chewing and growled at him. He smirked and returned to his seat. Fucking males.

The plate of cookies was nearly emptied when Zagan finally appeared in front of her. She expected him. Of course he would be here to check on her.

"Zosime," he purred, and she gulped the rest of the cookie down, wiping any crumbs from her face.

"Don't call me that," she said bitterly.

The vampire tilted his head to the side in amusement. His hair was a nice shiny black, and his eyes matched. He had been feeding well, she could see.

"But that is your name," he replied.

"It is the name you gave me. It is not my name," she argued, crossing her arms in front of her.

"We need to get you some different clothes," he mumbled as his eyes lowered to her chest, which was far too exposed in that dress.

Despite how young she appeared to be, it would likely entice the males here. There were not many new females that they had the chance of seeing, and he didn't trust them to stay away from her. When the lycans were out of his sight, who knows what they did. Zagan let them indulge themselves in whatever they fancied without interference, because that is what kept them loyal to him when the time came. They were living creatures… they had appetites. And he could understand appetite, even if his only consisted of one thing. The living had the ability to crave so many things. Perhaps he envied them for it.

But now he was suddenly finding himself… protective. Zosime was like a daughter to him.

Zagan removed his long black leather coat and grabbed the cage door, jolting it open with one pull. No lycan's strength could match his own.

Zoe remained standing with her arms folded in front of herself like a stubborn teenager. He wondered how much of the superior intellect he had given her had remained after her memory returned.

The alteration of Zosime's memory was harsh. It wasn't something he liked to do, and he avoided it ever since.

Did he like control over his alyko playthings? Well, yes. Of course he did. But when he altered their memory with his own vampiric ability, it also tended to alter their personality and behavior. He had to fill in the gaps, and what he ended up creating were little replicas of himself. They had temporary immortality. Temporary increased intelligence. But they were so… robotic. They were too much like him. That wasn't what he was after.

Zagan didn't want progeny, he wanted the qualities that the alyko had that were out of reach for him—life. Harmony with nature. A way of controlling the elements in a gentle, cooperative way. Portals into multiple dimensions. And so much more that he may not even know about yet. The Luna would give him more insight into what was possible.

"What should I call you then?" he finally asked, offering his jacket with an outstretched hand to the stubborn girl in front of him.

He was going to give Zosime another chance. She was obviously quite powerful as an alyko now, despite how hopeless she had been years ago. He wanted to see if she could blossom into something that was more… her. More her than the version he had created.

He saw her mind working, and her jaw feathered with the effort of it. She grabbed the jacket from him resentfully and slipped it on, wrapping it fully around herself to cover any exposed skin. Her chin jutted out in defiance.. Even though she was taking his jacket, she wasn't his to command anymore.