Apparently Cyrus knew how to drive because he had a car with him. It was a Rolls-Royce Phantom. This was startling since Rolls-Royce Phantoms—or even Rolls-Royce in general— were known to be costly. Luxury cars. Not a regular “family” car. This made Paradox hesitate to enter the car—the car itself was sleek and shiny, the seats’ leather new and unused, the carpet spotlessly clean. The car itself looked untouched, as if bought brand new. Perhaps it was, Paradox didn’t know.

“Get in,” Cyrus said, opening the passenger’s door wide, gesturing Paradox to enter the car. “What, afraid you might damage it?”

Paradox gave a short nod.

Cyrus snorted, scoffing back a laugh. “Kid. You won’t. If you do, well…” His voice trailed off and he, after letting go of the door, cupped Paradox’s chin. “You’d just have to pay with your body.”

A shiver crept up Paradox’s spine and arms and he stared at Cyrus with wide eyes. He glanced at the car and back at Cyrus before managing, “H-how exactly?”

The Lycanthrope grinned, fangs flashing. He leaned close and then murmured in Paradox’s ear, “I fuck you until you’re breathless, gasping my name, legs giving out. You’ll be high off my pheromones, body dripping from sweat, blood, and come. Your vision will be blurry, head dizzy, and I’ll keep fucking you until you’re out cold.” Cyrus blew a hot stream of air into Paradox’s ear and Paradox shuddered. “You like that, don’t you? Look at you, blushing furiously, eyes everywhere but on me.” Cyrus pressed a hot kiss against Paradox’s throat, just above his fluttering pulse. “You’re a sweet one, kid. But seriously. Get in the car.” Cyrus pushed Paradox forward, causing him to stumble into the car. “Or I can fuck you against my car if you don—”

Paradox had never entered a car faster in his life before.

Cyrus closed the door behind Paradox. He went to the driver’s door and then entered. He placed his key into the keyhole and started the car. The car started with a low purr. Cyrus looked at Paradox but Paradox looked away, not wanting to meet the Lycan’s intense stare. He heard Cyrus chuckle and say, “Oh, boy, you’re a tough one.” And they were off.

The car ride was awkward, at least, for Paradox it was. Cyrus looked at ease, gaze focused ahead while driving. He was a good driver, making sure to stop when needed, using his signals, and staying on the limit. Paradox was now curious how Cyrus got his license. He was a Lycan, not a human, so it didn’t make sense for him to take a driving school or driving test in the human world. Was there one in Byd Cyntaf? If so, was it similar?

“Kid, I’d appreciate it if you talked rather than staring so intensely at me. It’s making me feel awkward,” Cyrus said suddenly.

Paradox didn’t realize he was staring. He looked away, now looking out the window.

Cyrus gave off a bark of a laugh. “Kid, I’m not going to do anything. I pretty much can’t. I’m driving. I don’t want to die and I’m sure you don’t want to, either.” Cyrus drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “So what questions do you have? You clearly do have questions—don’t deny it.”

Paradox gave a short jerk of his head—barely a nod, barely a rejection or confirmation. It was something unsure. He nervously looked at the Lycanthrope who had a calm expression on his face. When they came to a red light, Cyrus looked at Paradox. His icy blue and dark gold eyes were glowing, a shimmering pool of piqued interest, low-lying lust, and something predatorial. The gaze was so intense that Paradox felt his heart quickening; he felt cornered and at unrest—he really wanted to get out of the car.

“Tell me something interesting about you, kid,” Cyrus said.

“I wish you’d stop calling me ‘kid’,” Paradox muttered.

Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “But you are a kid, aren’t you?”

“How old are you?” Paradox asked. He knew that the Lycanthrope had a few years on him, probably somewhere between one or two, maybe three. Cyrus was obviously an adult—there was no way he was younger than eighteen.

“Twenty-three,” Cyrus said.

Paradox choked on the air. Five years? The Lycan was five years older than him? He sucked in a sharp breath, shaking his head in disbelief. He was crazy.

“Kid—” Cyrus started, but Paradox snapped, “Stop fucking saying that. Stop saying ‘kid’. It’s creeping me out. You know my name. Right? I told you, didn’t I?”

“Paradox,” Cyrus amended.

Perhaps it was the way Cyrus said his name, or perhaps it was Cyrus’s pheromones, or maybe even the confinement of the car, but Paradox felt suddenly hot. He tried to look away again, but Cyrus stopped him, quite literally: he used his hand to cup Paradox’s cheek.

“You are so fucking cute,” Cyrus said. “You have no clue, do you?” He leaned close, nose brushing against Paradox’s. “I want to kiss you and fuck you all at once but we’re in the car.” He drew back and Paradox was now freezing. “Who knows? Maybe if we head back to my place we can do whatever.” He said.

The light had finally turned green and Cyrus was now driving again.

Paradox hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. He gave off a short gasp, hand fisting his shirt, and he rapidly inhaled and exhaled to near hyperventilation. Everything was too much. He wasn’t ready to do this. He wasn’t ready for anything.

