Page 32 of His Lost Lycan Luna

"Sorry, I don't enjoy ordering you, but I knew you wouldn't drink it. You may feel woozy, but you won't hurt as badly."

Well, I definitely woozy alright. But I also feel warm and, after a few minutes, very heavy.

"Eat," he says, placing the tray between us. The tray is filled with small sandwiches cut into triangles and carrots, sticks, and dips. It also contains an assortment of cheeses and different crackers.

I stare at him confused. Despite being unfamiliar with a few things, it smells delicious. But a servant should not eat with a King. I shouldn’t even be here.

“Ivy, eat. Or I will hand feed you,” he warns. Still, I don’t move. This is wrong. I shouldn’t be here. That thought has me glancing at the door.

When I feel something press to my lips, making me pull away and look at the King.

“Do I need to feed you, Ivy?” I shake my head.

“No, My King,” I answer, yet he insists, pressing the piece of cantaloupe against my lips. He isn't seriously still going to try? I briefly consider biting his fingertips for embarrassing me–instead, I open my mouth.

He pops the piece of cantaloupe into my mouth, and I chew it, the flavor coating my tongue. I have seen cantaloupe, though I've never tried it before. It tastes bitter but sweet, just the right combination.

Kyson rubs his thumb over my juice-covered lips, and I gape at him when he sucks the juice off his thumb.

Yet, before he can do it again, I pick up a cracker and nibble on it, not wanting to be hand fed. Gosh, how awkward! Although, he seems to enjoy watching me eat, pointing to different things, and telling me to try them. He only hand-feeds me fruit twice after that, both times just as awkward as the first. Yet he doesn't seem to notice the tension in me when he does. Almost as if he doesn't find it odd that he's feeding me.

I shake my head when he offers me a cantaloupe piece. He raises an eyebrow at me, pressing the fruit against my lips. Giving in to him, I open my mouth for him.

He smirks. “Good girl.” I slowly chew and savor the taste, letting the sweet juices flood my mouth. He watches me, a satisfied smirk on his face.

ChapterTwenty-One

IVY

The day seems to drag on. There were a few times when I tried to sneak out of the room to do my chores, but every time I tried to do so, King Kyson would call me back into the room before pointing to his bed. "Rest," he would say before turning back to his work.

Eventually, I gave up trying. So I am relieved when he is finally called out of the room, which gives me a chance to breathe a little easier. He has been forcing me to eat, sit and watch him work all day.

I stick my head out the door to ensure he is gone. Then, I hurry down the corridor. He didn't say I couldn't leave the room before he left, and I know I am falling behind on my chores.

Retrieving my cleaning supplies from the downstairs cupboard, I quickly head back to the room, where I change the linens and clean the bathroom.

Each movement makes me cringe. However, I am glad to be doing something other than watching the King, who spends most of the day watching me over his laptop while he was supposed to be working. It made for some awkward stare-offs; the man could stare without blinking while I nervously stared around the room to avoid his gaze, which only seemed to amuse him.

Why does he insist on waiting around with his servant? He had hardly left the room all day. When I am done scrubbing the bathroom, I take my cleaning supplies back to the cupboard downstairs before making a quick dash to the servant's bathroom. I desperately need to pee. I have been holding my bladder all day.

Relieving myself quickly, I step out of the bathroom only to walk into the guard from upstairs.

"Sorry," I whisper, wondering why he is standing in front of the ladies bathroom. He says nothing, just remains in place, and stares at the door. The man is always silent! I make my way back to the cleaning cupboard only to notice him following me like an extra shadow. Is he ensuring I do my chores correctly?

I grab my dusting cloth and polish before heading back upstairs. My legs ache from working after spending most of the day sitting stiffly on the edge of the king's bed. Thankfully, the guard does not follow me into the room; instead, he waits by the door again.

I look at all the books on the King's enormous bookcase and gulp. My eyes scan over them, wondering if any are out of place. I also try to remember which book belongs where just in case I have to dust the books. What if I got them in the wrong order? The spines are all decorative and in impeccable order, not like the picture books in the orphanage that were falling apart and the pages were torn.

Maybe I shouldn't dust the shelf…

I can hardly read anything except my name, which my mother taught me before she died. Abbie is the same. We both struggle to read a simple sentence. There isn’t much need to read when you are a rogue. Books are heavy and not easy to carry around.

I touch one, liking the fancy writing down the spine, when I hear his voice behind me, making me jump away from the shelf.

"You can read them," he says, leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom. He stares at me. How long has he been there before catching me?

"Sorry, My King," I tell him, dropping my gaze to the floor. Why did I touch it? I shouldn't have snooped. He walks over to his chair and sits on it while I try to avoid his gaze.

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