Page 39 of His Lost Lycan Luna

"Why did you have to say that? Ruin my fantasy... Charlene," the gardener said. Abbie and I glanced at one another. That was the first time we heard someone use her first name. The gardener stomped off to his gardening.

"Such a shame that the chances they live are so slim... Such a waste," the butcher exclaimed.

The butcher gave her the bill, and Mrs. Daley opened her purse to pay.

"Maybe one day we could find another arrangement?" asked the butcher. Mrs. Daley looked at him strangely.

"We can discuss it another time, Doyle. When Katrina is not around. You know she is fond of the mutts."

The Butcher, too, was just as sick, if not worse, because he eventually acted on his sick amusements.

Back then, we didn't know what he meant when we heard the term. We were only twelve, and it wasn't until we grew older that we learned what they truly meant by those words and the intentions behind them – it meant becoming his sex slave, to be dominated by some sicko. Abbie swore she would kill herself if he or the butcher bought her and I vowed the same.

"I know you're scared, but please don't fear me. I don't want you to be scared of me," the King says, tearing me from the invading memory. I blink and turn my attention to the King.

"And just for the record, Lycans don't eat people," he says with a soft laugh.

Was this the same man as before? I briefly entertain the idea that he had a lobotomy while I was passed out. He seems so carefree now, just an ordinary person with how he speaks so casually. I could almost lose sight of the fact that he was a King.

"Where did you just go?" he asks, leaning down and sniffing at me. I freeze as he leans over me, pressing his nose into my neck. He pulls away, giving me a strange look. "Surely, I didn't make your fear this potent?" he asks.

"Nowhere, my King," I answer, not wanting to anger him.

"Not physically, Ivy. Your mind, where did it take you? You seem confused," he states, and I nod, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth. Yet he still holds my hand.

"You are the only person, other than Gannon and Damian, that has gotten near me in that state and not been hurt or killed. In my Lycan form, I recognized you even after I lost control," he says, and my brows pinch. Was that supposed to make me feel better about the situation–that he didn't kill me?

"You speak very little. You’re so quiet all the time," he states, looking at me inquisitively. What am I supposed to say?I'm a filthy rogue that you ordered to lie in your bed with you for some reason, and you are rubbing my hand encased in your huge one like I am some pet you are trying to decide whether to put out of its misery?

He tilts his head to the side, watching me for a second as he holds my gaze. I can't pull mine away. He shakes his head in amusement, releasing the hold he has over me. The King then yawns, covering his mouth and rolling onto his back. Yet he doesn't let go of my hand, still clasping it in his.

I want to tug it away from him, but I also like the feel of his big hand covering mine – the tingles make my body relax, and I yawn, too, wondering what time it is.

The King eventually falls asleep, soft snores filling the room, and I think I lie there frozen for about an hour before I gain the courage to reclaim my hand and carefully sit up.

With slow movements, I try to move toward the edge of the bed. I'm careful not to move the bed too much.

I stand up and take a step, and the floorboard creaks under my foot. I freeze. My heartbeat thumps in my ears frantically. I glance over at him before taking another when he speaks.

"I will give you three seconds to get back in the bed with me, or you may find yourself tied to it and unable ever to leave it, Ivy. The choice is yours," King Kyson states with a mischievous smile on his face. I gulp, my heart pounding in my chest at his words while I consider my options.

ChapterTwenty-Five

IVY

I peek over at him. He hasn’t moved, and his eyes remain closed, which makes me wonder if I imagined his words. I am exhausted after all. I take another step toward the door, wondering if he’s sleep-talking.

“I do not advise you to move another step, Ivy,” he says, and my entire body turns rigid. So he is definitely awake, then. I don't move, and I wait for him to continue speaking, but he doesn't. I feel a chill down my spine. I swallow hard, my heart racing as I turn to face him.

"Can I… just go back…?" I try to ask, but he cuts me off.

"One," he purrs. Frantically, I turn to look at the door. It's just there. A few meters away...

"But…" and I suck in a deep breath glancing at him.

"Two," he says, opening one eye to peep at me. He smirks before closing his eyes again and yawning.

"My King, I don't think…"

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