The car ride was quiet, minus the soft purr of the engine and the wind rushing through the opened windows. Paradox fixed his gaze outside the window, watching as the trees blurred by, watching as they zipped past cars. Despite it being quiet and with nothing to do, Paradox was nowhere near bored: he was on edge, constantly wary by the fact that he was in a Lycanthrope’s car. Who knows where they could be going? Perhaps to the middle of nowhere where Cyrus would then kill him. He didn’t know what could happen. He didn’t know what to expect.

An hour had gone by and Cyrus was still driving. Paradox felt fear rising in his throat. Maybe Cyrus was going to kill him. Why were they driving so far away? They were getting farther and farther away from Maes Chwarae’r Diafol and that was concerning.

“It’s a bit of a drive,” Cyrus said suddenly, alarming Paradox.

“Wh-what?” Paradox asked, confused, looking at the Lycan.

“My place is in Wickham. We’ll be there in an hour.” Cyrus said calmly.

Another hour? Paradox wasn’t sure if he could deal with another hour with the Lycan in his car. He wanted out. But it wasn’t like he was going to fling open the passenger door and exit the car—they were driving at at least 65 miles per hour and if he were to get out, he’d probably die. Or perhaps that’d be a merciful death.

“Kid—Paradox. I’m not going to hurt you.” Cyrus said. He was gripping his steering wheel tight. “Would you stop panicking? It’s bothering me. The smell of fear is really getting to me, okay? You’re making me panic.” Cyrus had a bite to his tone.

“You’re a goddamn Lycanthrope. I’m in your fucking car. How the hell can I not panic?” Paradox snapped.

“If you want me to crash because you’re freaking me out, then continue to freak out. I am less likely to die than you are.” Cyrus snapped back. He never once looked at Paradox; his eyes were trained to the road.

“I hate you,” Paradox muttered.

“You’re the one who wanted me to fuck you. So I did. You never once said stop or no or wait. Don’t go blaming me for what you wanted. If you knew what was going to happen, then it’s your fault, not mine. I have no control over the law, okay? It’s fucked up, I know, but I’m doing what I’m doing.” Cyrus’s voice was harsh. “I promised you already: I’m not going to hurt you. I have no intentions of hurting you. You’re a life. A human, but a life.” Cyrus waved his right hand dismissively. “Now either shut up or turn on the radio.”

“Talking is not an option?” Paradox asked.

A muscle ticked in Cyrus’s jaw and Paradox wondered if he had managed to anger the Lycanthrope.

“You can talk,” Cyrus said slowly, “so long you aren’t being a brat or bothering me.”

“Are you really taking me to your place and not somewhere sketchy?” Paradox asked.

Cyrus heaved a sigh. “Ki—Paradox. I told, I have—”

“—no intentions of harming me, yeah, yeah, I know. But how am I supposed to trust you? You’re a Lycanthrope.” Paradox pointed out.

“You weren’t even wasted that night,” Cyrus said. He spared a quick glance at Paradox, his heterochromia iridum eyes dark. “Yet you wanted it.”

Paradox’s cheeks burst into flames of shame and he huffed an indignant scoff. “Your pheromones,” he tried to counter. “It felt like I was drunk.”

“You confuse me, kid—Paradox. Dammit, must I call you by your name?” Cyrus grumbled.

“The more you call me ‘kid’, the more uncomfortable I get. Sure, I am still a ‘kid’ but that doesn’t mean you call me one. I’m almost an adult—legal adult.” Paradox pointed out.

“Well, we’ll see,” Cyrus muttered, almost so quiet that Paradox thought he misheard him. He wanted to question the Lycan, but didn’t. It was pointless to argue with someone older than him, someone who was a different—what, species??—creature than him. Despite not wanting to counter the Lycan, Paradox couldn’t help but feel offended: what did Cyrus mean by “we’ll see”? Did Cyrus see him as childish or incapable? Did Paradox not “look” adult enough or “act” adult enough?

“We’re here,” Cyrus said, jolting Paradox out of his thoughts.

They were pulling up to a towering, golden arch, the board above reading Уикхэм. Paradox was beginning to wonder if all of Byd Cyntaf’s entrances required some sort of arch or gate because Lumen Lunae had the arch while Dodencel had a gate before allowing anyone to enter the strip club.

It was strange, however, since the arch was off-road: it was on a gravel path to the left side of the road, but as cars zipped by, no one seemed to notice the golden arch. Or maybe they didn’t care? As they neared the arch, Paradox realized, much like Lumen Lunae’s entrance, looking into the arch, all he could see was the gravel road that eventually opened up to a field. He still didn’t understand how the arches/gates/entrances of Byd Cyntaf worked. It didn’t make any sense. At least, logically speaking.

They went in the arch and Paradox was hit with nausea from the sudden shift from light to dark, no rain to pouring rain.

