Page 10 of His Lost Lycan Luna

Reaching my hand out, I grip the dark-haired girl's chin, lifting her gaze back to me, but now her eyes almost seem vacant.

"Are you not allowed to touch me?” I ask her. Her brows pinch together at my question.

“No, you are a King. I am a rogue,” she explains, and her answer irritates me for reasons I can't explain. I have never liked being touched, yet her touching me didn't phase me. The way she snatched her friend's hand to prevent her from touching me amused me.

"Because I am a King, and you're a rogue?"

She nods once.

But I want her touch, crave it for reasons unknown to me. I grip her free hand, turning it over and making her gasp.

Her palms feel calloused and blistered, and some parts are even rougher as a result of strenuous labor. I have seen miners with smoother hands. I grab her other hand, turning it over to find it appears the same.

Such tiny hands, showing how hard she worked, the skin chapped and peeling in places. Using my other hand, I pop the first three buttons on my shirt. Placing her hand on my chest, my skin tingles unexpectedly. I feel my chest vibrate, a purr escaping me that I quickly muffle before she realizes she has some bizarre effect on me. She gasps, trying to pull her hand away, but I hold it, refusing to let her go.

"And what if I want your touch?" I ask her.

"Then I guess I would have to touch you, my King," she answers, her voice emotionless, toneless. My eyes flit to the other girl whose eyes have turned glassy as she stares vacantly when I notice her hand twitch at her side, glancing down at their hands, the girl's locked pinkie fingers. A possessive growl tries to escape me, and I muffle it quickly.

Damian, having heard it, clears his throat. I do not know what came over me.

I look at him, and his eyes flicker when he mindlinks me.'Are you sure there isn’t something going on with you and the rogue girl?'he asks, a smile playing on his lips.

I still can’t explain it, but I feel possessive about her. It even irks me that he’s calling her a rogue girl. I growl at him, and she jerks her hand away, stepping back closer to her friend. She suddenly hisses, her back arching as she bumps into the other girl.

“Are you hurt?” I ask her, grabbing her arm to steady her.

“No, sir,” she says. She is lying and is clearly in pain, but won't admit it.

I can smell a lie and want to punish her for it. I hate liars, and the fact that she tried to lie to me is downright disrespectful. She should know better than to lie to her King. For now, I will let it slide. However, she will learn not to lie to me soon enough.

I pull her toward the limo, and Gannon steps aside with a groan and moves to our car. I hate the limo. It feels so formal, but I can find out more about these two girls there when I can face them. I open the back door and push them inside the vehicle. They quickly slide across the seats, and Damian and I both slide across from them. He taps on the glass, and the driver starts the car.

“What is your name?” I ask my raven-haired beauty. She chews her plump lips, and I gaze on them while she fidgets with her hands.

“Rogue, sir,” they both say in unison.

“No, your names?” I demand. They both look at each other confused.

“You know, the names given to you when you are born,” Damian clarifies.

“You want our real names?” the other girl asks, and it is clear she doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“Yes. I assume you both have names other than 'rogue'?” I reply.

“Her name is Abbie. Mine is Ivy,” Ivy says quietly before looking back at her hands. I can hear both their heart rates speed up and smell their fear perfuming the car. Damian reaches into the ice bucket, retrieving some water bottles.

He offers them one, but neither moves. Their constant fear is really beginning to irk me. We had done nothing to earn their fear.

“Take it,” Damian tells them, and the oldest one, Abbie, reaches forward to take it from him.

He offers one to Ivy, and she shakes her head. “We can share,” they both say as if it would be an awful thing to accept the second one.

Growling as I watch them, they both flinch away from me. With the scent of their intense fear, I realize I need to get away from them. I wanted to speak to them, but their fear of me ticks me off, and her scent is overwhelming me, driving my senses wild.

Urges I've never felt have my blood pumping fiercely, making me feel hot and somewhat flustered while her scent is driving me mad. My pants are even becoming tighter! Never in my life have I had the urge to mate someone as intensely as I want to mark and mate Ivy.

“Pull over,” I call out, and the driver does. I hop out, slamming the door. Damian does the same, though he shuts his door gently. I walk back to the car, climb in, and Gannon sighs, getting out like he's bored and sick of playing musical chairs.

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