“Why—” Paradox started, but Cyrus was ahead of him:

“Unlike Dodencel and Lumen Lunae that follow the Human World, everywhere else in Byd Cyntaf is the opposite. So yes, it’s night for us and it’s raining. Though, the weather usually is random.” Cyrus drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “We’ll be at my place in ten minutes, okay? It’s not that far. Hold on.”

#####

When they pulled up to Cyrus’s house—more like mansion—Paradox couldn’t help but notice that there was another car (specifically a Lamborghini Sián) on the driveway. He spared a glance at Cyrus and noticed that the Lycanthrope looked far from pleased. In fact, this was the first time that Paradox saw him look almost angry. Almost.

Cyrus parked his car beside the Sián and muttered, “Stay close behind me, kid.” His voice was guarded.

Paradox made sure he was close behind Cyrus when Cyrus entered his house. He was stiff as he glanced around the house before he said, “I’m home,” in a loud voice. Cyrus was greeted by three young boys rushing to him, clinging onto his legs. Cyrus looked caught between fury, frustration, and exasperated happiness.

“Uncle Cy’us, Uncle Cy’us!” the young boys were saying. They were tugging on Cyrus’s pants.

Cyrus gave them a smile but it was hollow. “Boys. My, what a surprise? I thought your father said he wouldn’t come until the next full moon?”

“He did say that,” said a voice from upstairs. Paradox looked up and saw a dark orange-eyed Lycan male leaning against the railing. However, unlike Cyrus who was tall, broad-shouldered, and threatening, this male was petite, slim, and almost feminine-like. Paradox wondered if the male Lycan was an Alpha…or an Omega. But he didn’t say anything, instead, he continued to stare at the Lycan behind Cyrus.

The Lycan had a thin smile as he moved his white blond hair out of his eyes. “That wolf never listens to a word I say. I mean, what do I have against him?” The Lycan was now making his way down the stairs. “He’s my Alpha.” He gave a half shrug.

“Where is he?” Cyrus asked.

“Out back. Chasin’ bunnies.” The dark orange-eyed Lycan mused. He turned his gaze to Paradox. “You’re new. Who might you be?”

Paradox didn’t know if he should respond to the Lycan.

“He’s Paradox,” Cyrus instead said for him. “He’s mine.”

The dark orange-eyed male looked surprised; he gave a short nod. “A human, hm? Clearly you don’t want to carry out the legacy, now do you?”

“I told you before, Chaos—” Cyrus started, but stopped short, muscles coiling.

“Ooh, Big Daddy’s in the house,” the male—Chaos?—said, grinning widely. “Boys, leave your uncle alone. Come beside me. All in a line.” Chaos lined him the boys—were they his sons?—and he stood beside Cyrus. He said, “You better greet him,” in a warning tone, to which Cyrus snapped, “This is my house—”

“Just do it,” Chaos said. “You’ll spare my ass.” A beat. “Literally.”

Cyrus tried protesting but then a tall, well-built male Lycan came into view and Cyrus deflated.

“Samael,” Cyrus said stiffly.

Samael wasn’t looking at anyone, or rather, any Lycan. His gaze was fixated on Paradox. Paradox felt his heart quicken from fear and he found himself staring at the floor. His breath caught in his throat when the older male Lycan came to him (Cyrus had a soft growl in his throat). Samael lifted Paradox’s chin up, forcing him to look at him, and when he spoke, his voice was a low growl: “A human, Cy? You must be joking.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Cyrus said, grabbing Paradox and pulling him against his chest.

Samael snorted out a laugh. “If you say so, little brother. Well, it’s just a Mark. As permanent as it is, it’s not a Bind. You can Mark another; it’s not unheard of. Find an Omega, Cy, or at least a female human.”

“Why are you here?” Cyrus asked.

Samael shrugged. “Felt like stopping by. Can’t I see my younger brother? Plus, don’t you want to see your nephews?” He gestured to the three boys.

“We made a deal, Samael. I’m okay with seeing the boys and Chaos. You, on the other hand…” Cyrus said.

Samael once more shrugged. “I’m the eldest. I do what I please. Well, I saw you. That’s it. I’m going. Doll, fetch my phone on the counter and the boys’ bags on the chair.” Samael said, looking at Chaos. When Chaos said, “Yes, sir,” Samael left.

“I don’t know why you’re with him,” Cyrus muttered.

“He’s a sweetheart. He just…can’t express it correctly.” Chaos said, shrugging. He then said, “Well, catch you later, Cy,” and he went to grab Samael’s phone and his sons’ bags before ushering the boys outside.

Paradox had zero clue what he had stepped into but he was now afraid he was in the middle of a tense family atmosphere. How fun. He was slowly beginning to regret going to Dodencel that night—no, Lumen Lunae that day. If he hadn’t stepped foot in Lycan territory, he wouldn’t have engaged with any lycanthropy.

Clearly, the universe wanted to torture him.

After all, curiosity killed the cat.